The Phoenix Rising (23 page)

While awaiting further results from the
Desert Eagle’s lab, and the Rhea’s, he’d gone into his office to
meditate. His crew had instructions to only interrupt him if there
was an emergency, or if the Nighthawk’s destination had been more
conclusively determined. Until then, Nimoux wished to be alone with
his thoughts.

He was able to push away the guilt that
usually weighed heavily upon him during such meditation sessions.
He thought of the recent failure and tried to sort out why his plan
had not succeeded. Had there been a flaw in his design? Had he made
erroneous assumptions? Had Calvin been able to see through the
deception? Or had he been warned?

Nimoux considered each possibility in depth.
Admitting flaws in his ideas, or being wrong, never bothered him.
If it meant a chance for greater epiphany, and more accurate
knowledge, he welcomed the opportunity to be proven wrong. He’d
never understood the almost universal flaw others had to defend
wrong information, imperfect logic, or bad ideas in order to
protect pride. Such was a charade that no one found convincing, and
only managed to waste time.

Open-minded as he was, he couldn’t identify
anything specifically flawed about his plan and how the operation
had been conducted. By all appearances, the Nighthawk had been led
to the trap and had very nearly sprung it. If Calvin had seen
through the deception, it must have been after arrival and meant
the Nighthawk’s sensors were more apt than given credit.

Or, just as plausible—perhaps more so—Calvin
had been warned about the trap just before springing it. The timing
of such a warning seemed almost too lucky to be believable, but,
the more Nimoux thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

He’d had to finalize the specific details of
his plan through several layers of Intel Wing bureaucracy and any
number of people could have leaked the information to Calvin. If
such an agent existed, a mole working for Calvin, that person had
been very lucky to reach Calvin as quickly as he did. And must have
relied on many varied contact methods, including extremely broad
kataspace frequency channels.

Nimoux considered other possibilities for
the next twenty minutes, and let his mind relax and empty itself
for an additional ten, but by the time his meditation was over, he
found himself over ninety percent certain that Calvin had a mole
working for him inside Intel Wing. He decided to spend the next
little while figuring out who.

The person was probably—though not
necessarily—an associate of Calvin’s, someone he knew in person and
was on a first name basis with. Since Nimoux had been assigned this
mission, bringing Calvin in, he’d created a fairly extensive
profile of Calvin’s past. The younger man had been widely involved
throughout his life. He’d gone to several schools and served in the
navy before being recruited into Intel Wing. Nimoux decided to
dismiss all of those possible leads for now, believing that
Calvin’s circle of associates with Intel Wing access would
necessarily be much smaller.

Director Edwards was a possibility, he’d
acted as Calvin’s handler—and managed all stealth ships in Intel
Wing, including Nimoux’s. He certainly would have means and
opportunity, but no motive was forthcoming. Nor had Edwards seemed
insincere in his desire to bring Calvin in. Nimoux had noted an
oddness to Edwards, something about his voice or body language, but
none of the tell-tale signs of guilt or deception. More likely the
result of fatigue or distraction. Nothing too damning.

As Nimoux perused the Intel Wing database
and cross-checked his profile of Calvin with larger networks of
information, he stumbled onto something that even a fool wouldn’t
miss.

Some of Calvin’s crewmembers—men and women
who’d been with Calvin when he’d gone rogue—had returned to Intel
Wing. Allegedly indemnifying themselves with assurances that they
had no part in Calvin’s rogue actions, and had nothing but the
strictest loyalty toward Intel Wing. Supposedly they’d each been
thoroughly interrogated, and their stories tested against one
another, before being cleared to resume duty.

Why had Calvin allowed these officers to
leave his ship and potentially work against him? The superficial
response, that he let them go of their own free will as a sign of
good faith, didn’t seem nearly as plausible as that he let them go
because he benefitted from their absence. Perhaps because one or
more had been given instructions to relay information to him.

Apparently only four officers had returned.
Which narrowed the suspect list significantly. Nimoux couldn’t
identify the likeliest candidate—perhaps they were all in on it
together—but that was something Intel Wing could easily
determine.

He tapped the switch on his desk. “Bridge,
connect me to the office of Director Edwards.”

“
Yes, sir.”

A few moments later and the director’s face
was looking back at him from the other side of the display. “What
is it, Captain? Have you determined where the Nighthawk has
gone?”

“
Not yet, sir. But I believe
I know why my first effort was unsuccessful. I suspect Mister Cross
has a mole working for him inside Intel Wing. And I believe that
mole is one or more of the officers who left the Nighthawk and were
recently reinstated inside Intel Wing. I believe the mole relayed
information to Calvin that compromised the mission.”

“
I see,” said the Director.
“I’ll assign someone to look into it right away. Is there anything
else?”

“
Yes, I also have a
request.”

“
What is it?”

“
Due to the failure in the
Vulture Nebula, and the possibility that not all channels are
secure, I request permission to arrange the details of my
operations through stricter channels. I would also like the ability
to act without constant need to obtain clearance.”

“
Are you asking for
unilateral authority over this mission?” asked the Director.
“Because I can’t give you that.”

“
Not unilateral, sir,” said
Nimoux. “But I would be a lot more effective if the process of
maneuvering resources and conducting operations was shorter and
more secure.”

“
I understand. Since you’re
using navy resources in addition to our own, I’ll have to speak
with Fleet Admiral Tiberon. But I believe something can be
arranged.”

“
Also,” said Nimoux.
“Because the Nighthawk’s destination cannot be determined with
perfect confidence, I will need a larger taskforce of ships. I
understand the burden this will impose, however—”

“
Request granted,” said the
director. “Your mission is one of our highest priorities. I am sure
arrangements for a larger taskforce will not be an issue. So long
as you guarantee that this speeds up the capture of the
Nighthawk.”

