The Phoenix Darkness (23 page)

“All right, I’m going to come clean with you
all,” said Pellew, easily and gently. “Now just promise me
everybody is going to stay calm.” Before they could reply, or argue
further, he continued. “I did bring the isotome weapon aboard this
ship and it is in the auxiliary lab on deck four, intact and able
to fire.”

“I cannot believe you,” said Summers, looking
like she wanted to hit him.

“Now what’d I say? I said easy,” Pellew
reminded them. “Now, what’s done is done. Before we go and do
anything rash, let’s think this through like adults.”

“Like adults?” asked Nimoux, looking a little
too smug for Pellew’s liking.

“Yes, like grown-ups. Like calm, rational,
thinking people who don’t rush into rash action,” said Pellew.
“Now, hear me out. We thought when we got to Zander we’d be able to
get rid of all the isotome weapons. If we had, we could've
destroyed them all and leveled the playing field for everyone. But
we did not. Clearly, he’d already given away the others, fourteen
of them, in case you’ve forgotten, to someone else. Now, my money
says that someone else is the Rahajiim. If not them then the
Republican navy, not that there’s much of a difference between them
at this point. Now, if you know your enemy has a gun pointed at
your head, and not just one gun but
fourteen
of them, don’t
you want to have a gun pointed back at him?”

Pellew knew he had a point. And, for the
briefest instant, he thought he just might have won them over.
After all, it was one thing when he’d argued for the Empire to be
the possessor of the only isotome weapons, Summers and Nimoux
hadn’t believed that, under such circumstances, there was a
frightening enough threat to warrant needing such destructive
weapons. The bastards had been wrong, of course, Pellew knew that
for sure. But at least, in their little worlds, getting rid of the
isotome weapons had made a kind of sense under those
conditions.

But now, now the game had changed. The threat
was real, and far more pronounced. In fact, it was almost
unspeakably dangerous. A real life, known, vicious enemy, in
possession of fourteen isotome weapons, who has every motive and
ability to use them against the Empire; it was small comfort to
have an isotome weapon of their own they could use in an effort to
deter Rotham aggression. That solitary isotome weapon might not
even be enough to intimidate the Rotham, but at least it had a
chance! Without it, they had nothing. They would be morons showing
up to a gun fight with scissors and crayons by comparison.

Unfortunately, after a shared look between
Summers and Nimoux, Pellew knew he'd lost them. They still rejected
the obvious wisdom of his argument.

“The weapon has to be destroyed,” said
Summers. “It’s the only decent thing to do.”

“Oh, come now, haven’t you listened to a
single word I’ve said?” asked Pellew.

“We have, very much so,” said Nimoux. “But
the simple fact is we have a chance to destroy a weapon that, if we
don’t, will very likely be used against an entire star system.
Maybe that star system won’t be a human system, I don’t know. But
what I do know is this, whether it’s a Polarian system, a Rotham
system, or a human system, there will be billions of innocent lives
there, lives which will be horrendously wiped out as their own star
destroys them. Slowly enough that they will see it coming, they
will know their terrible fate, but fast enough that none will be
able to escape. And when that does happen, the blood will be on our
hands, mine and yours, because we could have prevented it, here and
now, and we chose not to.”

Well, I tried my best
, thought Pellew,
feeling regret that Summers and Nimoux were too stupid to see
reason and they’d have to do this the hard way. He checked his
watch and saw that he’d stalled them nearly long enough; only a few
seconds remained.

“Very well then,” said Pellew, slowly.
Counting down the seconds in his head. “If I can’t convince you,
then I can’t convince you. You win. But you really might want to
move the ship,” he gave Sarah an enigmatic smile. “Hurry up, love;
do it. Fire all thrusters and hard to starboard, now!”

She looked confused. They all did. But in a
minute, all would be clear. Pellew glanced at his soldiers subtly,
one then the other. And then, like clockwork, a dozen alarms began
sounding on the Bridge.

“Warning Explosion! Proximity alert!”

