The Phoenix Rising (42 page)

“
What are you talking about,
Midshipman?” asked Summers.

He frowned at her. “Trust me. This is for
the greater good.”

“
I’ll move the ship deeper
into the mines,” said Sarah. “But that won’t buy us much
time.”

Summers didn’t take her eyes
off of Patrick. “Engage the stealth system. That’s an
order
.”

Patrick shook his head. “Really, I’m
surprised at you, Commander. I would’ve expected you, of all
people, to understand. I don’t know what happened to you...”

“
Listen to my
order
.” There was a time,
not too long ago, when Summers would have found herself doing the
very thing Patrick was doing. Part of her sympathized. They had
clear orders from the Fleet and were in possession of their ship
unlawfully, therefore they
had
to surrender. But now that the images of the Fifth
Fleet’s self-destruction haunted her dreams, and she knew that the
Fleet had become corrupted, she couldn’t afford to turn herself in.
Not yet. For all she knew, this ship was the only ship in the whole
Empire dedicated to restoring the Fleet to its proper order. If
only she could make him see that.

“
I’m sorry, sir,” said
Patrick.

“
In that case, midshipman,
you are relieved,” said Summers, walking swiftly toward the defense
post. “Get off my bridge.”

Patrick got out of the chair
and stared down at her. “
Make
me
.”

“
Lieutenant Winters, call
for special forces.”

***

It didn’t make sense. Why had the Nighthawk
revealed itself? If they were heeding Nimoux’s warning and
surrendering—which would be extremely convenient—then why did the
ship refuse to communicate? And why was it moving farther away? Was
this some sort of trick? It was almost like a mutiny was playing
out on the Nighthawk’s bridge, or a disagreement between the
defense officer and the pilot.

“
Intercept course, fastest
safe speed,” said Nimoux. “Ops, track that ship’s position. Helm,
order the Rhea to help us bring in the Nighthawk.”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Tell the rest of the
squadron to hold position.” In case this
was
a trick, he wasn’t about to move
his ships out of containment formation and give the Nighthawk a
chance to outrun them and escape. That and he didn’t want his
larger ships to stray too close to the mines.“The Nighthawk is
continuing to reposition itself deeper inside the minefield,” said
the ops officer.

“
The Rhea acknowledges
pursuit order,” said the pilot.

“
Can we fire on the
Nighthawk without setting off the mines?” asked Nimoux.

“
Yes, sir, if we move in
closely and avoid using explosive ordnance.”

“
Order the Rhea not to fire
any missiles.”

“
Yes, sir,” said the pilot.
Adding a moment later, “the Rhea acknowledges.”

“
Time to weapons range?”
asked Nimoux.

“
Just over two
minutes.”

“
Defense, lock all guns onto
the Nighthawk’s engines and propulsion. Let’s disable her. Helm,
tell the Rhea to have her troops standing by. We’ll take the ship
intact if we can.”

***

“
They’re locking weapons.
Expect incoming fire in about ninety seconds,” said
Sarah.

Summers stood face to face with Patrick—only
inches away. He was taller than her, and broader, but she didn’t
let herself feel intimidated.

“
Stand down,
midshipman
,” she
said.

“
No
,” he replied icily.

Summers moved past him, reaching for the
defense console. She’d re-enable the stealth system herself if she
had to. Patrick deflected her arm. She recoiled, then made another
attempt, ramming him with her shoulder to get by, but he kept his
balance and, in retaliation, shoved her hard.

Cassidy gasped as Summers crumpled to the
floor. Pain shot along Summers’ side and up her left wrist. She
ignored it and sprang back to her feet.

“
Don’t make me hurt you,
Commander,” said Patrick. “Because
I
will
.”

“
You do
not
treat her like that,” said
Cassidy. She jumped up from her console and approached Patrick. Her
hands balled into fists.

