A Shifting Alliance (Galaxy Ascendant Book 3)

by Yakov Merkin

  “No, signal to the fleet not to pursue,” Darkclaw replied. “Focus on securing disabled enemy ships and prisoners.”

  Moments after the order was acknowledged and relayed, a transmission came in from the commander of the Alliance forces present, Admiral Verron Ceraz, a Cytan.

  “Why are we not pursuing?” He demanded, his internal glow brightening slightly. “We could have destroyed much of their retreating forces if we had done so!”

  “I disagree, Admiral. We would not have destroyed a significant amount of the remaining Revittan force, and may have forfeited the opportunity to secure the crippled ships that we are now taking possession of. Furthermore, I have reason to suspect that the larger Revittan force over the planet broke when the defenders near the moon did due to low morale and poor discipline. If that is the case, letting them go is likely to lead to some level of internal conflict within their command structure, and potentially further lower morale. If we hope to end this quickly, we need them as disorganized as possible.”

  After a long moment of silence, the admiral nodded. “Understood. We will begin preparing ground forces. What of the intact shipyards?”

  “Have all databases downloaded, any raw materials removed, and then destroy them.” Capturing such facilities would not be overly useful if this war went quickly, and if it did go on longer, it was not worth the risk of the enemy being able to reclaim and make use of the facilities.

  “Acknowledged,” the admiral said, then ended the transmission.

  Admiral Ceraz was far from the first Alliance officer to take an unfriendly approach to Darkclaw, and at this point, it was almost routine. Though whether the resentment was due to his role in the war, or simply that of a flag officer chafing at being under the command of another military’s commander, he could not say. Both sets of feelings were certainly understandable, and Darkclaw knew he would not like to be answering to the supreme commander of the Alliance forces. All that mattered for now, however, was that they were winning, and working together despite any lingering resentment. Such things could be hashed out once the war was over.

  Darkclaw looked out at the planet before him, one that would, Omnipresent willing, soon be fully under their control. The day of reckoning with the Revittan Empire was coming, and he was both anticipating and dreading learning just what had been behind their initial declaration of war. His mind again returned to the hollow world. There had to be a connection. The question was what it all meant.

  CHAPTER 15

  “New reports have just come in from the front line,” said Supreme Commander Carron, “more successes. Several Revittan shipyards destroyed, worlds captured, and fleets routed. High Executor Darkclaw and several other field commanders have expressed a belief that enemy morale and discipline is crumbling as the Empire’s losses mount. The question before us, therefore, is what we do now?”

  “Our initial offensive plan has gone better than expected,” added Legapratorem Vitarren Neviros a’Virakkus, the Talvostan military’s commander in chief. “Thanks to our faster mobilization time, arguably better forces and tactics, and our intelligence, much of which, I might add, we owe to Admiral Kharitzon’s agents, we are making incredible progress. The next phase of the plan, as it stands, calls for a more gradual but still quick thrust to the Empire’s core systems. However, given these recent developments, we may wish to consider upping our timetable and pushing toward the core while they’re still reeling.”

  “Any new, major offensive will take time to prepare,” cut in Toran ren Miran, a Darvian Legion Navy commodore, as he uncrossed his arms and moved to get a better view of the map. “Look at this,” he said, pointing at the blue glow that indicated Alliance-controlled space. “We are already pushing in farther than we are expanding our backline. If the enemy were to regain its footing, it would be too easy to exploit that to cut our supply lines, retake worlds, and disrupt our movements. Even if we do try and advance more quickly, we do need to take the time to at least ensure that we cannot be taken by surprise and routed.” He indicated several positions. “For instance, our Felinaris forces are our fastest, so we could station a fleet’s worth or two in holding positions from which they’d be able to quickly respond to surprise enemy raids, and we can station small groups of Snevan capital ships, along with some support craft, to defend small systems on their own.”

  For a moment, a flash of suspicion shot through Felivas’s mind. Could the Darvian, and the others, be trying to spread apart their former enemies for some nefarious purpose? Was he hoping that those areas could get attacked and lead to Felinaris or Snevan casualties?

  No, he decided after a moment. That was Nayasar’s borderline paranoia slipping in. It happened, every once in a while, when one of the “mainstream” Alliance leaders suggested something about the movements or placement of Felinaris, Snevan, or Tyrannodon forces. There would be no eliminating that completely, but at the same time, none of their former enemies would be able to completely eliminate their own distrust either. It was a strange situation, but everyone knew where they stood now, and what needed to be done.

  “I agree,” Felivas said. “As impressive as our successes have been thus far, we must not let it go to our heads. The Empire still outnumbers us, and has an impressive amount of resources at its disposal. The last thing we want to do is underestimate them now, and allow them to turn things around because of our own overconfidence. We all want this to be over soon; it was Grand Admiral Khariah who pushed hard to take the fight to the Revittans, but we cannot let that desire lead to poor tactical decisions.”

