The Phoenix Conspiracy

Chapter 7

  His room was cluttered with boxes, the same ones he’d delayed unpacking back on Praxis. But while his procrastination had paid off there, he had no reason to delay unpacking them now. Except for pure, simple laziness. Which was good enough for Calvin. He shifted the boxes out of his way and took a seat on his bed, resting his head in his hands.

  “What am I gonna do?”

  A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. He was one of the Empire’s star investigators—the youngest, brightest CO in Intel Wing. Second only to the legendary Lafayette Nimoux. But aside from him, Calvin’s success got the most attention within Intel Wing circles. And some people, Calvin was sure, saw him as a real contender for the unofficial role of best operative. After all, his latest work had won him another gleaming Silver Star, command of a phantom-class stealth warship, and—best of all—the chance to handpick most of his primary crew. But all of those honors came with certain expectations … He had to deliver. That meant making sense of this Raidan situation. No matter how confusing it seemed.

  Why had Raidan gone rogue in the first place? It didn’t fit his background at all. He was a distinguished fighting captain with decades of loyal service. Why did he give it all up just to attack a handful of alien ships? How could he possibly benefit?

  And then there was the matter of his miraculous escape. Evading custody was one thing, but to also steal a first-rate dreadnought in the process was unheard of. The Harbinger had a crew of nearly a thousand men and women. No way Raidan could have charmed them all over to his side with clever words and a winning personality. Nor was it likely Raidan could have taken the ship by force. It would entail a veritable army to storm and capture such a vessel. Where would the forces have come from? Where would they have been hidden? And how would Raidan have anticipated needing to capture the Harbinger early enough to make the preparations? Unless it hadn’t been Raidan at all … perhaps someone who wanted to liberate Raidan or maybe even take him captive for some other purpose.

  The simplest explanation was that the Harbinger’s crew was sympathetic to Raidan and that they’d planned to rescue him all along. However, the odds were not good that so many people in one place just happened to take Raidan’s side by coincidence. More likely, people had joined the ship, officially or discreetly, after it had become clear the trial was taking place on Praxis One.

  According to reports, a third of the Harbinger’s crew changed at Praxis One, which was neither uncommon nor enough people to guarantee a swift capture of the ship. Especially since, ostensibly, the newcomers were mostly technicians and engineers rather than marines and Special Forces. Not men and women trained in close-quarter battle. Nor could Calvin find any significant connections between the new crew. Some were related to each other, however distantly; others came from the same schools, that sort of thing, but ultimately there wasn’t much to implicate they were working together on any kind of grand scale.

  So far the files Intel Wing had sent him hadn’t proven very useful. Mostly just boring. But if there was even a shred of a clue buried somewhere inside them, Calvin was determined to find it. Because he had to know how Raidan and whoever else had managed to steal a ship like the Harbinger, and make it and all hands aboard vanish with hardly a trace.

  As Calvin continued reviewing the information available and chewing the facts over repeatedly in his mind, like a bad piece of steak, something else stood out to him. The Fifth Fleet seemed unnaturally interested in the Harbinger situation. True, it had been one of their ships that’d gone missing, and, yes, it’d happened on their watch in their space. But none of that explained why the Fifth Fleet seemed so bent on being the ones to recapture Raidan rather than opening up the operation more widely for other fleets and Intel Wing to assist. Intel Wing had resources and training designed to deal with this kind of op. Why did the Fifth Fleet want to keep them pinned to as minimal a role as possible? Perhaps to recover some of the dignity lost by having a condemned prisoner steal one of their dreadnoughts? But Calvin doubted it was that simple.

  He found it difficult to concentrate with Summers Presley aboard. She was attractive and stimulating, but, more important, she was someone hovering over his shoulder. Second-guessing his every move. He’d never had to play defense on his own ship before. And since her eyes were the fleet’s eyes, he would have to tread extra lightly. If only he still had Anand …

  He paced his room feeling restless as his mind spun circles, trying to make all the pieces fit together. He spent the better part of the next hour guessing at possible explanations for Raidan’s actions, his escape, and what his next move might be. For now Calvin chose to assume either Raidan had command of the Harbinger or that whoever did have command was acting in line with Raidan’s own interests.

  So then, what would interest Raidan that was in Aleator? It was a system on the edge of the Empire, outside the jurisdiction of all major powers and governments. A haven for thieves, cutthroats, pirates, criminals, mercenaries, and swarms of people trying to make a quick fortune. Aleator was under no one’s control, except the Roscos, a family of criminals Calvin knew all too well. Too much of his own family history was tied up with the Roscos. And, because of that, Aleator was one of the last places in the galaxy Calvin planned to visit. But if that was where the Harbinger was going, then Calvin had to go too. But he didn’t have to like it.

  Eventually he found himself unlocking his safe and withdrawing the bottle of equarius. As he did, he told himself he wasn’t going to take any; he was just going to hold it and look at it and think about it. Deeper inside he knew better but chose to ignore the voice of warning … which was more of a whisper anyway.

  He sat back down after grabbing a bottle of water, then snapped a pill in half and downed it, knowing the effects wouldn’t be felt for about twenty minutes. Until then he tried to empty his mind by imagining the void of open space all around.