The Phoenix Rising by Richard L. Sanders Page A

one...” said
Sarah.
    The view of stars vanished into pure
darkness. They were on their way to the DMZ.
    “ We are now in
alteredspace.”
    “ ETA?” asked
Calvin.
    “ Just over fifty-three hours
until we cross into the DMZ...” said Sarah. “And commit an act of
war.”
    Fifty-three hours... Calvin took a deep
breath and relaxed, thinking that was plenty of time to squeeze
more information out of Tristan and figure out their next move.
Special Forces and the Polarian Division would have to begin drills
so they could breach the Arcane Storm when the time came. Calvin
decided the best thing he could do now was get to know the new
crew. Making sure they assimilated properly fell under the duties
of the XO, but Calvin was happy to help if he could.
    “ Calvin,” said Miles, in an
unusually serious tone. “If we’re doing this, if we’re really going
into the DMZ, I should have weapons hot when we go in, and the new
crew needs to be put through battle drills.”
    “ I’m not expecting a fight,
Miles.”
    “ The latest reports on the
DMZ list raiding and piracy as extremely rampant. If anyone sees
us, they will most likely try to capture the ship. And I’m not going through that
again.”
    Calvin would never forget what it had been
like to surrender his vessel to the Rotham squadron. The torture
and cruelty they’d faced at the hands of the Rotham back in Abia
had cost them many lives and left scars on the survivors that would
never completely heal. “Point well taken, Miles. You may organize
and execute three battle simulations for each shift. Make sure
everyone is tested and ready for what we might find when we get
there. But we won’t be going in hot. Armed weapons will compromise
our stealth.”
    “ Good enough for me,” said
Miles. “Though I would feel better with at least some of the
weapons armed.”
    “ I’ve been in the DMZ
before,” said Calvin. “Not recently, that’s true—but I know it’s a
big place, and we’ll be better off if we avoid being
seen.”
    “ If you say so. Doesn’t
sound like much fun to me,” Miles shot him a grin, telling him the
backtalk at this point was meant as jest not insubordination.
Calvin half expected Summers to begin deriding Miles for his
unprofessionalism, but then he remembered she was below helping to
situate the new crew.
    “ Your sense of fun is really
unique, Miles,” said Sarah. “Most people wouldn’t equate violence
with fun.”
    “ Yeah, yeah, just cause you
don’t know how to have a good time.”
    “ Your idea of a good time
usually ends with the luxurious accommodations of a debtor’s
detention cell,” she fired back.
    “ Hey! That only happened one
time!”
    Most COs wouldn’t tolerate the chatter,
Calvin knew, and allowing it went against all of his professional
training. But he liked the relaxed atmosphere. And believed that
his officers worked best in a liberal environment where they didn’t
have to worry if their uniforms weren’t pressed well-enough. It was
his command style, always had been, and now that he was a commander
in exile, he felt even less restrained.
    “ Carry on,” said Calvin.
“I’ll be below, seeing to the new crew.”
    “ Calvin not on the bridge
during his shift? Big surprise there,” said Miles.
    “ Sarah, you have the
deck.”
    Tristan cleared his throat. “I should have
the deck,” he said, pointing to the gold bar on his uniform—the
insignia of a commander.
    Calvin almost laughed. “Yeah, that’s not
happening.” He wondered whose uniform Tristan had stolen.
    “ As a point of fact,
Lieutenant Commander,” said Tristan, addressing Calvin with his
technical rank and not his position, “I outrank everyone on this
ship except for Commander Presley. I, at minimum, should be
instated as your second officer, since this ship doesn’t have one.”
It was true; Calvin hadn’t promoted anyone to the position since
Vincent Rose’s death.
    “ I don’t know where you got
that uniform, Remorii ,