  “Either way, we will need time to mass forces for another major move while still mounting smaller raids,” said the supreme commander. “We should continue pressing forward at our current pace, and, once ready, we can decide how quickly we want to proceed. I propose we adjourn for a few hours, to allow time for us all to communicate with our forces and determine just how long we would need to be ready, then make a formal plan of action.”

  Felivas nodded in agreement, as did the other four attendees.

  “Let’s adjourn for, say, two hours, and meet up here again then,” said Supreme Commander Carron. After another round of nods, he departed the room at a brisk pace.

  “A moment of your time,” Felivas said to Legapratorem Vitarren as he tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Of course,” came the reply.

  Felivas glanced toward the door, where the last two officers were just exiting, then turned back to the Talvostan. “It’s strange, isn’t it, how quickly things have changed?”

  The Talvostan laughed, a hollow, echoey sound that always seemed a bit forced, as though the species had had to teach itself to do so in order to better interact with others. “You can say that. It reminds me of some first-hand accounts we read back in the academy, about the conflicts following my people’s own attempt to conquer the Galactic Alliance, and rapid transition afterward into a key part of it. It took decades for trust to fully build, though, so you all are making good time.”

  Felivas smiled, and nodded. “I suppose that is one way to look at it. I also wanted to formally thank you for your military’s contribution to the mission down on the hollow world. In all of the war activities that we’ve been engaged in since then, that got put on the backup drive.”

  Vitarren nodded. “It was a privilege to be able to help snuff out a major threat to our security. Prikeps—no, sorry—Primas-Prikeps Tiverias spoke very highly of everyone he fought alongside.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Felivas replied; both the sentiment and the news of Tiverias’s promotion were good to hear about. “I’ll have to thank him personally at some point.” He paused for a moment to glance over at the still active display. “You were fairly quiet during the meeting. What do you think about the status of the war, and the Alliance itself?”

  “To be honest, I always doubt things that seem to be going too well, if you understand my meaning. But the evidence so far is that this is genuinely going better than
our most optimistic projections. Thus, it follows that we should take advantage—while not overextending.”

  Felivas nodded. “And what are your feelings about the Alliance’s performance, from an internal standpoint? I do not hold this view, but there are some among my command staff that remain wary of the Alliance; old bitterness dies hard. If, and I suspect there is, mistrust directed at us as well, it could prove problematic. Even a slight issue in cohesion can give our much more united enemy a chance to get back into this war. We cannot fight the Revittans while also trying to move and countermove against potential vengeful actions by our current allies.”

  “I understand. For my part, I have only heard some minor mutterings, but that sort of thing is common. As far as the Union stands, the premier has made very clear his feelings toward you and your allies. We remain committed members of the Alliance, of course, but we—most of us, at least—also wish to maintain good relationships with every relevant faction on an individual basis.”

  There had been some wiggle room left in there, but overall positive. The Alliance would never try anything big if the Talvostans were not at least partially on board.

  “Thank you, that is reassuring to hear. Now, I should let you go and coordinate with your forces. And I’ve got to talk to my wife.”

  The legapratorem laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “In some ways, I envy your position, but in others I most certainly do not. We will talk more later.”

  Felivas smiled. “I manage,” he said, shook hands with the Talvostan, then followed him out of the meeting room.

  The near future was still a bit nebulous, but certainly looking brighter all the time. The only current concern he had was that he had not heard anything from his Nihlurans in several days. He would not allow himself to worry yet; there were certainly good reasons for going dark for a bit. Thus far, they had been very fortunate.

  Omnipresent willing, our luck will continue to hold.

  CHAPTER 16

  TR-14D easily kept pace with Minister Turon as the larger being stalked through the hallways of the grand imperial complex.

  “It’s ridiculous,” the minister muttered aloud, his mechanical-sounding voice echoing in the otherwise empty hallways. “It’s obvious what we need, a better, meaner commander before this war is hopelessly bungled, not more damn political picks. And we haven’t even managed to stamp out the rebels yet; why don’t we win any more?”

  “How problematic is the rebellion, from a practical standpoint?” TR-14D asked. That information was nearly as tightly controlled as the details surrounding the start of the war, and nearly as important.

  “Constant disruptions in outlying systems, which draws resources away from the war effort and securing our borders. We’re making progress, but not fast enough, and if it manages to spread while this war is still on, it will make things all that much tougher. We were not properly prepared for that, just as we were not properly prepared for this war!”

  TR-14D nodded, and followed his employer in silence, keeping careful watch all around, until they reached the conference room where four of the emperor’s own personal guards stood vigil.

  “Donath Turon, finance minister,” Turon said as he held out his personal identity chip.

  One of the guards took it, scanned it, then nodded. “You’re cleared for entry, sir,” he said, and the group stepped aside.

  As TR-14D moved to follow, however, the guards crossed their rifles, barring his entry. “This unit does not have security clearance,” the commander said.

  The minister spun around. “He is my personal assistant, and I require his presence. By law, he cannot record or reveal anything said inside here. By barring him, you attack my own credibility, sergeant.”

