Chapter 25

 

Calvin and Summers were in the infirmary, standing next to Nimoux’s bed. Nimoux sat there, still under doctor’s care, but he’d awoken. Which, according to Dr. Andrews, meant he was probably out of the woods.

“I’d like to keep him here a little longer before discharging him,” the doctor had said. “He’s still hurt and the wound will take some time to heal. But he should recover.”

“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised to find you on my ship,” said Calvin, now knowing who the mysterious fourth patient was, the one he hadn’t been able to see.

“I’m as surprised as you are, Lt. Commander,” said Nimoux with some difficulty. He was sitting up and looked ready to begin unplugging himself from all the equipment and return to duty. The only things stopping him were Calvin’s orders for him to obey the doctors and a medic, who stood over him, attending to his needs.

“Summers told me about the camp,” said Calvin, thinking it eerie as hell that those replaced by replicants had been incarcerated and eventually slaughtered, with only Nimoux managing to escape.

Apparently, much had happened in his absence. Not only was there a sizable hole on deck four, currently patched but not repaired, but Captain Pellew had actually shot Nimoux shortly before he, and all of his men but four, had been slaughtered by a solo operative or else blown out into space. That too had seemed like a shocking, almost unbelievable story, and had there not been so much testimony and evidence to corroborate it, Calvin wasn’t sure he would believe it.

“When Shen described what he saw on deck four,” said Summers, bringing up another mystery to Calvin, just how the hell had he survived such an experience? “You spoke in your brief state of consciousness. It sounded like you could identify the intruder. I must ask you, Captain, do you know who it was?”

Nimoux did not answer right away. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and Calvin momentarily thought the man had lost consciousness again. Just as he was about to hail the attending medic, who was currently discussing something with Dr. Andrews, Nimoux spoke.

“I cannot say I know who he was for sure,” said Nimoux. “And if he was who I think he was, then that is very surprising. Very surprising indeed.”

“Surprising why?” asked Summers. “You described the man perfectly, according to Shen. To me, that says your guess was correct.”

Nimoux took another deep breath. “I only made my guess because I can think of no one else who could have performed such a feat successfully. To defeat the entirety of this ship’s soldiers, both mercenary and highly trained Special Forces, and successfully steal the isotome weapon…I can only believe one man is capable of such a thing.”

“Who was he?” asked Calvin. “Can you give us a name?”

“I can,” said Nimoux. “But I believe more explanation is necessary.”

“We’re all ears,” said Summers.

“Very well,” said Nimoux, letting out a sigh and inhaling another deep breath. He closed his eyes again for a moment, apparently in deep thought. As if lost in another time, or another life. “You know how nobody has ever successfully entered Polarian Forbidden Space and returned?”

“Yes,” said Calvin. Everybody knew that. What lurked in that darkness was one of the galaxy’s greatest unsolved mysteries.

“Well,” said Nimoux, “that’s not entirely true.”

“What?!?” asked Summers and Calvin at the same time.

“Once there was a mission, ten years ago, with the specific intention of sending in a small expert team to perform reconnaissance and report on what they found. The mission was so top secret it was code Dark Black Black.”

“What does that mean?” asked Summers.

“It means, if anything happened to them, such as getting captured, the Imperial government would deny all knowledge of their existence and there would be no negotiation for their return or any rescue mission. If you go Dark Black Black, you’re on your own.”

“Exactly right,” said Nimoux. “The selection process was also kept deeply under wraps. I’m not sure who made the choices or how exactly they were made, but my name was one of the ones that came up.”

“Are you telling me you’ve been inside Polarian Forbidden Space?” asked Calvin, thinking Nimoux’s knowledge, if so, would be a tremendously valuable resource for the upcoming mission.

“No, I haven’t,” said Nimoux, to Calvin’s dismay. “And I’ll get to that in a minute.”

“Anyway, I was selected for this mission, along with a handful of other candidates. There were ten of us, but they needed to weed us down to five. We didn’t know what the mission was, or any of its details, as they put us through rigorous trials of intelligence, physical stamina, and combat ability. Based on the tests, I believe they recruited from the pool of those who had experience in Special Forces and Intel Wing. But I never got that confirmed.”

