The Phoenix Rising (39 page)

“
Yes. Yes, it’s all here,”
said Tristan.

“
Good,” said Calvin. “Now
let’s hope they left us a working planetary craft.”

“
Move out,” said Pellew. He
led the group out of the forward control center towards the
shuttlebay. Rifle aimed high and ready.

“
This place gives me the
creeps,” said Miles as they went. “It’s like a space station run by
ghosts.”

Tristan chuckled darkly. “This is nothing.
Wait ‘til you see what’s coming.”

“
Calvin
... how did you talk me into this again?”

“
Look at you,” said Calvin.
“You’re big and you have a gun.” He noted that Miles seemed to be
holding the rifle awkwardly, probably from inexperience. “No one
will mess with you.”

“
True. But that’s still not
very reassuring...”

They reached the shuttlebay. It was a wide
open area with seven planetary craft resting idly on the deck.
Pellew and the Polarians began sweeping the room. Because of its
size, however, and the tactical vulnerabilities of wide open
spaces, Calvin knew it would take them a significantly long time to
properly comb the room. So he just decided to step out into the
open. Convinced by now that Samil’s information was correct and no
one was aboard the station.

“
Calvin, what are you
doing?” asked Pellew.

“
Testing the
water.”

“
I can’t cover you if you’re
out in the open like that.”

“
It’s alright, I don’t think
anyone is here,” he said. He approached the nearest planetary
craft, a small compact shuttle. At first glance it looked alright
but when he walked to the side of it he saw a small puncture had
breached the hull. That craft wasn’t going anywhere. On to the next
one.

One by one he inspected the different
planetary vessels and found that five of them could not be trusted
to fly. Whether it was because of torn heat-shielding, hull
breaches, missing stabilizers, or other reasons, these craft had
clearly been grounded for good cause. On the far end of the deck
though, near the massive metal door that opened into space, were
two gunships. Both had seen their fair amount of wear. The metal
was scratched, paint flaked off, and so on. But both, after a
detailed inspection, seemed flight capable.

“
Either of these should get
us down to the planet and back,” said Calvin.

Ideally he would have liked to take both of
them, splitting his team in half. It was usually better not to
invest every egg in a single basket. If he were wrong about the
craft’s flight worthiness, at least some of their team might
survive to complete the mission. But unfortunately he was the only
trained pilot in the entire group. And, in the event their approach
was seen, two planetary craft rather than one might alert the
Enclave agents on the surface that the people coming were not the
people expected.

Pellew and the others finished sweeping the
room and gathered around Calvin in a semi-circle.

“
Which one should we take?”
asked Alex.

“
I’m leaning towards this
one,” Calvin pointed to the smaller, lighter craft. It had much
less armor and fewer guns than the other option, but was more
agile, could ascend quicker, and could perform more aggressive
maneuvers.

“
I think we should take the
other one,” said Pellew. “If things get dicey down there and we get
into a firefight, there’s no substitute for a bit more armor and a
lot more guns. But it’s your call, of course.”

Calvin realized that Pellew had a point.
Part of what attracted him to the lighter gunship was that it would
be more enjoyable to fly, but if they did come face to face with an
army of Enclave agents—or a mob of type one Remorii, the additional
weapons would pay off.

“
Alright, agreed,” said
Calvin. He patted the nose of the large gunship. “Now let’s see if
this old bird will fly.”

***

The gunship was over fifty years old but its
flight mechanics were simple and its controls intuitive. A relic
leftover from a humbler era of piloting. Calvin fell in love with
it right away, despite its hiccups and wear and tear.

“
They simply don’t build
them like this anymore,” he said, clutching the yoke with bare
hands—it just felt sturdy. Fortunately the craft’s life support
systems were all functioning so he’d been able to remove his gloves
and helmet. Though, since it had no gravity system, he and everyone
else had needed to strap in.

“
This isn’t so bad,” Miles
said from behind. He was seated at the weapons console. Calvin
couldn’t see him, but imagined a very sick, very nervous look on
the big man’s large, round face.

“
Flight path laid in,” said
Tristan. He sat at co-pilot holding the tablet computer with one
handand using the other to input information into the gunship’s
computer.

Calvin made an adjustment so he could see
Tristan’s data in his head-up display. The green-lit numbers guided
him as the craft gingerly descended—slipping, almost majestically,
down toward the grey and black mass below.

“
That really is not a
hospitable looking planet,” said Calvin.

“
Why do you think we left?”
said Tristan.

The aerodynamic heating intensified as the
craft descended into denser atmosphere. But the heat shield was
holding.

Their smooth descent becamerocky with
turbulence when they reached the troposphere. The gunship was
surrounded by storm clouds and its sensors tracked extreme
precipitation and wind forces. The vessel seemed almost to buckle
under the pressure, as it lurched—violently thrown about—and Calvin
had to make several adjustments to compensate. A rush of excitement
filled him. And he remembered why he got into piloting in the first
place. The feel of planetary forces, powerful winds, real gravity,
and intense inertia were thrilling. Space-flight robbed the trade
of its truest joys.

His passengers seemed less in love with the
ride. He could hear retching behind him, and at least one
vomited.

“
Don’t worry,” said Calvin,
“things should be steadying out soon.” He remained on the
flightpath, even though it took him into some of the more severe
precipitation. The gunship was designed for much stronger forces
than those buffeting them currently—he was sure—and he didn’t want
to lose the course.

Rapidly changing temperatures and strong
wind shears tossed the gunship about furiously and all around them
a lightning storm of convective activity could be seen out the
windows. Brightening the dark clouds for moments at a time.

