The Phoenix War (52 page)

“Yes, Your Majesty, relaying message.”

“And if the enemy does come pouring out of
those gravity wells, what then?” asked Adiger.

Kalila’s eyes flicked to the 3d display which
showed a huge cluster of starships soaring toward their targets. A
wedge of troop transports, escorted by the many warships of
Hammerfist Squadron, split off from the rest, heading directly for
the Apollo Yards, while the majority of the fleet moved to a more
central position, ready to intercept any threat to Hammerfist.

“We continue our mission,” said Kalila, her
tone as firm as metal. She knew exactly what was at stake. “If the
enemy still controls the Apollo Yards when tomorrow comes, then all
hope is lost.”

“That appears to be all of them,” said
Commander Junius. He stood near the ops control station examining
the various displays.

“How many are there?” asked Virgil Prime,
genuinely curious.

“Looks like several hundred,” said Commander
Junius. “Comparable to our strength.”

“My readings concur with the Commander,” said
the ops chief. “Scans have successfully identified six-hundred and
fifty-eight warships and three-hundred and thirteen support
ships—including fifty-six troop transports.”

“What is their formation?” asked Virgil
Prime.

“They are deployed into two main groups. The
main force is in a defensive cluster, moving to a central location
in the system, and the smaller force—about a hundred ships—is
moving quickly toward the Apollo Yards. All of the troop transports
are with the smaller group, I think they mean to disable and
capture the Yards.”

“So it would seem,” said Virgil Prime. “Has
there been any indication that they know we are here?”

“Not yet. The enemy fleet has begun acquiring
targets but they seem completely focused on the Yards and the local
patrol ships. No sign that we’ve been detected.”

“Sir,” interrupted the comms chief. “Incoming
message from Commodore Farooq, she is requesting orders.”

“Tell her to deploy her defenses as she
normally would,” said Virgil Prime. “Remind her that, for the time
being, we aren’t here.”

“Aye, sir,” said the comms chief. He relayed
the message.

“Admiral,” said Commander Junius as he
returned to the XO’s chair. “I suggest we move against them before
they’re five-hundred thousand mc’s from the Yards. And then we need
to focus on hitting the smaller group first, especially those troop
transports. We can’t risk losing the Yards.”

“Patience, Commander,” said Virgil Prime.
“Not yet. Not until the opportune moment.” He knew that the One
True God wanted this battle to be as devastatingly chaotic as
possible. Which meant he wouldn’t engage the enemy fleet until it
was virtually impossible for the queen and her ships to withdraw.
Not just in spite of the additional casualties his force would take
but because of them.

“Yes, sir,” said Commander Junius. He looked
eager to unleash the fleet and strike against the renegade queen.
His conviction surprised Virgil Prime, considering that they’d
taken a side only recently. Virgil Prime had waited until he knew
what the One True God wanted, he then reasoned which side he must
join in order to ensure that end and then sworn himself and his
fleet to the Steward of the Empire and the Assembly. Not that oaths
to humans had any particular meaning…

Since then Virgil Prime—who everyone wrongly
believed was Fleet Admiral Virgil Tiberon—had been given overall
command of the Steward’s entire fleet. Seven-hundred warships and
three-hundred support ships. A powerful force that would serve the
One True God well.

“Have all divisions standing by,” said Virgil
Prime. “We will move against Queen Kalila soon, but not yet.”

“Aye sir.”

“Damn, it sure is lucky we were here,” said
Commander Junius.

“Indeed,” said Virgil Prime, knowing it
hadn’t been luck at all but rather the majestic machinations of the
One True God’s plan being fulfilled.

Of course Junius didn’t know that. Nor did
any of the humans. They were mere puppets on the stage, ignorant of
the strings that moved them about.
We are all puppets
,
thought Virgil Prime.
And we are all lucky to be puppets
.
Even those that fancied themselves puppet masters were puppets.
When the Steward of the Empire and his Minister of Strategy had
ordered Virgil Prime to gather the fleet and prepare to attack the
Queen’s core worlds, neither of them had any idea that the One True
God would deliver the queen and her forces into their hands.
Indeed, even Virgil Prime had been ignorant when he’d commanded the
forces to gather at the Apollo Yards. At the time, he’d thought
he’d given that order because it was the most logical place to
gather and prepare to strike. But now he saw plainly that it hadn’t
been his will at all, nor his idea, it had been the will of the One
True God. Whose majestic ways were far more beautiful, and more
perfectly designed, than any mortal could fathom. Including Virgil
Prime.

