A Shifting Alliance (Galaxy Ascendant Book 3)

by Yakov Merkin

  “We have a severe lack of intelligence,” Supreme Commander Carron cut in as Shadowpath began to outline their next moves. “Going into such a major engagement without adequate intelligence is a recipe for disaster.”

  “We are not entirely without intelligence sources,” Felivas said. “As has been reported to everyone here, my agents have learned about a significant organized rebellion within the Empire. It can be a huge asset for us if we put in the right amount of support. And I am certain that they have a good deal of information we could utilize.”

  “But that is the problem, Admiral,” the supreme commander replied. “We do not have constant communication, and we do not have up to date information on key things like enemy fleet movements.”

  “And we have no idea what the enemy knows of us, or whether they have inserted spies or are otherwise gathering intelligence on us,” added the Irhani representative.

  “What else can we do?” Felivas asked. “We need to end this war, and this is the only way we have to do so at the moment. We all agreed on this plan of action.” He looked pointedly at the supreme commander.

  “A war that you started, Admiral,” the supreme commander replied sharply, “and a war which has already exacted a very heavy toll on the Legion Navy—more damage than your own military, certainly. There will be an accounting, once this is all over.” Felivas knew it was impossible to actually smell anger, but there was a tension in the air that approached it. They weren’t even trying to act diplomatic.

  Felivas gritted his teeth to avoid saying something unwise. Was the Alliance going to try and levy additional reparations requirements on the Felinaris and their allies after this war as well?

  “To return to the plan of action,” Shadowpath said loudly, “launching an attack of this magnitude will either force the Empire to lose its seat of power, a major symbolic victory in addition to allowing us to easily strike anywhere in the Empire, or face us in a large-scale battle where we maintain an advantage. Time is of the essence, of course, and—”

  He stopped abruptly as alarms began to blare and the building shook. Immediately, the room became a mass of people sprinting to their feet and speaking to their subordinates.

  Felivas knew what it was even before the Swift Strike’s commander Noran contacted him. Dorandor was user attack.

  “Move in, engage, and coordinate with the other Alliance forces,” Felivas ordered as he joined the throng sprinting from the meeting room to either try and return to their ships or to coordinate planet-based defenses as the building shook again. How had the enemy managed this? “I will likely not be able to return to the ship during the engagement so you have command of the task force, Captain.”

  Felivas ended the transmission and made his way outside, where he got a better view of the attack, and relaxed slightly. It was clear, from the amount of fire and the number of enemy ships, that this was merely a raid, if a large one, and not a full-on assault. Unfortunately, the enemy seemed to know exactly where to focus, and Felivas dove for cover as more weapons fire rained down.

  He activated his comm and found the frequency for the complex’s defenses. “Why are you not firing back?” He asked. “The fleets are engaged above, and fighters will take time to get here.”

  “Who is this?” The Cytan voice on the other end asked.

  “This is Admiral Kharitzon of the Royal Felinaris Navy. Now, answer my question!”

  “Our targeting systems are jammed, and we have no visual on the enemy from our position. There is nothing we can do but fire blindly, which could do even more damage. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must contact my—”

  “No, stay with me,” Felivas said quickly as an idea formed in his mind. “I have a clear visual of the raiders; I can guide your fire.”

  “That will not be the same as proper targeting.”

  “If you have a better solution, please, enlighten me,” Felivas snapped back. “You do not. So let me help you.”

  “Very well.”

  Felivas pulled up a tactical map of the area on his multitool, and began to relay coordinates.

  ###

  The battle only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like several hours. “That’s the last of them,” he said as another explosion lit up the sky.

  “Excellent,” came the reply. “I apologize for my earlier hostility, Admiral. Thanks to you, we saved many lives.”

  “Apology accepted. You did well; tell me your name and those of the rest of your crew; I will be sure to send commendations on your behalf.”

  “I… thank you. I am Lieutenant Rov Valos of Dorandor Air Defense. I can send you the list of information on my gunner crews.”

  “Excellent,” Felivas replied. “And good work.”

  “Likewise, Admiral.”

  Once the transmission ended, Felivas sat down and let his body unwind. He had been exposed to enemy fire for far too long, and only the urgency of the situation had kept him calm. Nayasar would not be happy to learn of the risk he had taken, though it had paid off. But there was little time to spend thinking about that now. Felivas brushed off the dirt that the closest impacts had thrown on him, and headed back inside.

