The Phoenix War (8 page)

Each candidate standing was counted as a vote
for himself automatically, and thus the Conroys, Dorans, Savets,
Martels, and Zhangs were effectively removed from voting.

Cole House voted first. Then Florence. Then
Hernandez, and so on. As the votes were tallied, and each House
declared their support for their closest political allies—as
Caerwyn knew they would—the votes seemed to fall exactly as he’d
predicted. The only surprise came when the Garcia House—supporters
of the Akiras—declared for Zhang rather than the Savets. This had
no effect on the projected outcome; Lord Savet would come up short
on votes with or without the Garcias, and this was the first—and
certainly the
only—
vote Lord Zhang would get. Caerwyn only
hoped this show of support by the Garcias, empty and pointless as
it was, didn’t go to Zhang’s head and encourage him to stay in the
race.
The vote will end in a deadlock. And then you, with the
fewest votes, must gracefully bow out. That’s how this works
.
Caerwyn knew he couldn’t say as much aloud, but that didn’t stop
him from wishing he could communicate telepathically.

The Torres voted last and, to no one’s
surprise, declared their support for Lord Savet. Long before they
did, however, the outcome became obvious to everyone. It was a
close run between Caerwyn Martel and Lord Doran, with the Savets
trailing significantly behind, then the Conroys just after him, and
Lord Zhang far at the bottom. But no candidate had won a sufficient
majority to claim victory. Though if one more vote had gone his
way, Caerwyn Martel would have.

Damn you Leor Zhang. Damn you. Damn you.
Damn you!
Of all the people standing on the Assembly Floor when
the assassin murdered the king, his second bullet just
had
to find Ri Zhang… if only it’d found someone else, almost anyone
else…
I’d cede an Imperial planet if it meant I still had Ri
Zhang alive to cast his vote in my favor!

With the vote finished and no clear victor
decided, the Assembly adjourned. There would be more debate and
more discussion, Caerwyn knew. Hopefully enough to remind Leor
Zhang of his place and convince him to respectfully bow out. And
then, in the runoff, Caerwyn would be victorious. It
had
to
be so.

Calvin lay in bed, wide-awake, staring at the
ceiling in the darkness. He’d woken before his alarm and, unable to
fall back to sleep, had decided to simply disable the alarm and
seek peace the silence.

Sleep came uneasily aboard the Black Swan,
despite the fact that Kalila had kindly given him quarters that far
more lavish and comfortable than any on the Nighthawk. He glanced
at the time display for what felt like the millionth time.

0527 S.T.

He’d have to rise soon. In just over an hour,
they’d be there. Their ship would arrive… But there was no reason
to get up just yet.

Calvin let his thoughts flow freely in the
darkness as the minutes ticked by. He thought of his mother’s
disappearance and felt a terrible, ominous feeling; it sickened him
to the core.
Where are you?
he wondered. She’d vanished
without a trace and hope of finding her seemed more fleeting than
ever.
She must have gone into hiding
, he tried to convince
himself in vain. Wishing he could believe she was safe somewhere,
lying low.

He thought about the replicants, how powerful
and influential people had somehow been replaced, people like
Captain Nimoux and Vice Admiral Harkov. Both of whom were likely
watering daffodils somewhere now…

He thought about his friends and shipmates,
off somewhere in the galaxy, hunting after the deadliest weapons
ever designed. Miles would be there, with that big dopey grin of
his. Sarah too, and as for Shen… Shen was probably dead by now.
Calvin remembered how gaunt and broken the ops officer had looked,
restrained in the infirmary where Calvin had last seen him. And
Calvin thought of the duty he’d charged Miles with—to make certain
Shen did not suffer needlessly. Calvin doubted Miles truly had the
constitution to pull the plug on Shen, but maybe he’d done so, if
he’d seen that it would end needless suffering.

What had happened to Shen had been unjust and
unwanted; he’d sacrificed himself, thrown himself into the line of
Remorii, as a means of protecting Calvin. Others had made the same
sacrifice for him, even a complete stranger named Titus Antony,
who’d been shredded by CERKO bullets while trying to save Calvin’s
life at Samil’s behest…
too much blood
, Calvin thought.
Far too much blood
.