And so it had seemed like a stroke of good
fortune to all the others, admirals and captains alike, when their
outposts sighted the queen’s inbound fleet. And they’d proven more
than eager to follow Virgil Prime’s command to hide their fleets in
the gravity wells and prepare for ambush. They thought it was
wonderfully good luck, but Virgil Prime had known better. There was
no such thing as luck. Just as there was no such thing as
coincidence. It was all design. They were each mere paint strokes
on canvas—entirely unaware of the content of the picture and yet
part of it notwithstanding.

They watched the queen’s ships sailing
unopposed on the display, moving ever closer to the Apollo
Yards.

“Shall I give the order to attack?” asked
Commander Junius.

“Not just yet,” said Virgil Prime, tapping
his hands together. Thinking to himself,
we don’t attack until
the time is right
.

***

“Now clearing a distance of eight-hundred
thousand mc’s from the Apollo Yards,” said Mister Ivanov, the
Harbinger’s ops chief.

“Stay on course, nice and steady,” said
Raidan.

“Aye, sir.”

“And tell the transports to disperse some
more, they’re too bunched up. Once we start taking flak from those
outposts they won’t want to be so close together.”

“Aye, aye, relaying order,” said the comms
officer.

The Harbinger had been named the command ship
of Hammerfist Squadron, and Raidan the battlegroup’s commander. He
knew the stakes and understood the value of removing the Apollo
Yards from enemy control, and he intended to do exactly that. But,
as they cleared the distance to the outposts and platforms with
virtually no resistance from the enemy, something was deeply
wrong.

This is too easy
. He turned to his XO.
“What do you make of this, Mister Mason?”

“Hard to say. So far everything’s going as
planned, I don’t anticipate much trouble.”

“I do,” said Raidan grimly. “Watson, keep her
flying as steady as she goes. Ivanov, keep our scanners pointed at
those stars. If even a floating bolt emerges from those gravity
wells I want to know
immediately
.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Now clearing a distance of five-hundred
thousand mc’s,” said Ivanov. “Still no sign of activity around the
gravity wells.”

“Sir, weapons range of the forward outposts
in fifteen seconds,” said Lieutenant Frederickson.

“We need to disable those outposts before we
can board the platforms,” said Raidan. “All batteries standby to
achieve missile lock.”

“Aye sir,” she said and her deputy chief sent
the order below. “Bridge to all gunnery crews, we are
go
for
missile lock.” The Harbinger’s weapons could be manually fired in
the event of a systems malfunction. Convinced that things weren’t
quite as tranquil as they appeared, Raidan wanted to make sure his
people were ready for anything.

“Tell the Aurora to move to our starboard
flank and the Liberty Sun to position itself behind the transports
to cover them,” said Raidan, he studied the display of his
starships, all one-hundred and three vessels of Hammerfist Squadron
were in formation, ready to attack.

The only ship that was missing was the Arcane
Storm. Part of him wished Tristan was here to help in the battle.
He was three times more able than Raidan’s next best subordinate
and ten times more loyal, but Raidan knew the lycan’s current
mission was far too important. If anything, Raidan should have sent
more of his ships to help Tristan.

“Weapons lock achieved,” said Lieutenant
Frederickson.

“General order to all ships, commence
fire.”

***

“
Admiral
, the forward group is
unleashing hundreds of missiles against the outermost stations.
Five of the outposts are under heavy fire, two of them report
failing shields. No, check that—they’ve both been destroyed.
Outpost six’s shields are failing. They’re requesting
assistance.”

“We need to act
now
,” insisted
Commander Junius.

Virgil Prime nodded. The time had come. The
pot was sufficiently heated and the ingredients were all in place.
Now they would feast on the whisper of a hint of the One True God’s
glory. “General quarters, clear for action,” snapped Virgil
Prime.

