The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6) (37 page)

Still, the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from the ground team in over fifteen minutes was alarming to her.
They’ve probably just lost the signal inside one of those massive structures
, she reasoned. At least that was her best hope. She considered trying to hail them, but knew, should they be attempting a stealth operation, a signal from her radio to theirs could prove disastrous.

Be alive, Shen
, she thought.
Stay alive
. And, not for the first time, she found herself thinking, we have a whole flotilla of starships full of lycans, why didn’t we bring more down than just twenty-eight?

She considered going to orbit to retrieve reinforcements, but knew that she couldn’t risk being away should the ground team need an immediate evac, which could happen at any moment. And so she continued to fly her circuit, keeping a vigilant watch and listening for the damned radio to spark to life.

Hurry up!

***

The RX-T-333 was one of the most advanced computers in the entire galaxy. Among its achievements, it had solved chess to a draw in less than one hour of computing time. It also could take a brain scan of an advanced lifeform and predict its future decisions, under testable conditions, to just over 99.2% accuracy. The computer hosted the most complete model of the Rotham economy ever designed and proved able to predict short-term future market conditions with an accuracy of over 75%. The machine was an absolute beast, and a marvel of engineering. Some joked it had been used to disprove the existence of God within a confidence interval of 99.9% and that the calculation had taken less than five seconds. Alex doubted that last claim, though he had studied the others and knew they were true.

Which was why, as a member of Advent, specifically of Proxitor rank or higher, he had the privilege of booking time with the computer to work out sophisticated intelligence questions. The computer’s primary function was to assist in the dissemination of gathered intelligence and help to identify security vulnerabilities and predict future sources of danger to the Republic, such as military or terrorist attacks, as well as climate patterns on the various Republican worlds, predicting any boom-bust cycles of climate that might lead to food, water, or other resource surpluses and shortages, and so on.

Currently, Alex had the computer crunching a much different set of numbers. He had sped over to the Advent Headquarters directly from the Senate Chamber as speedily as he could, and had been grateful to find the RX-T-333 was being utilized for an unimportant function, something that he could stop with a command override. And so he had, and now the computer was working on the math he gave it, both mining information for him and modeling that information to make predictions based upon the parameters he fed it.

“Come on, give me good news,” he said as he heard the computer beep, informing him the calculation was complete. He examined the data sets to see what work had been done, quickly found himself dizzyingly lost in the specific math, but found the end conclusion perfectly, inescapably coherent.

“Damn,” he said, as he examined it, hoping that somehow there was some error, or some unaccounted for variable that might drastically change the outcome. Alas, to the best of his knowledge, and the RX-T-333’s capability, no such error or omitted variable existed. The conclusion was what it was. The face value guarantee that, if Alex was right, all life in the Republic as he knew it would be obliterated within the next five years.

He read the conclusion aloud, “All Republican military forces, under ideal circumstances, matched against the Dread Fleet results in a probability of victory of 0.00000034 for the Republic.”

That can’t be right
, he insisted to himself, feeling like a bowling ball had dropped in his stomach. “RX-T-333, does the equation account for all the ships, fleets, local garrisons, armable merchant marine, and other forces belonging to the Republic?”

The answer came back.
Affirmative
. He felt a chill trace his spine.

He next adjusted the parameters to test whether, given the Advent’s best state of knowledge, the remaining Imperial warships would be able to resist assault by the Dread Fleet, again under ideal conditions. The computer returned its response within an embarrassingly short window of time.

The Probability of Imperial Victory over the Dread Fleet under the Assigned Parameters is 0.00067
.

So the humans were just as helpless. Which meant, once the Dread Fleet had finished scorching and scourging the Empire, it would inevitably wind its way into Republican space, and, when it did, it would remain at near full strength and would prove to be an unstoppable force.

“The storm is coming,” he whispered as he stared at the numbers. “The storm is coming and it shall not be stopped. It cannot…”

He made several adjustments to account for any attrition the Dread Fleet would experience while fighting the humans, combined with the boost in defenses the Republic could raise during that time, should every shipyard, shipwright, dockyard, and interstellar facility be assigned to the task of producing warships, mines, and other defenses, at the maximum rate of production. He then forced the computer to assume ideal battle conditions for the meeting of the Republic’s navy against the Dread Fleet—a Dread Fleet that ought to have been weakened by its war with the Empire.

This time, the computer took more than a nanosecond to spit out its response, but it still took less than ten seconds.

The Probability of Republican Victory over the Dread Fleet under the Assigned Parameters is 0.00089
.

“Shit,” whispered Alex as he stared at the figure. “This can’t be right. This has to be wrong. There’s got to be some way we can beat them…”

“What are you researching?” asked a voice from behind, startling Alex. He spun his chair and was surprised to see K’Torva, the Grand Nau.

“Sir!” said Alex, jumping to his feet and saluting.

“At ease, Proxitor,” said the Grand Nau.

“Thank you, sir,” said Alex, still standing. Somehow it just didn’t feel right sitting down while in the presence of the Grand Nau.

“Now, tell me, Proxitor, what are you researching?” asked the Grand Nau. “I noticed that someone used a command override to stop my program, so I figured it must be
quite
important.”

Alex felt a deep sense of embarrassment come over him; that
inane
calculation that he’d stopped had been for the Grand Nau?

“I apologize, sir,” said Alex.

The Grand Nau raised his hands, “It’s quite all right. But you must tell me what you are researching; my curiosity is piqued.”

“I am running simulations, sir.”

“Of?”

