A Shifting Alliance (Galaxy Ascendant Book 3)

by Yakov Merkin

  It was strange, in a way, that the organics simply assumed that all Gurshen were loyal to the Empire first. While they were loyal, their first priority, as with all species, he imagined, was to each other. The Collective would outlive the Empire not through open warfare, not unless absolutely required. They would survive through passive observation, and subtle, secret machinations that organics could not defend against—at least, if a course of action could be conclusively determined.

  And if TR-14D’s connection to the minister could be used to aid their objectives, so much the better.

  CHAPTER 31

  “I do not expect to spend a great deal of time here in the near future, due to the state of the war,” Darkclaw began as he stood before the eight members of the newly appointed Tyrannodon Civilian Council. “As such, I will leave all local affairs under your authority. Anything involving military personnel or equipment, however, must be approved by either Executor Shadowpath, Executor Keeneye, or myself. For the time being, at least, the Custoratis and Custorellatus will remain completely autonomous as far as their own affairs are concerned, with our involvement limited to construction and other work required for expanding the current settlements. I would, however, like for regular contact to be maintained with them, as our people will be sharing this world. Is that clear?”

  “It is, High Executor,” replied Tavyr, the Tyrannodon chosen to head the council. They were all non-clone Tyrannodons, which might become an issue in the future when they had to determine how to integrate the thousands upon thousands of clones into society, though for the moment, with war still being waged, that was not an issue.

  “Excellent. I will, of course, be reachable should any questions arise, though depending on the state of the war, responses might not be the most timely. I have no doubt that this council will prove more than able to govern here for the time being.”

  The council members affirmed the latter, and Darkclaw left the room. There was more to do before he could depart.

  ###

  “If any issues arise with the council, do not hesitate to contact me,” Darkclaw said to the kings of the Custoratis and Custorellatus. “I wish to deal with any issues that arise immediately, before they so much as have the opportunity to metastasize into something major.”

  “Of course, Heir of the Creators,” said King Veilan of the Custoratis, as the Custorellatus king nodded.

  “I do have one more thing I wanted to ask before I depart,” Darkclaw said as they continued to walk around the perimeter of the joint Custoratis/Custorellatus settlement. “I need to know if you remember anything from the time during which the fallen Scions had control,” he said to the King Shahan. “I believe that something related to them and that time is still influencing things in the Galaxy, and if I am to stop it, I need every particle of information I can find.”

  “Those months are hazy in my mind,” the king replied. “All I can remember, aside from brief images of action I took, are some things they said very often, about serving a ‘Great Lord,’ and that they planned to, somehow, ‘bring him into this realm, and set the galaxy ablaze,’ but I do not know what exactly they meant by all of it.”

  Darkclaw nodded. It was not truly sold evidence, of course, but it confirmed his suspicions that the corrupted Scions had had something to do with the start of this war, and he would bet anything that the creature that had escaped was somewhere within the Empire’s territory.

  An idea began to form in Darkclaw’s mind, one that many would consider crazy, and that would certainly make the challenges ahead all the more difficult. If the Alliance’s enemies had been behind the start of this war, then they had most likely gotten some hold on its leadership. Thus, the only way to learn what he truly needed to know, would be for Darkclaw to speak with those leaders directly, and that necessitated a capture operation. Convincing the Alliance of that need would not be simple, but Darkclaw believed he could get through to them.

  He bade farewell to Shahan and returned to his shuttle, where he reviewed several new reports; plans on the major offensive—which he might now need to change—were coming along nicely, and, in another piece of good news, he saw that the Hudecar was expected to be battle-ready in just over a month.

  As the shuttle lifted off and began to head up to the Sarcendar, Darkclaw observed the soldiers serving as his bodyguards, who were conversing quietly. If there was anything positive to have come from this war, it was that the lethargy that had gripped many of his people had all-but evaporated. Even Executor Keeneye, for all his dislike of the war, had admitted that he felt better now. It would be important, in the near future, to both figure out how to prevent something like that from happening in the future, while also understanding exactly what had caused it in the first place. He had to balance what was right with what was best for his people’s mental health.

  A challenge for the future, however. Now, in addition to preparing for the most challenging campaign of his life, he had to convince his allies to add a new objective that would make it far more difficult. Omnipresent willing, he would succeed.

  CHAPTER 32

  “Are they really just going to give us permission to land?” asked Ayil, one of the Alliance Nihlurans. It was lucky that Corras was so adept at recognizing faces, or else telling Ayil apart from her twin sister would have been a frustrating exercise.

  Corras laughed. “And here I thought you knew who I was. Rank and station matter more than anything else in the Empire. While it might seem somewhat odd for me to arrive in a ship like this, they will automatically take anything I say very seriously. And don’t you worry, I have had a lot of practice at lying over the years.”