Sarah jumped up also, ready to charge to the
front of the bridge and let Patrick have it. Summers stopped her.
“Stay at your post, lieutenant,” she said. “You need to keep this
ship as far away from them as possible, for as long as
possible.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, obviously wanting to
teach Patrick a lesson, but she accepted Summers’ logic and put her
headset back on. “Aye sir. Sixty seconds until weapons range.”

Cassidy threw a punch at Patrick, which he
blocked. He caught her arm and twisted it around her back, causing
her to scream in pain.

“
I don’t want to hurt you
either,” said Patrick. “But you give me no choice.”

Summers felt a flush of rage pour through
her, but she controlled it. Knowing it would do no good to lash out
in wild, unbridled anger. Instead she kept her wits about her, and
approached Patrick carefully, in a defensive stance. Her limited
martial arts training took command of her instincts.

Patrick tossed Cassidy aside and turned to
face Summers. His eyes locked with hers, showing stern defiance. He
raised his fists into a boxer’s pose. Summers had no doubt that he
would strike her if she went any closer.

“
Thirty-five seconds” said
Sarah.

Obviously there wasn’t time to wait for
special forces to arrive. Summers had to act now. She looked
Patrick up and down for a moment, noting how he balanced his weight
–feet a little too closely together. He was fit and certainly
stronger than Summers, and he’d been through a similar martial arts
program during his training—she had no doubt—but she was faster and
smarter. Those advantages had to count for something.

“
Thirty seconds.”

“
Give it up,
Commander
,” said Patrick
smugly. “It’s over.”

Summers moved instantly. She closed the
distance and threw all her weight and momentum into Patrick. He
caught her but tumbled backwards. His back struck the defense
console with a loud crack. He grunted and seemed to shrug off the
pain as he grappled to control Summers’ arms.

She broke free from him and sent a fast jab
toward his nose. Followed by a left hook to the side of his head.
He blocked both and threw a swipe of his own at Summers.
Predictable and heavy-handed, his fist swung at her and she easily
ducked it. On her way back up she threw another punch, one he
wasn’t expecting, and struck him hard in the throat.

Patrick slumped to the ground, choking and
wheezing. Struggling to breath. Summers ignored him and went
immediately to the defense console.

“
Weapons lock in eight
seconds.”

She was grateful she’d taken the time to
familiarize herself with the Nighthawk’s systems. The layout of the
defense console was not drastically different than those she’d used
before, but she’d never had access to a stealth system in the
past.

“
Got it,” said Summers.
“Stealth system re-engaged.”

“
Changing course now,” said
Sarah. “Hopefully they don’t see us.”

Summers prepped herself to raise the shields
if the worst should happen, at least then they’d have a fighting
chance.

“
The Desert Eagle is firing
its guns,” said Cassidy. “Now the Rhea too.”

Summers closed her eyes and braced
herself.

Nothing happened.

“
They fired on our previous
position. Both ships have answered full stop. We are no longer
being pursued.”

Sarah let out a cheer. “Yes! They don’t see
us!”

Summers sighed with relief. She swiveled the
defense chair to look at Patrick who was still on the ground, and
not looking so good. He seemed barely conscious. She knelt down
next to him, trying to think of what first aid to give.

The elevator door opened and Summers looked
up to see two special forces soldiers enter the bridge, stunners
raised. Spotting her and Patrick, they raced over.

“
Take him away and keep him
under guard,” said Summers, standing up once more.

“
Yes, sir,” one of the
soldiers said. They hoisted Patrick up and began carrying him
toward the elevator.

“
And see that he gets
immediate medical assistance.”

Chapter 25

“
Wrong
answer
,” said the voice over the
earpiece.

An awful deep bellow sounded. It not only
came through the earpiece, it came through the walls. Calvin felt
it in his bones. He reacted in pain, trying to plug his ears. So
did the others. Even the Polarians seemed disturbed by it. And
Tristan’s eyes flashed bright red.

“
What is
that
?” asked Alex.

“
I’m afraid that neither of
us is leaving this place alive...” said the voice.