“I—” Alex hesitated. “I learned of the intelligence that the Dread Fleet has been spotted on the move. I didn’t even think the Dread Fleet existed for a certainty, yet the Supreme Proxitor presented this information under oath before the Senate. Tell me, sir…is it true?”

The Grand Nau gave him a sobering look. “I’m afraid that it is. No other force of such a size and configuration exists. It must be the Dread Fleet. It emerged from Polarian Forbidden Space, has collected ships from all over the Confederacy, and it has scorched many Polarian planets, seeming to spare none it encounters. I ask you then, Proxitor, what else could it be?”

Alex nodded. “Only the Dread Fleet. But…I thought it was just a legend.”

“Not a legend,” said the Grand Nau. “Our archives have ample evidence of that. Though the Dread Fleet has not been summoned forth by the Council of Prelains in a great many generations.”

Alex felt a sinking feeling.

“You still have not told me what you are researching,” said the Grand Nau. “You do realize how many credits it costs to power the RX-T-333 per minute?”

“I apologize, sir, I did not mean to waste any Advent resources,” said Alex.

“I did not imply that you wasted them; that remains to be seen. Now, tell me, what are these figures?” asked the Grand Nau, as he peered at the various displays, as if trying to make sense of the math equations. Eventually, his eyes scanned the conclusion output. “The Probability of Republican Victory over the Dread Fleet under the Assigned Parameters is 0.00089
.
Well…now that
is
a grim prospect. Please tell me these
assigned parameters
imply worst-case scenario.”

“Best-case, sir.”

If the Grand Nau was upset by this, he did not show it. His face remained calm and his voice continued to have such a commanding presence; it was the type of voice that might get someone to practically believe the sound of it alone could command the forces of nature.
If only that were so
…

“With your permission, Grand Nau,” said Alex, “there is one more adjustment I wish to make. One more test to run. Then I will restart your program and leave the RX-T-333 the hell alone, sir. You have my word.”

“Run as many calculations as you like,” said the Grand Nau. “It’s only credits. It’s the taxpayers you should apologize to, not me.”

“Thank you, sir.” With that, Alex returned to his seat and began making several adjustments. He felt nervous doing so, as the Grand Nau seemed to hover over him, as if trying to make sense of exactly what Alex was doing. It made him self-conscious.

Alex adjusted the equations to predict what the chances of victory would be if the Empire and the Republic combined all their forces and cooperatively engaged their common enemy. After a minute of processing, the result returned:

The Probability of Republican and Imperial Joint Victory over the Dread Fleet is 0.01045
.

“Ah ha!” said Alex, as if he had just cracked some sort of code.

“Republican and Imperial Joint Victory?” asked the Grand Nau. “What in the galaxy is that supposed to mean?”

“Sir,” said Alex, “I believe that I have discovered our only and best hope of survival—albeit the situation remains grim.”

“Explain.”

“I have crunched the numbers, and have run hundreds of simulations, and in every case, our probability of defending ourselves against the Dread Fleet is astronomically small. Statistically negligent, even.”

“But the Dread Fleet is not in our space; it is the humans’ problem,” said the Grand Nau.

“Perhaps,” said Alex. “But, given the stories, do you really expect the Dread Fleet to stop its campaign of destruction in human space? Or do you think it’s more likely that, once the Dread Fleet is through with the humans, it will come for us?”

“That may be so,” admitted the Grand Nau, “but have you taken into consideration the fact that the humans will have greatly weakened the Dread Fleet through their own fighting? Maybe even stopping its advance?”

“I have considered both, sir,” said Alex. “Even with a reunited Empire, after the losses suffered by the humans when the Thetican star was destroyed, and considering the losses from their recent civil war, and the loss of the Apollo yards, the computer gives the Empire a fraction of a chance of success. One only slightly better than our own, but still statistically negligent. The humans cannot stop them. And neither can we. After the Dread Fleet has steamrolled the Empire, slaughtering billions, they will come for us, and, when they do, we will be as unable to resist them as the Empire was.”

“The Empire’s war against the Dread Fleet, doomed though it may be, it could buy us time to start mass producing warships, we could use every system and every shipyard to prepare ourselves,” insisted the Grand Nau.

“I ran those numbers too,” said Alex. “And our chances of victory remain essentially zero.”

“Damn,” said the Grand Nau.

“Which is why I believe our only and best hope of survival is to join forces with the humans and form a tactical alliance; together, we have a chance. The computer doesn’t give us a great chance, but it is at least on the map, more than one percent.”

“That still sounds like only a slim advantage,” said the Great Nau, “to risk trusting our historical enemies. Especially since they destroyed their own star in Thetican System to eliminate one of our greatest war fleets.”

Alex doubted that that was what had happened. To make his argument to the Great Nau, though, he had to use the benefit of a visual aid.

“Examine this, if you would, please, sir,” said Alex. He had the RX-T-333 pull up the limited captured footage of the Battle of Thetican System—all that had been broadcast over kataspace before the fleet was destroyed, combined with any footage recorded by any of the few surviving ships.

“I’ve seen these recordings before,” said the Grand Nau.

“I’m sure you have, sir, I do not doubt it. But what you might not have noticed, sir, is this,” Alex made sure to change angle and zoom appropriately to get the best, clearest, most complete picture of the fighting he could leading up until the destruction of the star. He played it first in fast motion. There was a lot of fighting, a lot of flashes as starships were destroyed in massive numbers as they launched projectiles and beam weapons at one another. Hordes of fighters swarmed larger cruisers, taking them down, and then, without warning, the star exploded. The ships began to flee. Some escaped, most did not.