  “That I do not doubt,” Ayil replied as she spun her chair around; the ship was on autopilot while in hyperspace. “In our… line of work,” she continued as she crossed her legs, “we had to do quite a bit of clever talking to get by. But this is different.” She leaned forward suggestively. “Brazen. Fun in one sense, but risky, very risky.”

  Corras smiled thinly. Despite being well aware of the ways of Nihlurans, and being completely loyal to his wife of many years, it did take some considerable effort to resist even the unconscious advances Nihlurans put forward. While it had been rare, on occasion during his career he had used Nihluran women as a means to entrap or otherwise get close to a target, and they had never failed to convince those targets to join them in bed, no matter how paranoid they were; pheromones were quite hard to resist, for most people. If the Empire had treated its aliens better, the IRSS with actual full-time Nihlurans could have been even more effective.

  “And because it is so brazen, the simple soldiers monitoring entry will not think that I, head of the IRSS, am pulling a trick. You would be surprised how much people will accept if they are told that a top-secret mission requires it, especially those stationed on a small, relatively unimportant base like this one. No one wants to get on my former organization’s bad side. It has historically been… bad for their health.”

  “You people are all crazy,” Ayil said as she leaned back in the chair.

  “Based on what I’ve read, something similar could be said about your Galactic Alliance. With your most recent war, that makes two times it has invited a very recent enemy that tried to take it over to join up.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Ayil replied. “The Alliance is an absolute mess that meddles in too many things.”

  “Then why are you here, working on its behalf?” It had been clear from the outset that they were not professional spies, and based on his own observations, they were the type that would never risk their own safety for others, not even if the pay was ludicrously high.

  “Now that,” said Liya, the quieter of the two sisters, “is a story. It began when we were hired to help a Scion track some dangerous people down. We liked him, and so agreed to stay on past our original commitment—for pay, of course. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were flying into Revittan space.”

  “I have
heard of these Scions.” Corras said after a quick glance at the display panels. “They sound like they fill a somewhat similar role to that of the now extinct Noalii Guardians. Though your Scions seem more closely linked to the government than the Noalii were.”

  “I have never heard or seen anything about a group like that,” Ayil said.

  “Once they were wiped out almost twenty years ago, all records of them were purged, and everyone was strongly encouraged to forget about them. It worked.”

  “You were active at that time?”

  “I was, but at a far lower rank. Back then, I just wanted to follow orders and advance my rank and career. Looking back, however, that incident was the first time I ever doubted the integrity of the Empire. It has changed since my youth, and not for the better. That’s why I’m willing to take these risks. It must be restored to what it once was, and that will only be possible through the overthrow of the current leadership.”

  “It must be hard for your family,” Liya said.

  Corras nodded, as memories of his last days with them all came to mind. “I’m not sure if it’s harder for them or for me. I just worry that we may never see each other again. But I cannot change my course now; I would not be able to live with myself.”

  “A few months ago I think I would have mocked that,” Ayil said, “but now… I understand that feeling all too well. If we were smart, we would not be here at all.”

  “Some are smarter than others,” Liya quipped just before a chime sounded, indicating that they were approaching their destination.

  Corras started to rise, but Liya stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Stay here, I will alert the others,” she said with a smile, then headed deeper into the ship.

  He really shouldn’t stare, Corras new, but with Nihlurans it was hard not to, especially with these and their distinctly alien—but still plenty alluring—features.

  Fortunately, they came out of hyperspace before long, and Corras’s focus shifted completely to the mission at hand, his hands tightening on the control handles.

  “Make sure you are not seen when I contact the base,” he said. “And, stay as ready as you can, while moving like we are not at all concerned. If things do go badly, we may need to flee in a hurry.”

  Ayil nodded, and even when Dran re-entered the cockpit, she remained at the controls.

  Corras remained quiet as he counted down to when he expected the base to challenge them. A few minutes later, the sensors detected a group of four fighters approaching.

  “They are hailing us,” Ayil said.

  “Put then on,” Corras said as he took a moment to prepare himself, and to ensure that only he would be visible.

  The image of a fighter pilot, face hidden behind his flight helmet, appeared on the small screen. “Unidentified craft,” he said, voice distorted by the suit, “state your business in this system, and prepare for an inspection.”

  “Be mindful of who you are speaking with, pilot,” Corras snapped. “I am Director Corras Revval of the IRSS. On that authority, you are to prepare a landing platform for my ship and provide me with a shuttle for my personal use. I am transmitting the necessary codes.”

  “I… acknowledged, Director,” the pilot replied a few moments later. “Landing instructions will be transmitted from the ground. Apologies for the hostility.”

  “None needed,” Corras replied. “You are doing exactly as you should be. The rebels have been quite active lately, and safe as this base may be, we must be cautious. That is why I am here, to ensure that the rebel threat is ended forever.”

  “Of course, sir. Good hunting.”

  Corras let himself relax slightly once the channel was closed. “So far, so good.”

  “That seemed to come very naturally,” Dran remarked.