Everybody dove for the many controls to see
what was going on. Out the window the forward section of the
Duchess
could be seen exploding, throwing debris every which
way, including toward the
Nighthawk
. A piece of it slammed
into the ship’s armor. Next, the mid-section of the
Duchess
began to go up, all following the length of charges ODB had set
leading from bow to stern.

Sarah wrestled with the controls to detach
the
Nighthawk
fast enough, as Pellew knew she would, and she
even followed his advice and fired the thrusters at maximum,
jamming the stick to yaw starboard as hard as she could. Summers
meanwhile began barking orders at Mr. Roy, ordering the shields
raised and for their weapons to target any incoming debris. He
began heating the guns and firing, just as she commanded.

With the Bridge crew distracted, busily
saving the ship, it was time to put his plan into action.

***

Nimoux had been as startled as the others
when the alarms started going, and he’d thought they were goners
when the debris had slammed into the ship. Then he realized the
Duchess
, to which they were still attached, wasn’t exploding
all at once, but rather coming apart in sequences, conveniently
designed to give them enough time to break away and escape.

This is your work
, he thought as he
looked at Pellew. And, Nimoux was quite sure, he had an inkling
regarding what was about to happen. And so while Sarah dove for the
flight controls and Summers and Mr. Roy did what they could from
the defense panel, each trying to save the ship, Nimoux knew better
than to dive for the Ops console and try to do what little good he
could from there. No, he needed to be near the rear of the Bridge,
where Pellew and his henchmen were. And so, not wanting to look
suspicious, Nimoux rushed for the flight controls too, making sure
to arrive after Sarah did, so that she would be the one to actually
pilot them out of this mess. This maneuver, however, did manage to
get him significantly closer to Pellew and his men, and did so
without raising any suspicion from them. After all, it had been
perfectly logical for the Ops officer to rush for the flight
controls, the Ops console couldn’t help in such an emergency and,
should the pilot fail to get to the yoke, at least somebody would
be there.

Nimoux kept a subtle eye on Pellew and his
men, sizing them up and examining their weapons. Nimoux himself was
unarmed, but he had the benefit of many years of combat training
and had spent significant years as successful commander within
Special Forces, long enough to have developed a sense of tactical
awareness and to know that anything can be a weapon.

Sure enough, Pellew raised a hand, giving a
signal, and his soldiers began to draw their weapons. As they did,
Nimoux leapt forward and charged one of them headlong, taking the
man at the waist and crashing him against the rear wall. His head
clapped against the metal bulkhead and he dropped to the ground,
either unconscious or dead. As the soldier slid downward, Nimoux
grabbed the man’s stunner from its sheath and turned to face his
other enemies.

By now, the ship had been moved safely away
from the exploding
Duchess
, but Pellew and his other soldier
were making quick work of the poor bridge crew. Summers stood,
hands raised, in a position of basic defense, facing off against
Pellew, who looked amused. He held a stunner in his hand, and at
his side was holstered a handgun. Crumpled on the ground was Mr.
Roy, who, it seemed, had taken one severe hit to the head with a
stunner. Nimoux doubted the man was dead, but he certainly wouldn’t
be getting up any time soon. As for Sarah, she’d been wrestled to
the ground by the other soldier, who stood on her hair and seemed
about to swing his stunner down upon her head with full force.

Nimoux threw his stunner with all his
strength and it took the other soldier squarely in the face,
breaking his nose with blunt force and stunning him with
electricity in the process. He dropped his own stunner and reeled
backwards, but somehow managed to keep his feet. Nimoux charged
him, before he could recover, and sent a swift, flat-fisted punch
into the man’s face, worsening the injury to his nose. Nimoux
punched again, this time more forcefully, and the hit had the
desired effect of ramming the man’s nasal bone up and into his
brain, killing him where he stood.

With Sarah out of danger, Nimoux turned his
attention to Summers, ready to take on Pellew himself, although not
quite sure how. He bent down and picked up one of the fallen
stunners and then stood to face his adversary. Unfortunately, by
the time he stood, Pellew had managed to draw his handgun and had
gotten the best of Summers. He held her tightly with one arm
securely around her, hand positioned to apply intense pressure as
needed should she resist. With his other hand he held the handgun
against her temple. It was clear Summers was in no position to do
anything about it.