“So, did you make the final cut?” asked Summers.

“Actually, no,” said Nimoux. “But it turned out to be a very good thing.”

“Why is that?” asked Calvin.

“Because none of the five they sent ever made it back. At least that we know of.”

“Okay…” said Calvin, “then how do you even know that was what the mission was?”

“I pieced it together. One time I confronted the selection officer, never did get her name, and asked her about the inherent risks of such a mission and, in the likely case the team was caught, how that might create a diplomatic incident. Anyway, they denied everything I asked them, but I got scrubbed from the mission, even though I tested in at number three. I took that as confirmation of my suspicions.”

“So, this intruder, he was one of the ones selected?” asked Summers.

“I believe so. If I’m right, he was the one who tested into the number one spot,” said Nimoux. “His name was Lucious ‘the Moth’ Black.”

“The Moth?” asked Calvin.

“Each member of the team had a moniker assigned to them. His was ‘the Moth.’ I have to tell you, not only did he test in at number one, none of the rest of us came in anywhere near his results. I’ve never in my life, including all my years in Special Forces, seen a person with greater tactical awareness. Once we did a drill where numbers two through five went against him in a mock battle, and he beat us. I was astounded.”

“So, based on his skill, you think he was the one who defeated Pellew and all of Special Forces and the rest of the garrison?” asked Calvin.

“I don’t know who else could have done it.”

“What happened to the team?” asked Summers. “You said nobody made it back.”

“No one is certain what happened to the team. Once they got into Polarian Forbidden Space, they started sending back some very strange reports. Not long after that, the second in command sent back a mostly incoherent report and then complete silence after that. All contact lost.”

“You say mostly incoherent,” said Calvin. “What was the coherent part?”

“As near as we could tell, Lucious had turned on his own allies and begun slaughtering the rest of the team. It was classified as a murder-suicide with no survivors, and then buried under so many layers of top secret classification no one would ever find it.”

“So you think he didn’t commit suicide,” said Calvin. “You believe he survived and, serving some kind of strange agenda, boarded our ship, slaughtered our soldiers, and stole the isotome weapon no one should have known was aboard the ship?” The whole thing sounded a bit on the unlikely side to Calvin, but Nimoux seemed convinced. And he wasn’t a person whose opinions could be dismissed lightly.

“In essence, yes,” said Nimoux. “There was a rumor among the other five of us, those who didn’t make the cut. We theorized, based on another part of the message which may or may not have been white noise, the Moth hadn’t gone insane so much as he’d gone native. Somehow, he was seduced by the Polarian religion.”

“But humans aren’t allowed in the Polarian religion,” said Summers. “Because we do not have souls, or something to that effect.”

Calvin thought of what Rez’nac had said, how there was a schism in the religion and apparently one sect wanted to remain loyal to the traditional Essences, while the other wanted to press some kind of monotheistic change. Perhaps Lucius the Moth Black had been pulled in by the latter, though Calvin couldn’t understand why.

“Is that what you believe happened?” asked Calvin. “That he went native? That he found God among the Polarians and that, somehow, meant he had to slaughter his team and vanish off to who knows where?”

“I’m not sure what I believe,” said Nimoux. “Not without more information. But it is a possibility.”

“If he stole our isotome weapon because of some kind of religious zealotry,” said Calvin, “that means he’s probably not working in concert with the Rahajiim, or the Enclave.”

“True,” said Summers. “But if he’s religiously committed to using the weapon, then there’s no telling what he might do with it, or who he might hurt.”

“I agree with the Commander,” said Nimoux, clenching in obvious pain. “In Lucious’s hands the isotome weapon is a dangerous threat, at least as much as it would be had the Enclave or the Rahajiim acquired it. If he took it, then I expect him to use it. Though I cannot guess at where or why.”

Calvin considered that for a moment. He decided he would have to ask Rez’nac who the enemies of the Dark Ones were, aside from other Polarians, and which system they would be likeliest to destroy if they acquired such a weapon.