“
Sorry about the bumps,”
said Calvin. He didn’t know if storm conditions like this were
common on Remus Nine but, if so, this particular gunship had
clearly not been built for reentry here since it didn’t weather the
storm well.

“
We’re going to die,” said
Miles. “I just know it.”

“
We’re fine,” Calvin
insisted, making another flight adjustment.

The gunship was thrown hard when its
four-hundred kilometers per hour tailwind instantly dropped to less
than ninety. “Ohh, easy there,” Calvin said, steering the gunship
back on course. He heard another person vomit. The smell was almost
bad enough to make him put his climate helmet back on. But he
needed to keep both hands on the controls.

They dropped below the clouds and much of
the turbulence disappeared. Calvin caught his first earnest glimpse
of the planet’s surface. It was dark, almost dead in appearance,
and soaked by the pelting rain.

Debris and desolation were
everywhere. The plains and open spaces were scarred and barren and
the cities seemed like vacant, ghost metropolises. Many of the
structures and buildings still stood in good condition, but they
were darkened and lonely—almost seeming asleep. They passed over
the largest city. It was filled with thousands upon thousands of
buildings and not a soul in sight. No sign of life or activity at
all. Like millions of people had just vanished. A chill traced
Calvin’s spine and he stared down at the sight. In the far distance
a massive fire burned, lighting up the horizon.

“
What is
that fire?” he asked.

“Burning oil fields,”
replied Tristan.

The whole scene taken in
its entirety, the greyness of the surface, the distant flames, the
abandoned cities, the fierce storm... it was certainly the most
uninviting place Calvin had ever been to. And yet somehow, in its
own dark and deadly way,
beautiful
. A tiny part of him
couldn’t help but wonder if this would be his final resting place.
He shuddered at the thought.
Gotta
survive. Must find those weapons!

“
There,” said Tristan,
pointing. “You see that beacon?”

“
Yes,” said Calvin, spotting
the faint strobing white light. It was difficult to see in the
storm.

“
That’s the landing
zone.”

“
Got it,” Calvin began
prepping the craft for terminal procedures. He adjusted the flaps,
slowing their descent, and flew a circle around the landing zone.
Because of the low-visibility, he would have to perform an
instrument-guided approach. He followed the numbers exactly,
keeping an eye on the green head-up display. “We’ll touchdown in
just about a minute...” He glanced at the time. 1435. The Rotham
fleet would probably arrive within the next thirty minutes. Half
that time would be needed to escape the planet’s surface and return
to space. This was going to be close...

***

“
We have arrived at Remus
System,” the pilot said.

“
Defense status?” asked
Nimoux.

“
Shields raised, all weapons
armed.”

Nimoux sat at the command
position, staring out the window at the brushstroke of stars that
were now visible. He had been to Remus System before on a survey
mission, but had never approached the inner planets. Something
about this place felt eerie and twisted.
God knows why Calvin would come here
.
“Ops, what do we see? Is the Nighthawk out there?”

“
Scan complete. There is an
alteredspace exit signature that is very recent. It was created by
a ship that is roughly the same mass as the Nighthawk. I do not see
the Nighthawk, however. The only artificial heat source seems to be
the station orbiting Remus Nine.”

“
Did the Nighthawk leave?”
asked Nimoux.

“
I don’t see any evidence
that it left. There is no recent alteredspace entry signature. I
believe the ship is still here, we just can’t see it for some
reason.”

“
No doubt it is stealthed,”
said Nimoux. “Ops, begin a deep scan using the advanced sensor.
Sweep every cubic inch of the system, starting with the space
around the ninth planet. Let’s find that ship.”

“
Sir, starships arriving,”
said the ops officer. “Looks to be the ISS Phoenix, ISS Stormfront,
IWS Rhea, ISS Trogon, ISS Titan, and ISS Spirit. The rest of the
taskforce is here.”

“
Begin approach and order
the squadron into containment position around the ninth
planet—remind them to stay clear of the mines.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
I’ve spotted them,” said
the ops officer. “They are holding position just outside the mine
field. Sending coordinates to the helm.”

“
Excellent. Transmit
coordinates to all ships and order them into standard containment
pattern.”

“
Yes, sir.
Transmitting.”

“
And broadcast the following
message throughout the system on every frequency,” said Nimoux.
“Lt. Commander Cross, you are hereby ordered to disengage your
weapons and prepare to be boarded. You are under military arrest.
Resist and be fired upon.”

***

Seeing the ships on the 3d display, knowing
they were here—authorized by the government—to apprehend the
Nighthawk, Summers felt extremely uncomfortable in the shoes of the
fugitive. Everything in her core, all of her training, her
upbringing, everything she was, sympathized with the Imperial ships
pursuing them. She knew why they did what they did. And her heart
was with them.

But she also knew that these ships were
merely pawns being manipulated—like she’d once been. Unknowingly
throwing their allegiance and trust behind a large, corrupt,
corrosive influence that had taken root inside the Fleet. An
influence that had led to the self-inflicted massacre in Abia that
annihilated the men and women of the Fifth Fleet. That corrosive
element had to be found and removed. No matter the cost. Which
meant that justice would have to wait. Once the Fleet was restored
to its proper self, Summers had every intention of turning herself
in, and facing the consequences of her insubordination, but not
before.

“
I don’t know how,” said
Cassidy, seated at the ops position, “but they see us somehow. The
whole squadron is closing on our position.”

“
Weapons range?” asked
Summers.

“
Not yet.”

“
Is it possible that they
are approaching the planet and it only seems like they are
approaching us?”

“
Negative. They are bearing
down on our exact position,” said Cassidy.