  Corras smirked. “Well, I have had quite a bit of practice, and until recently that’s what I would’ve said naturally regardless. But this was the easy part. Once we’re down on the surface, that’s where we face the real danger.”

  “What, are you worried they already suspect something?” Ayil asked.

  “It really depends,” Corras replied. If it was only normal soldiers down there, he’d probably be in and out without so much as word. If there were IRSS people down there, especially if they were ones familiar to him, things could get complicated fast. “One of you go make sure my team is ready.”

  Liya rose, and headed back to the passenger area, and Corras stared out at the approaching planet in from of them. This would not be the first time he’d face Imperial personnel since his defection, but the only time he would have to speak with them, and act like nothing was out of the ordinary. It shouldn’t worry him, but that was the thing about being a traitor—you never truly felt safe.

  ###

  “Remember, do not speak unless you absolutely must. I did whatever possible with limited resources to ensure that your credentials will pass any standard inspections, but the wrong word can mark you as an impostor as easily as a lack of proper identification. Is that clear?”

  The four Revittan rebels, wearing stolen Imperial trooper gear, nodded. When he had selected the men who would play his escorts, Corras had had the option of taking Imperial defectors—there were a fair number of them in the rebellion—but the advantage they had by knowing how to act as a soldier was undermined by the risk their presence posed. Even if their faces had not been publicized as the Empire had hunted them, it was all too possible that someone might recognize them from past service. So non-soldiers it had been, despite the different risks that brought with it.

  Corras steadied himself on the side of the ship as it settled on to the landing pad, and smoothed out his uniform. Whatever happened, he would always feel most comfortable in it, and, however it happened, he would die in it, as was only fitting.

  Then the boarding ramp opened, and the bright sunlight streamed in. Here it goes.

  “Director Revval,” said the sentry standing at the edge of the landing platform as he saluted.

  Corras returned the salute, and stopped opposite the trooper. “I presume my request was relayed.”

  The trooper nodded. “I’ll just need you to wait a moment as your authorization is approved. Would’ve made things a lot easier if you’d let us know in advance.” He grinned.

  Corras couldn’t help but return the smile. “I wouldn’t be much of a spymaster if I told everyone where I was going all of the time, now would I?”

  “Point taken.” The trooper glanced at the datapad that rested on a stand next to the guard position. “Ah, there we go. You’re cleared for entry, sir, along with your escorts. Major Telethin will see you in his office about your request.” The young trooper pointed toward one of the base’s larger buildings. “It’s that building, and his office is the only one on the second floor.”

  “Thank you,” Corras replied, then led the way into the base itself.

  It was fairly quiet, as were most small bases like it, with only a few personnel moving about, but Corras kept his eyes moving about, just to be safe, and sent a quick text message back to the River Lark, reminding the Nihlurans and other rebel personnel still there to remain quiet, but alert. If things went bad, they would go bad very quickly.

  Corras led his group into the building, nodded at a pair of troopers who were heading past them, and made his way up to the office.

  “Come in,” Major Telethin said after Corras knocked.

  “Good afternoon, Major,” Corras said as he and his escorts entered the small, cool room.

  “To you as well,” the major replied. “Please, sit. So, you want to take one of my shuttles. I presume it’s for something too sensitive for me to know about, right?”

  “Precisely. It is an urgent matter, otherwise I would have made a more standard requisition request as opposed to coming here.”

  “I see. And how long, exactly, would you need the shuttle for?”

  “Impossible to say for certain. A few days, at least. At most, if things don’t
go according to plan, possibly a few weeks?”

  “I would love to help you, Director, truly, but this is extremely irregular. I’ll have to run it through brigade command.”

  Corras tensed slightly. “There isn’t time, Major. I do not want to invoke IRSS authority and commandeer a shuttle by force. Things will be much simpler for both of us if we do this the normal way.”

  The major did not immediately respond, and Corras could see the conflict on his face as he tried to figure out what was best. Like most longtime military men, the major was likely not particularly fond of the IRSS, but understood that when push came to shove, the intelligence service would win out.

  Before the major could reply, however, the door to the office opened, and someone else entered. Corras’s heart stopped cold.

  “Director Revval?” said a familiar voice. “I had no idea you were back from your leave, let alone here, of all places.”

  Corras turned to see the familiar face of Agent Galanel Mirelar, one of his top agents.

  “Ah, Agent Mirelar,” Corras said without missing a beat as he rose to his feet. “A pleasure, as always. In truth, I had intended to still be on leave, but a source contacted me a few days ago with a lead that demanded my personal attention, and was time-sensitive.”

  “A rebel lead?” Galanel asked as she arched an eyebrow.

  “The only kind of lead that would pull me from leave. I am very close to locating their main base.” Corras noticed one of his escorts twitch slightly, a hand tightening on a rifle, and very slightly turned his head in what he hoped would be understood as a “no” signal.