“What do you suppose triggered him to snap like that?” asked Summers. “Assuming your theory is correct.”

“I can’t feign the slightest hypothesis,” said Nimoux. “Although, it is often said that not only is Polarian Forbidden Space stranger than you dream, they also say it is stranger than you can dream. If that’s true, then it could have been anything. It might even be something that affects one or more of us once we get there. Who can say for sure?”

Calvin didn’t like the sound of that. Currently, they were on their way to make port, both to repair their hull, resupply, and take on some additional crew, provided he found anyone trustworthy and brave enough, but after that it was full speed to the Charred Worlds and beyond them to Polarian Forbidden Space. He didn’t like the thought there could be something out there which might mess with the minds of his crew or, even more dangerously, affect his own mind. He shuddered at the thought, then dismissed it as science fiction. Just because one man had gone mad didn’t mean others would do the same.

“So, now that you’re back, Calvin,” said Nimoux, “I take it that means I am no longer the Acting XO?”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” said Calvin, “that’s Summers’ job. But, based on what Summers has told me about you and your gallant efforts against Pellew, I would be honored if you were willing to accept the position of Acting 2O with my apologies for the fact you’d be working below two officers, both of whom you outrank.”

“I would consider it a privilege to serve as 2O,” said Nimoux.

Calvin was glad to hear it. “I have one other thing to ask of you,” he said. “I know you need to rest up and heal.” Dr. Andrews had given Nimoux excellent odds of recovery, but had warned he still might ultimately succumb to complications from the gunshot wound. “However, I am short a commander for my Special Forces garrison. Would you accept that job as well, considering your prior experience with Special Forces?”

“I suppose I can do double duty,” said Nimoux. “Although I can’t imagine there will be much point in having command over our four remaining, mutinous soldiers.”

“Better to have someone I trust overseeing them than no one,” said Calvin. “Besides, I mean to take on more soldiers at port, should we find anyone trustworthy enough.”

“Ah, I see,” said Nimoux. “In that case, yes, of course I accept.”

“Thank you,” said Calvin, hoping the duties he’d dropped on the recovering legendary officer would not prove too much on top of his injury. Only time would tell, Calvin supposed.

 

***

 

“To all life on Capital World,” said Raidan, standing tall before the background of the Harbinger’s massive Bridge. No other officers were in view of the camera, which was broadcasting on all the channels and frequencies of Capital World. “Be you citizens or not, I now give you fair warning. Know this: your planet is in grave danger! The threat? Me.” He paused for effect.

“I have at my command a flotilla of warships fast approaching your world. Our weapons are numerous and our crosshairs are fixed upon you all. The devastation we shall unleash will be a hell beyond imagining.” He paused again. “And if you think your government can save you, you are wrong. Its fleet cannot overtake me; it is far afield, in Ophiuchus System waging war against an Imperial planet, just as I aim to do against you. So rally your pathetic defenses and raise your alarms! They will avail you nothing. Ophiuchus did the same, and has fallen. Your fate is equally sealed.” He paused again.

“Unless you meet my one demand. Kill Caerwyn Martel! That’s right, kill Caerwyn Martel, the usurper who sits upon your throne. Slay him and deliver his body to me when I arrive. If you do not, then I shall rain down a barrage of missiles and beam weapons upon you and none shall be spared the slaughter! So heed my words! Do this one thing: overthrow your king. Either Caerwyn Martel dies, or you do! You have nineteen hours. I suggest you use them wisely.”

 

***

 

The Bridge was an ordered chaos as each station chief kept reporting loudly on the status of the Black Swan’s various systems. So far, the dreadnought was holding steady and Kalila, Captain Adiger, and Sir Gregory had their eyes glued to the various 3D displays, which kept track of the ongoing battle.

The Rotham fleet had been taken completely by surprise and, so far anyway, the pincer attack was unleashing hell upon the enemy. Their ships were sandwiched between the planetary defenses and Kalila’s two major fleets in such a tight cluster it seemed impossible for Kalila’s warships to miss their targets. The enemy was starting to adapt, beginning to disentangle their formation into something capable of fighting back, but in the meantime they were taking heavy losses.

