Chapter 15

  “Cap’n on the bridge,” said Miles. “What’s up, chief?”

  “I’ve been reviewing the details of the engagement between the Phoenix and those Rotham freighters,” said Calvin. “And I’ve found something interesting.”

  “What is it?” asked Shen; they all looked curious.

  “First let me ask you. If Raidan was willing to give up everything, including his life, to destroy those ships, what does that imply?”

  “That he hates Rotham and possibly wanted to start a war,” said Summers.

  Calvin shook his head. “No, that’s too simple and isn’t consistent with his past behaviors. Any other ideas?”

  “That the ships were carrying important cargo that he needed destroyed,” said Sarah.

  “Exactly.”

  “But we know what they were carrying,” said Shen, now reading the report. “The Ortahn had 18,000 crates of alcohol. The Guinn had a cargo of predominantly exotic spices, salts, and preservatives weighing in at approximately eighty thousand kilograms. The Qiun’ha had a cache of nine hundred personal computers and seven thousand type C power cells. And the Ursa, which escaped, carried two million liters of purified water. Net worth of the combined cargo losses is registered as just over 2.5 million Q. A lot of money.”

  “But not a lot for four freighters’ worth of cargo,” said Summers.

  “What if it’s a lie? What if the ships carried something else, perhaps smuggling something illegal? We’d never know.”

  “That’s a bold indictment.” Summers frowned.

  “Is it?” asked Calvin. “Then maybe you can explain why the Ursa ran back to Rotham space rather than docking at a closer outpost for repairs? There were three Imperial stations on the way to N-175, but the ship ignored all of them. Why?”

  “Obviously they didn’t trust us after being assaulted by one of our attack cruisers,” said Summers.

  “Maybe,” admitted Calvin. “Or maybe they were hiding something. Something Raidan found out about and tried to stop.”

  “If they had any secret cargo, then how did Raidan find out about it? And why would he destroy it—keeping his motives secret—rather than report it? Why not try to board the ships and seize the cargo?”

  Calvin wasn’t sure.

  Summers continued, “And what kind of cargo could be such a threat? Something he’d throw his life away to destroy? Probably not narcotics.”

  “Slaves?” asked Sarah.

  “Weapons, perhaps,” said Calvin.

  “It could be information,” suggested Shen. “Either on hard drives or in the minds of some VIP passengers.”

  “In any case this is all pointless speculation,” said Summers. “And doesn’t further our goal—which is to find Raidan.”

  “It’s not pointless speculation. There is more evidence for my theory,” said Calvin.

  “Tell us what you found,” said Miles.

  “Anyone else wonder how an attack cruiser like the Phoenix got as damaged as it did fighting nothing but freighters?”

  Silence.

  “The civilian convoy had military-grade armaments and shielding, heavy armor, and professional pilots,” he said.

  His crew looked as surprised as they were curious.

  “Really?” asked Sarah.

  Calvin looked at Summers. “You were there. Tell them. Those were not ordinary freighters you engaged.”

  Summers looked embarrassed. “I was ordered elsewhere at the time and wasn’t on the bridge.”

  “How could you know they were upgraded, aside from seeing the damage they inflicted on the Phoenix?” asked Shen.

  “The report the Ursa crew submitted after the engagement, the one that incriminated the Phoenix, included some video from the action. Details are sketchy but not too hard to put together. Shen, pull up ‘Beotan A-2’ on the display and play the footage.”

  He complied and five ships appeared on the projector. Four freighters and a sleek-looking attack cruiser which closed in and exchanged fire.

  “Stop,” said Calvin. The image froze in place, and he walked closer to it, where he could point with his hands. “See the position the ships are in?”

  “Doesn’t strike me as unusual,” said Shen.

  “The ships haven’t broken formation. Usually when civilian pilots are attacked, they break off individually and route in all directions. But there is no panic. They’re trying to escape as a unit, discipline intact.”

  “Maybe they’re just experienced,” said Summers.