“
Move
!” shouted Pellew. He bolted around the corner, firearm
raised. The Polarians followed him closely. Calvin and Shen at
their heels. They raced down the hall. Tristan quickly overtook the
others. When they reached the room where the rendezvous was
happening, Tristan ripped the door aside and charged in.

“
Hands on your heads,”
shouted Pellew as he disappeared inside.

Only after the Polarians got through did
Calvin get his first glimpse of the rendezvous room. It was empty
and blank, with only the one set of windows—as described by the
blueprints they’d studied; there was no furniture. Surprisingly,
there was only one Enclave agent. He was in human form with white
hair, thin physique, and a crooked expression on his face. He wore
normal civilian clothes and stood holding some kind of metallic
device—no doubt the source of the awful sound they’d heard. Alex
was only a few feet away.

“
I said hands on your head!”
shouted Pellew as he approached the Enclave agent, weapon leveled
at the man’s chest.

“
It’s too late,” the Enclave
agent said, looking at Pellew with a strange smile that showed both
pleasure and despair. “In a few seconds, nothing will
matter.”

Pellew knocked the metal device out of the
man’s hands and he and one of the Polarians seized him. Tristan
watched from nearby, his veins and muscles popping, ready to tear
into their captive at the first sign of resistance.

But the Enclave agent did
not resist. “It’s too late,” he said. “
For
all of us
.”

“
What is the fool talking
about?” asked Rez’nac.

“
Who cares,” said Pellew,
double-checking the restraints he’d just placed on the Enclave
agent to make sure they were secure. “We need to get to that silo
and plant the charges on those isotome weapons.”

Calvin knew he was right.

Rez’nac said something in Polarian and one
of his men shot the window leading outside—causing it to shatter.
He then carved the glass away with his knife. Letting in a gust of
chilly air and the haunted sound of moaning wind.

“
Through the window is the
fastest way to the silo,” said Rez’nac.

“
Agreed,” said Calvin, and
he began organizing them. “Rez’nac, have one of your men take this
thing back to the gunship,” Calvin nodded toward their
captive.

“
Of course,” said Rez’nac.
He then uttered something in Polarian and one of the large,
muscular blue aliens walked up to their captive and hefted him over
his shoulder. Then he jogged away, carrying the captive as if he
weighed nothing, back the way they’d come. That left their numbers
at sixteen—three humans, a Rotham, eleven Polarians, and one
Tristan. Most of whom carried charges to destroy the isotome
weapons.

Calvin continued his orders. “The rest of us
will go to the silo. Pellew, you lead the—”

He stopped himself abruptly and listened.
Over the moan of the wind he could hear something. “What is that?”
he asked.

“
What is what?” asked
Pellew.

“
I hear it too,” said
Alex.

The sound grew in volume. It was like a
slow, steady thunder heading their way.

“
What the hell is that?”
asked Pellew. “It sounds like... an army running toward
us.”

Tristan flashed his teeth and his eyes
glowed red. He let out a hiss. “It’s the jaws of death!”

Calvin listened. It was thousands and
thousands of footsteps pounding their way, converging on their
position from the outside. Calvin felt a chill trace his spine as
he realized what the Enclave agent had meant. His strange device
had called out and attracted a horde of type one Remorii. And now
that savage, starving horde was fast descending on them.

“
What do we do?” asked Alex.
He looked at Calvin.

“
If we run, maybe we can
make it back to the gunship,” said Tristan.

“
What about the isotome
weapons?” asked Alex. “We can’t just leave them!”

Calvin agreed. He hadn’t
come this far, and gotten this close to the deadly stockpile, only
to turn tail and run now. He’d sworn to himself that he’d give up
anything, and pay any price, to rid the galaxy of them. But now
that he was faced with that choice, he was more hesitant than he’d
expected. And the fear that gripped him, seizing his throat, gave
him the urge to run. Hide! Escape!
Anything
. But he resisted
it.