“You’re more dangerous than I ever thought,”
said Pellew, his tone was more amused than angry, despite the loss
of two of his men, and when he spoke to Nimoux like one would
expect an old rival to speak to another, it made Nimoux
uncomfortable. “But seriously,
drop
the stunner and put your
hands on your head!”

Nimoux hesitated just for a second.

“I’m serious, I’ll kill her, right here and
right now. Then I’ll kill all the rest of you.” There was a
craziness in Pellew’s eyes. The fire of a man who didn’t idly
threaten violence. Nimoux knew what it was when he saw it; he’d
seen it before. So, with no other choice, he immediately dropped
the stunner and put his hands on his head. As he did, Summers tried
to say something, most likely something self-sacrificial and how
Nimoux should keep fighting, but Nimoux never got the chance the
find out because Pellew applied forceful pressure to her, shutting
her up with a squeal.

“That’s better,” said Pellew.

And then, to both of their surprise, Summers
tried to speak again. This time her words a bit clearer, “
Don’t
give i
—” she screamed and was silenced again. Yet Nimoux could
only think of how noble Summers was, with a gun pressed against her
own head by a violent madman who continued to injure her every time
she spoke, and yet she continued to fight him in the only way she
knew how, by trying to rally Nimoux.

Well if she can continue to fight him,
then so can I
, thought Nimoux. He knew better than to charge
Pellew, or make any kind of ostensibly aggressive move against him.
If he did, the man would likely panic and send a nine-millimeter
bullet into Summers’ beautiful head. No, Nimoux had to do something
different. Something that could still stop the isotome weapon. That
was the real objective, one they’d already agreed they would die
for, if necessary.

Nimoux waited in place, hands on his head, as
he considered his next move. As he did, Pellew moved away from the
defense post and toward the command position, dragging Summers with
him. Nimoux took advantage of that and, in a display of keeping his
distance from Pellew, walked around the flight control and over to
the Ops console, where he still stood with his hands in the air,
apparently in the act of surrender.

Pellew tapped the intercom which broadcast
throughout the ship and sent a message. As he did, Nimoux sprang to
action, hurriedly activating the Ops controls and began disabling
various safety protocols. He wasn’t able to enable the ship’s
self-destruct by himself, assuming Calvin had even left such a
system in place, but there were other ways to put a ship in danger.
By disabling the safety protocols involved with alteredspace
jumping and encouraging the computers to prefer burning the coils
at the hottest possible temperatures, it was kind of a backdoor
self-destruct which, upon jump into alteredspace, would take them
all out. But, most importantly, would destroy the isotome weapon.
It wouldn’t be as good as ridding the galaxy of all fifteen isotome
weapons, not by a long shot, but it was better that one small ship
with a reduced crew go out than the many billions of lives which
would be lost should the weapon be used for its intended
purpose.

***

“Attention all military personnel, this is
Captain Jason Pellew, commander of Special Forces. Now hear this.
Now hear this. Kilo Protocol is active. I repeat, Kilo Protocol is
active! This is not a drill!” Pellew let go of the intercom and
looked back up at Nimoux, who he expected to see standing against
the far wall with his hands held high. But instead, the fool was
seated at the Ops console, rapidly entering commands.

What on earth does he think he’s
doing?
wondered Pellew, who stood up to see just what was going
on. He couldn’t quite tell what the former Special Forces captain
was up to, but he knew he was up to no good.

“Oh, for God’s sake…” he mumbled, unable to
believe the ridiculous amount of resistance he’d received on the
Bridge, and was still apparently receiving, in the form of whatever
the hell this was…

Pellew turned the firearm away from Summers’
head briefly and then aimed it at Nimoux.

***

Almost there. Almost there Almost
there
. Nimoux could hear Pellew was done with his broadcast
but, with any luck, he’d have just a few more seconds to finish
disabling all the safety protocols. Just a few more clicks…