“
It will, sir,” said Nimoux.
“You have my word on that.” Though it did strike him as odd that
capturing the Nighthawk was such an urgent priority for Intel Wing.
Perhaps the Nighthawk carried intelligence that was even more
sensitive than Nimoux had previously thought. “In particular I am
interested in any ships near or inside the DMZ.”

“
I’ll submit your request.
You should seriously consider including the ISS Phoenix on your
taskforce. It’s on patrol in the Corridor and could be easily
diverted.”

“
The Phoenix?” asked Nimoux.
What an unusual suggestion. “Isn’t that ship currently under the
command of Calvin’s former XO, Commander Anand Datar?”

“
That’s correct.”

“
With respect, sir,” said
Nimoux, “involving Datar might produce a conflict of interest for
him. I am not doubting his loyalty to the Empire... but I’m not so
sure I can expect him to not be emotionally compromised in such an
action. My best research indicates that Cross and Datar were
friends for many years before serving together, and that Cross
hand-selected Datar to serve with him for his stint on the
Nighthawk.”

“
Your concern is noted,
Captain,” said the director. His lips curled into a slight smile.
“I am hoping that involving Datar will have that effect on
Calvin—that
he
will
become emotionally compromised. As for Commander Datar, I assure
you that he is trustworthy and willing to do whatever it takes.
Let’s just say... he’s strongly motivated to bring Lt. Commander
Cross in.”

Nimoux would simply have to take Edwards’
word for it. “Very well, then. I’m sure that the Phoenix’s fighting
capabilities will be an extremely useful addition to the
taskforce.”

***

Making sure that his office door was locked,
Calvin sat down at his desk and accepted the secure call.

“
I wasn’t expecting to hear
from you,” said Calvin.

A familiar goateed face looked back at him
quizzically. “You asked me to keep you informed.”

“
Of course,” said Calvin.
“What’s this about, Grady? Did you find out more about CERKO? Like
why they want to kill me?” Ever since the
terrorist-turned-mercenary organization had tried to kill him on
Aleator, Calvin hadn’t quite been able to figure how they fit into
everything else. For that matter, he felt like he had far more
mysteries than answers, and though he suspected that many of them
connected, he just couldn’t make the puzzle pieces fit together.
Not yet.

“
No, not about CERKO,” said
Grady. “I told you, the insider we tracked down already paid the
price.”

Right.
Now Calvin remembered. The Roscos had managed to kill their
only lead while subjecting him to torture. “Then what
is
this about?” Calvin
would be severely irritated if this was simply the Roscos’ latest
attempt to satisfy the supposed ‘debt’ they owed him.

“
I thought you should know
that there have been several complaints among some of the key
traders on Aleator. A lot of things have gone missing. And they
vanished about the same time that Asari Raidan’s people were
here.”

“
What kind of things?” asked
Calvin.

“
Dangerous
things.”

“
Not helpful,
Grady.”

“
I’m not saying Raidan stole
those things, but it is quite a coincidence that they all happened
to disappear about the same time his people were on Aleator
One.”

“
Grady, listen to me,” said
Calvin. “What things specifically?”

“
I’ll forward you a list,”
he said. “Components and ingredients mostly.”

“
For...?”

Grady cleared his throat but didn’t
answer.

Calvin took Grady’s evasiveness as either a
sign that he was honor bound not to share the specific cargo of his
pet traders—no doubt illegal substances—or else the missing cargo
implied something extremely deadly. Perhaps it was both. But
nothing would have shocked Calvin. Whatever it was certainly wasn’t
as lethal as isotome weapons. Unless...

“
Grady, was anyone carrying
Isotome?”

“
No. A lot of chemicals
mostly. No Isotome.”

Calvin raised an eyebrow. Just then the list
of ingredients arrived and Calvin began skimming over it. Grady
hadn’t been kidding. There were some seriously strange and
dangerous compounds on the list. Most notably cultures of
biological toxins and deadly viruses. There were several expensive,
controlled chemical compounds as well. “It looks like whoever took
all of this is creating chemical and biological weapons. Some of
this stuff could have a severe effect on an alien planet’s
eco-system.”

“
I thought you’d be
interested.”

“
And you say all of this
disappeared about the time Raidan’s people were on Aleator
One?”

“
Yes. But you didn’t hear it
from me.”

What would Raidan want with biological and
chemical weapons of mass destruction?

“
Thank you, Grady. I
appreciate your letting me know.”

Grady smiled. “Always glad to help a friend
of the family.”

He signed off.

Very odd
... This new twist was nothing compared to the menacing
isotome weapons, but it wasn’t something Calvin could dismiss. Such
weapons violated the terms of every international peace agreement
and, if used correctly, could result in the devastation of whole
colonies. Casualties could be in the hundreds of millions. Maybe
even billions.

It alarmed Calvin that such dangerous
substances were floating around the black market and could make
their way to Aleator, but the thought that Raidan was acquiring
them and building weapons was of greatest concern. What did he want
with them? Did he intend to use them? Was it payment for something
else? Didn’t he appreciate the dangers behind it? And the ethical
considerations? Or was this an order from someone higher up in the
Organization?

Perhaps Raidan was being framed. Calvin
couldn’t rule anything out. He pressed the switch on his desk and
asked for Tristan to come in. He unlocked the door remotely, so the
lycan could enter, and Tristan was there in under a minute.

“
What is it,
Captain?”

Calvin waited for the door to slide shut
before speaking, wanting their conversation to remain private. “I
need you to be completely open with me.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“
Is Raidan assembling
weapons?”

“
What do you
mean?”

Calvin didn’t interpret Tristan’s response
as cryptic and evasive so much as a failure on his part to ask a
clear enough question. “Come here,” he said.