  “Think so?” Calvin resumed the display and paused it a few seconds later. “Now look.”

  “I don’t see anything interesting,” said Summers.

  “I do,” said Sarah. “That’s a kilo-six evasive pattern.”

  “Right,” said Calvin. “A complex evasive maneuver that the Rotham used several times during the Great War.”

  “Maybe they learned how to do it on their own,” said Summers.

  “Sarah, in your opinion, could someone learn how to do that on their own?” asked Calvin.

  She shook her head. “Takes years of military training to learn something like that. And those kinds of ships shouldn’t even have the maneuverability to execute it.”

  “Yet they did,” said Calvin. “They all did. Which brings me to my next point. They had not just military pilots but improved thrusters and engines. And look at this.” He played another segment which showed the Phoenix firing a barrage of rockets at a ship, eventually destroying it. But what stood out—after careful scrutiny—was that the projectiles were being intercepted by a point deflector system. A countermeasure that was so expensive to install that even most Imperial warships didn’t have one, including the Nighthawk.

  “Amazing,” said Miles. “No way some corporation could have outfitted their cargo carriers with point deflectors!”

  “And that’s not all,” Calvin said, resuming the clip once more. The Phoenix cut in close and opened up a full broadside—its mounted M-90s eventually shredded the freighter’s hull but not nearly as quickly as they should have.

  “That’s some solid armor plating,” said Miles.

  “Yes,” said Calvin. “Clearly someone spent a lot of money upgrading those ships. Probably to protect whatever they were carrying. Raidan was not the only one who thought the cargo was important.”

  “So why were the ships destroyed, if someone went to all that trouble to protect them?” asked Shen.

  “Even with all those defenses, those kinds of ships are still large with several hull weaknesses and systems vulnerabilities,” said Calvin. “The Phoenix is an attack cruiser—more than capable of destroying a convoy even tougher than this one. But what is interesting”—Calvin paused—”is that the Ursa still managed to escape. Based on its escape velocity and trajectory, relative to the pursuing Phoenix, it never should have made it out of the system with standard engines. But it did clear enough distance to jump and made the alteredspace calculation in practically no time. Achieving a depth of 88 percent potential within three minutes. Now I dare you to find any standard freighter that can do that.”

  “How do you know someone didn’t doctor this footage?” asked Summers.

  “I’ve had the computer analyze it for any signs of tampering and haven’t found anything. The data agrees with what the Phoenix’s computer recorded.”

  “Okay,” said Shen. “I think we’ve established the ships were upgraded, but where does that leave us?”

  “We need to find out who upgraded them and why.” Calvin smiled. “Shen, I want you investigate what corporation sponsored this convoy, who owns the ships, who pilots them, find out everything you can. Since they were heading to Capital World, that means humans purchased their cargo. If the shipment was something sinister, some humans must be in on it. Find out who they are.”

  “Consider it done.” Shen set to work.

  “As for you, Miles,” said Calvin.

  His defense officer turned his chair to reveal a disappointed look. He w
as as good an investigator as the others but hated doing it.

  “Look into Tristan. Search every database for his name and check with any Rotham Police records that are available, specifically on Aros Five. Tristan told me that he had issues with the law there, probably a lie but maybe not. I want to know who he is and where he came from. As part of that, look into the proliferation of Remorii from Remus. That system is shut down and nearly impossible to enter or exit. I want to know how he, and everyone like him, got out into the galaxy. That shouldn’t have been easy.”

  “Why?” asked Miles.

  “Because it’s surrounded by a huge minefield,” said Sarah.

  “No, I mean, why do I have to do it?” said Miles, giving Calvin a wounded look. Then he grinned. “Just kidding. I’ll get on it ASAP.”