  The guard, face hidden by his helmet, was silent for a long moment, possibly consulting with superiors via internal communications, then nodded. “Very well, it can enter. My apologies, Minister.”

  “No offense taken, Sergeant,” the minister said, tone of voice changing completely. “You’re just doing your job, and I have nothing but respect for the men and women in our military and other public services. You may not get credit much of the time, but you’re the real heroes out here. By the way,” he went on, moving aside the soldier’s rifle, “we just acquired a company, small, but successful, that manufactures high-quality sights and modified barrels as a first foray into military hardware. Amazing quality, worth checking out, and active duty servicemen get a nice discount.”

  “Sir, the meeting,” TR-14D interrupted. Every so often, the minister went on long tangents relating to one of several topics, most often relating to his many businesses. Both in the interest of their time, and that of the soldier, it had to be cut short.

  “Yes, of course,” the minister said before nodding to the soldier and walking into the conference room along with TR-14D.

  The group at this meeting, all of whom were already present, was smaller than that of the previous one, with none of the military representatives present, and Deputy Thaeras was absent as well, though the rest of the high council was in attendance. Thus it was clear immediately what the focus of this meeting was going to be.

  “Ah, Minister Turon, glad you decided to finally join us,” said Mattir Mikaren, the minister of infrastructure.

  “I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” Minister Turon replied sharply.

  “Let’s just get things started,” interjected Kieal Terras, one of the emperor’s advisers. “However, I would like to know just why you insist on bringing your assistant everywhere, Minister. It is unusual.”

  “Time management,” the minister replied immediately. “He’s practically a walking computer, which allows me to work while en route and can keep track of things for me during meetings. These are the kind of things you learn when you run very successful businesses. Just in the last quarter alone, we made tremendous profits, and of course paid far too much in taxes, but that’s a whole separate issue—”

  “Can we please transition to the actual reason we are here?” Oversector Lord Vethmar interrupted.

  “Of course,” said Terras. “As you likely surmised based on who is not present, we have to determine now what to do about this war.”

  “It’s nice that were finally deciding to do something about it now,” said Oversector Lord Valat as he crossed his arms. “My sector is practically overrun by the invaders, and our much-vaunted fleet is in disarray. I would not be surprised if at the next engagement the navy breaks and flees at the mere sight of the invaders.”

  “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” Minister Turon cut in, “it’s the establishment politics that have run this Empire for the last two decades. You have career politicians who care more about their own status and power than the Empire itself. True public servants like IRSS Director Revval are the rare exception. What qualified the current grand admiral for her position? The right friends? Favors she gave others?” He raised his hands. “I’m not accusing anyone of anything here, and I have only the highest regard for our female service members, but it’s clear that she cannot get the job done. I think we all know the one who can, the only one who can.”

  “You’re talking about Sai’var, aren’t you?” The agriculture minister replied with a sigh. “He’s talented, certainly, but he’s not Revittan. Giving him full control of our navy… that will not be a popular move. And if, theoretically, we do appoint him, and he manages to win, what will that say about our own military minds?”

  Minister Turon pounded his metal-encased hand on the table. “This is what I mean! This type of thinking is what has landed us in this situation, and why you need a true outsider like me. As you may know, I’ve run many very successful businesses over the course of my life.”

  TR-14D could immediately see the eyes of several of the officials start to glaze over or roll as they steeled themselves for one of Minister Turon’s well-known and often parodied rants.

  “The key to much of that success, when you get down to it, is flexibilit
y, always being in motion, moving with the flow of things—something the now defunct Noalii Guardians understood as well, I might add.” There was at least one rapid intake of breath audible to TR-14D’s audioreceptors. Mentioning the traitorous Noalii was expressly frowned upon. Although, if the Empire would lie about the war, what did that say about the official statements from that sad story?

  “You don’t necessarily ‘owe’ any employee anything. If your true goal is success, you make as many changes as you need, as often as you need to, in order to get the best results. Beyond that, of course, you need to diversify your holdings and markets, as I did when I started the Turon fashion line, of mostly fancy dresswear accessories. You know, just a small little venture, but it went really well, and now you can get them at many establishments. You look at them, you think they must be by Virite’s or Nar Vadan, but no, they’re just this little line done in cooperation with the Tivarri chain. For another example—”

  “Could you please make your main point?” Asked Leras Hiran, another one of the emperor’s advisers, pain in her voice.

  “I was getting there. Now, of course, Revittans are the one who ought to be in charge, our culture is the best. But constantly, intentionally putting down other species is showing itself to be more of a hindrance. Why do you think they are disproportionately involved with the rebels? In my businesses, I choose the best person for the job, that’s it. It’s why I get along so well with everyone, and even my rivals respect me. By his record, Admiral Sai’var is the best we have. So promote him to grand admiral, call him to the front. We can worry about the image of the Empire—or perhaps, the image of its ruling class—after we save it. What other options are there?”

  “Well, there is Project Final Awakening—” began the infrastructure minister before the IRSS officer present—the director was on leave—cut him off.