Thoughts of Shen made him think about Monte
and Rose, and he realized how much he missed them, especially the
old doc. To think he was somewhere else now, in some sort of
oblivion, perhaps not even existing at all. In the black hallways
of death, likely with Shen now, and Christine…

Calvin felt a strange dampness in his eyes as
he imagined them all together, all of his friends and loved ones
who’d passed on. For all he knew, his own mother had joined
them.

He wiped the tears from his eyes. And found
himself wishing he could turn to his age-old lover and tormentor,
equarius. But the instinct to take the drug wasn’t as strong as it
once had been, not even as strong as it had been mere weeks
earlier. That was a victory of a sort, he supposed, but small
comfort.

“If only…” he whispered, thinking of a
thousand different ways he could finish that sentence. He searched
his soul for the will to live, the strength to keep fighting even
though he felt hopelessness strangling him on the inside. Chaos had
emerged with prejudice on crucial Imperial worlds, and now there
was no king. And the king that had been, the great sovereign leader
Calvin had expected to ultimately guide humanity through the storm,
had proven just as mortal and impermanent and unsafe as anyone
else.
He’d been murdered on the Assembly Floor, for hell’s
sake
! The Fleet was no doubt in disarray, the Knights of the
King, the admirals, the Representatives of the Assembly, local
governors, all sorts must be scrambling right now to seize as much
of the pie as they could, for all the good it would do them once
the Rotham and Polarians poured over the borders… humanity’s only
hope was in common strength, in presenting a unified front, but now
no one could force them to cooperate. To stand together. Not
anymore. And so together they would fall.

Even now the Rotham fleets are surely
forming
, he thought darkly. Readying to take whatever slivers
of humanity they wish. Starting with Renora… a planet that had
endured far more than its share of tragedy and bloodshed in recent
weeks, and yet her citizens had been seduced by Rotham aid and
deceived by Rotham promises. The planet would be the focal point of
inevitable war. They were humans, Imperial citizens. But they’d
declared for the Rotham Republic, and the Republic had embraced
them. Which meant the Republic would take them, and Calvin doubted
very much that Renora would be the only system the Rotham fleets
would occupy along the way…

The comm panel in his room beeped loudly. Its
white light flashed on and off, seeming very bright in the deep
darkness his eyes had adjusted to.

He got out of bed.
Has it been an hour
already?
A glance out the starless window told him they were
still in alteredspace. But that didn’t mean they weren’t close to
their destination.

“Calvin here,” he said, after tapping the
panel.

“Her Grace requests your presence on the
bridge immediately.” It was Black Swan’s chief of
communications.

“Understood. On my way.”

The call terminated.

He splashed some water on his face but
otherwise made no real effort to clean himself up. He even wore his
clothes from the day before, the white-and-black uniform he’d been
given when he’d taken on the role of Executor. The only difference
was he’d ripped the Insignia of the Office of the Executor off his
lapel, since the office was defunct now anyway, and he didn’t
deserve to wear the symbol. With no other insignia to take its
place, he felt like an overdressed civilian.

He went directly to the bridge. When the door
slid open, revealing the Black Swan’s massive control epicenter, he
took it all in before stepping out of the elevator.

The different departments were fielding the
many system controls that were setup throughout the bridge. About
twenty people were busily working in small groups and communicating
to the crews below decks. At the center stood Kalila, who was
speaking with Captain Adiger. The bridge lights made her dark hair
seem to shine, and even from this distance, Calvin could see that
Kalila’s strength and sense of command had returned. The sad,
seemingly apathetic Kalila who hadn’t quite known how to cope with
the news of her father’s death was gone. Either banished or hidden
under many layers of confidence, purpose, and determination.
Whether or not this in-command version of Kalila was the true
Kalila, it was certainly the version of her that Calvin knew. The
one with fire in her beautiful eyes. Seeing it made Calvin
smile.

He stepped out onto the deck and a soldier
saluted him. Calvin saluted back instinctively, thinking how
different a vast dreadnought was compared to a tiny stealth frigate
like the Nighthawk. On the Nighthawk there was no room, and no
need, for a dedicated security chief to be positioned on the bridge
at all times. Ready to coordinate a garrison of hundreds of
soldiers...