“Aye, sir.”

“Raising shields, sounding general
quarters.”

“Reynolds, send the following order to the
entire fleet,” said Virgil Prime. “Begin the attack. Focus fire on
the pre-selected targets.”

“Aye, sir, broadcasting message.”

“Torres, take us away from the star. Lee, you
may fire when ready.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

“Accelerating, attack range in twenty
seconds.”

“All weapons are charged and loaded.”

Virgil Prime smiled.
The One True God
demands chaos and He shall have it!

***

As Alex and the Rotham patrol traded
staccato-like sounds and hisses back and forth over short-range,
Calvin felt a profound sense of doom. He couldn’t tell what was
being said by either party, he couldn’t even make out where one
word ended and another began, but he could understand what the
projected display was showing. An entire patrol of Rotham warships
had intercepted their tiny cargo vessel and now had it completely
surrounded.

As the exchange continued Alex began to look
increasingly stressed and flustered. He kept the Wanderer’s course
even and true as much as he could, trying to be faithful to
Calvin’s orders and get them to the far side of the system where
they could jump away, but apparently the Rotham patrol would have
none of it. They said something to Alex, Calvin had no idea what
but it sounded harsh, and in response Alex fired braking thrusters
and brought their ship to a complete stop.

Calvin heard his heartbeat in his ears.

“What’s happening?” whispered Calvin very
quietly to Rafael. “What are they saying?”

“Alex gave them our ship’s credentials and
told them he was a lone trader,” Rafael whispered back, so quietly
that Calvin wouldn’t have known what he said if he hadn’t been able
to see Rafael’s lips. “He said he was on his way back to the
Republic. They asked about his cargo and then ordered him to stop
the ship.”

“Are they going to board us?” Calvin
whispered, feeling a rush of alarm.

Rafael shrugged.

If they board us, we’re all dead
,
thought Calvin. Knowing there was no adequate place for any of them
to hide.
If they see anyone but Alex then our cover is
blown
. He imagined how surprised and intrigued they’d be by the
presence of humans and a Polarian, and how eager they’d be to
extract whatever information they could through any means,
reputably the more brutal the better. Calvin remembered when he and
his crew had been prisoners taken captive aboard a Thorpian
warship, not unlike the ships surrounding him now, and how the
Rotham had dragged away Major Jenkins to torture him and he was
never seen again. They’d meant to take Calvin but somehow the Major
convinced them to take him instead, ultimately saving Calvin’s
life. Calvin would never forget that.

After a moment of silence the Rotham voice
crackled over the radio again. Alex replied. Followed by more
silence.

“What is it?” Calvin whispered.

“They asked him if he’s visiting the Ancient
Apparition,” replied Rafael, his voice barely audible. “Alex told
them he doesn’t understand the message.”

“What’s the Ancient Apparition?” asked
Calvin.

“No idea.”

Calvin’s eyes moved from Alex, who sat in the
pilot’s chair hunched over the controls, to stare into the eerie
lights of a fearsome starship now visible out the window, one of
many that’d surrounded them.
If they don’t believe us
,
then we’re dead,
he thought.
They’ll board us and then
it’ll be obvious that we’re not who we say we are
. Calvin
decided then and there that he wouldn’t allow himself to be taken
alive. He’d go down on his terms, fighting to the death. He thought
of Rez’nac in the other room, and how ferocious he was, and Calvin
took some comfort in the knowledge that the Polarian warrior would
be fighting at his side.
At least we won’t go down
easily
.

Of course, all of that assumed the Rotham
bothered to board them at all. They might fire a single missile
from one of their warships and end it all in a flash of dust and
shrapnel.

***

“More ships are emerging from the stars,”
reported Mister Ivanov. “That makes at least seven hundred warships
and who knows how many more are in there.”

“
Stay the course
,” Raidan ordered.
He’d hoped the enemy wasn’t hiding in those gravity wells, but he
wasn’t overly surprised to see them appear—he’d known something was
wrong. But what astonished him was how many there were. A seemingly
endless swarm of battleships, destroyers, and dreadnoughts, each
launching countless fighters, as they bee-lined straight for
Hammerfist Squadron.