“Keep the pressure on them!” said Kalila, as she watched lights winking out on each of the displays, most of them belonging to the enemy.

Captain Adiger kept his attention primarily on commanding the Black Swan itself while Sir Gregory helped Kalila to coordinate and command the battle. He had access to a comm panel that, with the push of a button, was programmed to transmit encrypted messages to the entire fleet.

“Leopard Squadron, hold your position,” said Sir Gregory. “Yellow Jacket Squadron, move now to support Leopard. The rest of you, keep pushing!”

Kalila heard someone approaching from behind. She turned to see Garrick, one of her spymasters.

“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. “But there is an urgent report for you from our network on Capital World.”

“Can't it wait?” asked Kalila. Now wasn’t exactly a good time; she had a battle to win.

“In my judgment? No.”

“Very well,” said Kalila. “Have it ready in my office.”

Garrick nodded and left. Kalila turned to Sir Gregory, “I trust you to command the battle in my absence.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Her eyes locked with his. “Make. Them. Bleed.”

“With prejudice, Your Majesty.”

She went to her office where, true to his word, Garrick had a recorded message ready to play. The screen was paused on a picture of Raidan. He stood upon the Harbinger’s Bridge, looking domineering.

“Play message,” she said.

The message played. It wasn’t exactly the move she'd expected from Raidan, but it was close enough and would suffice.

Because she’d had some indication this was coming, she was ready with her own broadcast in short order. This one also sent to every channel and frequency of Capital World, but also to the Empire at large.

“I, Queen Kalila Akira, have received word that one Asari Raidan, a rogue at the head of many warships, has made threat of death against our beloved capital and the citizens there. To all within the sound of my voice, know this. Such threats will not be tolerated. We are one people and one Empire and must stand united. Therefore, I hereby declare Asari Raidan, and any who follow him, to be enemies of the Empire! Let it be known forthwith!”

She ended the broadcast, preferring to keep it simple. She’d done her due diligence, done what was required of her, what the people expected. But as she left her office and walked the long stretch of corridor leading back to the Bridge, guards accompanying her on either side, she smiled a dark smile.

 

***

 

Hunter Four dropped out of alteredspace as deeply as possible inside Thetican System. Blackmoth instructed the ship to accelerate to full thrust and then adjusted pitch and yaw accordingly until his altitude positioned him directly facing the bright orange star.

At maximum thrust, Hunter Four moved very quickly, halving the distance in a matter of seconds. “And so it begins even as it ends,” he said aloud, looking at the projected display showing the presence of hundreds of starships within the system, none of which was able to detect his presence. They were forming up innocently enough, the large cruisers recollecting their fighters before jumping from the system. None of them knew they were entirely out of time for such a thing.

He looked back at the star, which now filled the entirety of his forward window. The ship adjusted the view to prevent the star from blinding him with its awesome brilliance, so Blackmoth was able to take in its great orange majesty all at once, looking upon one of the greatest stars in the galaxy, one whose time was up. One which would make an excellent sacrifice to the One True God and gift to the void.

“The fourth destruction is upon us,” he said. “And it is my honor and glory to fulfill it. Blood for blood. Life for life. The galaxy shall be reaped even as this system.” Now the star so engulfed his view most of it could not be seen. “I surrender my soul to the void. Such is the will of the One True God.” Alarms began to sound as panels all over the cockpit lit up, warning of the ship’s inability to resist the intense heat it was experiencing.

“Now is the hour of Darkness! This penultimate destruction is the herald of the Dread Fleet! Bring them forth!” Entire systems of Hunter Four were beginning to fail. The hull integrity was quickly bucking as the armor swiftly melted away. “Let the Final Reckoning commence!”

With that, Blackmoth closed his eyes and raised his arms, delivering himself to the void.

 

 

(End of Book 5 of 7)

 

The story continues in The Phoenix Reckoning.

 

For more information, including a free audiobook download, please visit: www.richardlsanders.com