“Good, you’re here,” said Kalila once Calvin
approached.

Adiger and Calvin exchanged salutes.

“I take it we’re about to arrive then,” said
Calvin. He glanced at the array of windows and saw that the view
was still empty and black.

“We’ll be dropping out of alteredspace in a
few short minutes,” said Kalila. “Hopefully surrounded by friends.”
Her tone showed a hint of suspicion and Calvin understood why.
They’d followed the coordinates provided by Raidan. And, while it
was true that Raidan and his Organization had shared common enemies
with them, and that Raidan led the Harbinger to their defense back
at Capital World, his mysterious Organization was still extralegal
and undefined, and Kalila did not trust him. Which was probably
wise.

“I don’t believe Raidan has hostile
intentions,” said Calvin, unsure if he was trying to reassure the
princess or himself.

“Regardless,” said Kalila, “Captain Adiger,
you will raise the shields the instant we arrive and have all
defense systems standing by.”

“Yes, Princess,” he said obediently. He
relayed the necessary commands to his teams.

Calvin hoped that wasn’t interpreted by
Raidan, and whatever allies he brought, as a sign of
aggression.

As the chief of navigation counted down their
exit from alteredspace, Calvin noticed that Rafael was nowhere to
be seen.
Perhaps Kalila doesn’t trust him yet. Certainly he
would have been summoned here otherwise…

“Four. Three. Two.”

Calvin stared out the dark windows ahead,
watching with anticipation, as the alteredspace descent countdown
finished.

“
One
.”

The view filled with stars. The local sun
wasn’t visible, nor were any planets, but the appearance of
thousands of tiny white dots announced their return to normal
space.

“We have arrived,” said the navigation chief.
Defense reported the shields had been raised, as ordered and the
ops chief called attention to multiple ships in the vicinity.

“Identify those ships,” snapped Captain
Adiger, pointing at the 3d display, where the other ships could be
seen. Fixed at the center of the display was a projection of the
Black Swan itself. Only one of the other ships matched it for
size.

“The ISS Harbinger, sir,” reported the ops
chief. “Along with the de-commissioned ISS Liberty Sun, a
non-military vessel marked as the Aurora, and another non-military
vessel marked as the Penelope.”

“Sir, my scans indicate that all identified
vessels bear military-grade armaments and defensive armor,” added
the ops deputy chief.

Before Captain Adiger could respond, the
communication chief spoke up. “Captain, we are being hailed by the
ISS Harbinger.”

Captain Adiger turned back to Kalila. “Your
Grace?” he asked, obviously seeking her instructions.

Kalila gazed back at him with a face of
steel. “Inform them that the raising of our shields was for
defensive purposes only, please communicate our non-hostile
intent.”

“And shall I answer the hail?”

A thoughtful look came over her face as she
seemed to consider this for a split second. “They can wait.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

As Adiger relayed his orders, Kalila took
Calvin aside.

“Your thoughts, Lieutenant Commander?” she
asked in a quiet tone.

“I don’t think Raidan wishes us any direct
harm,” said Calvin, speaking quietly because Kalila had. “I would
absolutely listen to what he has to say, but I would proceed with
caution.”

“Do you suspect him of something?” Kalila
asked, her eyes probing him shrewdly.

Calvin thought of the suffering that was
happening on Cepheus, Rotham civilians dying by the thousands. He’d
all but convicted Raidan in his mind as the guilty perpetrator of
that slaughter; after all he had the weapon ingredients and the
means to deliver them, but Calvin had to keep in mind that he
couldn’t be completely certain—there wasn’t quite enough proof.

“Out with it,” said Kalila when Calvin seemed
hesitant.

“Princess,” said Calvin, noting, with a trace
of sadness, that Kalila’s eyes seemed to stare back at him with the
gaze of a monarch addressing one of her subjects, and not as a
woman looking pleasantly upon a man, or even the gaze of a close
friend... No trace of the intimate connection he’d thought they’d
shared. “I believe Raidan, or at the very least the Organization he
represents, is responsible for the brutal attack on Cepheus.”