  “Good,” said Calvin. “And there is one more thing. I’ve been looking into the time logs, trying to make a chronology of all the events, and there is something that just doesn’t add up to me. The Harbinger left Praxis at approximately 1010 hours Standard Time and made for Aleator. It detected interceptors from the Fifth Fleet and changed course to outmaneuver them. Something like that might add another three hours depending on how far it had to move, maybe even as many as five. But the Harbinger arrived at Aleator eight hours later than expected. That leaves between three and five hours unaccounted for. The question is, what could it have been doing?”

  “Repairs?” suggested Sarah.

  “Putting down a mutiny.” Miles shrugged.

  “Docking at a station,” said Summers.

  “Meeting up with another ship,” said Shen.

  Calvin shrugged. “I don’t know. My working theory is that Raidan went to Aleator to meet with someone. Perhaps Raidan had to conform to that person’s schedule. Maybe they’d prearranged for the Harbinger to get there at a designated time.”

  “Could be,” said Shen.

  “Sarah, we know the ship’s speed, general position, and the window of time they had. We should make a range of possible places the Harbinger could have been. Try to narrow that down and see if there are any systems, bases, or structures within its reach. If you don’t find anything like that, check the shipping records and see if any vessels had a charted route through that region and could have passed the Harbinger.”

  “Will do,” she said. “But what if it met up with an unchartered ship?”

  “Then there’s nothing we can do about that.”

  “So what are you going to do?” asked Summers.

  “I’m going to look into CERKO.”

  Just then the comm started flashing, and Sarah heard something through her headset. She turned to Calvin. “Priority message from Intel Wing. They have some results of a query you made. Something about what it takes to destroy a star.”

  “I’ll take it here. Put it on display,” he said and sat down in the command chair.

  A prerecorded message of a man talking directly to the camera popped up. He had a professorial look about him: receding hairline, neat beard, glasses, and graying hair. “Message start. To Lieutenant Commander Calvin Cross. I read your request for information on what it would take to destroy a star, specifically TR-301. That’s a pretty strange request but an interesting question. TR was a class-three star and, after reviewing the information your sensors picked up about its collapse, it’s not unlike other star collapses that happen every so often. What usually occurs is a change in mass. You could think of it as … all of the star’s energy sources being exhausted. I’ll send you over more specific notes on this, but let me just say that collapsing a star artificially is not within the practical limits of known technology.

  “However, there is a theoretical way this could be done. A star could be compressed using magnetic fields. Ships of high magnetism could orbit the star opposite its polarity and spin, but such a process might take a million years—if it worked at all. It’s never been tested. Intel Wing’s opinion is that TR-301 collapsed of natural causes, despite its relatively young age and seemingly healthy ratio of hydrogen to helium. End message.”

  The screen blinked off.

  “You heard the man,” said Miles. “Nothing suspicious.”

  “Magnetic ships …” Calvin stared at the blank display, as if seeing beyond it. “I wonder if that’s possible.” For some reason, even in the face of good scientific reasoning, he couldn’t get past his nagging suspicion that the star’s destruction had not been a random event. He decided to look into it a bit more anyway when he had the chance. If nothing else, to put the issue to rest in his mind. “Shen, launch one of our probes to do a deep search of the region. Maybe a volume of two cubic kliks.”

  “You’re chasing after ghosts, Cal,” said Shen. “But I’ll do it.”

  “Maybe …” said Calvin, deep in thought. “Make sure it gets a good look at any stellar formations in that region.”

  “That’s a pretty wide volume,” said Shen. “But the probe should be programmed and ready to launch within the hour. Although it’ll take some time to get there.”

  “That’s fine. Just make sure it doesn’t stray too close to the black hole, if there is one now.”

  Shen smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “There’s just one other thing,” said Calvin, and he tapped his direct line to the major’s office at Special Forces HQ. “Major,” he said.

  “I’m here.” The man’s gravelly voice replied through the comm.

  “Even though the lycan isn’t on our ship anymore, I’m still concerned about his escape from the brig and what happened to your two men who were guarding him. I asked them several questions, but neither seemed to remember anything important. And let’s not forget the swapped surveillance tape. I need you to get to the bottom of this.”

 
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