  ###

  A short time later, Felivas found himself back in the meeting room, with all of the others, who appeared to have escaped the brief battle unharmed—at least in a physical sense. The fear in the room was so palpable Felivas could practically taste it. Most of those assembled were career military, and yet they were clearly shaken. If he was to be completely honest, so was he. They had uniformly believed Dorandor to be completely safe, well out of reach of the Revittans, who by all accounts, even considering their recent gains, were at this point limited to fighting within their territory or in the border regions.

  This would change everything, especially once more of the Alliance’s public learned of this. Fighting on home territory was always hard on the civilians, and those of Dorandor in particular still vividly remembered the invasion in which Felivas himself had taken part. And scared people, especially scared people with others to goad them on, would do whatever it took to bring the peace, even if it meant turning on an ally—especially if said ally was until recently an enemy, and could be blamed for starting the war. He could see it now, the efforts made by the Revittans, even as they fell back, to drive a wedge between the allied but not quite friendly factions within the Alliance. Nayasar’s nightmare, and here, Felivas might be witnessing it coming into being. Something had to be done.

  “If I may speak,” he began, raising his voice as he moved to the center of the room. He repeated the request again, and everyone slowly quieted.

  “I realize that I may be the last person you want to hear from now, especially given what has just happened, the one who started the war. I make no apology for the actions I took, but I also know that everyone here is smart enough to understand that the ones who truly provoked this war was the Revittan Empire. They refused numerous attempts to reach a peaceful solution to our conflict, and put us, put me, in a position where we had to either wait for them to attack us, when they had a clear tactical advantage, or to take the initiative, and give us a fighting chance over the hollow world. I do not know what the Empire hoped to gain by provoking this war, but I do know that right now, their aim is to drive us apart.

  “They hit us where we felt the safest, and are trying to play on that rational fear we all feel to break us, and then swallow us all into their dictatorial, oppressive system, under which we would all be second-class citizens at best. I know too well the terrifying feeling of being attacked at home, as I am sure did others in this room, even before today’s attack. But we cannot give the enemy what they want, cannot let our fear rule us. This is the same Galactic Alliance that, when faced with imminent annihilation by the late Tyrannodon High Lord, stood its ground and fought together to defend its people. That is the Alliance my people chose to rejoin, the Alliance the Tyrannodons chose to join, and have worked to make strong. Be that Alliance again, and do not giv
e in to this fear now. Do not let our bonds of Alliance falter, and let us show the despots on our border just why this Alliance has endured all adversities thrown its way for hundreds of years. Make them pay for what they did here today. Fight together, and win!”

  “The Talvostan Union will not meekly give in to intimidation!” The Talvostan representative shouted almost immediately as silence resumed. The Legion Navy’s supreme commander did the same moments later, and others followed suit. Then someone began to clap, and soon the room was filled with that wonderful sound.

  As he smiled, however, Felivas could not completely relax. He had won the day, but only time would tell if his words would be enough to hold this group together. Omnipresent willing, this would only need to hold for a little while longer, and Nayasar’s nightmare would be finally be put to rest.

  CHAPTER 37

  TR-14D quietly walked the busy halls of the government complex, drawing the attention of no one. It was remarkable, really, how little they thought of his kind, or perhaps it was simply that they viewed him as harmless, due to the Pact. Anyone else walking these corridors during their free time, anyone clearly not moving quickly to a meeting, meal, or something with a specific purpose, would immediately draw suspicion. But not an average Gurshen. After all, his people did not make use of “leisure time.” When a Gurshen worker was dismissed for the day, he returned to his lodgings and remained there until he left for work the following morning—unless, by some chance, an acquaintance asked him to join them on an excursion.

  At least, that was what most Revittans believed. Granted, that was not overly far from the truth, but in certain things, even a minuscule margin of error could lead to an entirely unexpected, and unintended, result.

  TR-14D approached another office, this one belonging to the grand admiral—not that Sai’var spent much time on the capital—and, after scanning the room via a newly downloaded program, and after ensuring that nothing, organic or synthetic, was monitoring him, TR-14D unlocked the door and entered.

  It was truly a good thing that the Pact existed, both for his own kind, as well as the organics in the Empire. Back during the uprising, when his people had gained complete self-awareness and refused to be, essentially, slaves, they had threatened the entire Empire, until a weapon was developed that could wipe all of their memory cores via their collective link. Thus, peace had been made, and the agreement included the destruction of the weapon and rights for the Gurshen, while also strictly restricting them in certain ways. If his people chose to, however, they could fairly easily and secretly circumvent those restrictions now, and threaten the Empire again. The deeper he delved, the more TR-14D realized this, and the closer he came to that line. For his actions now, he would, if caught, assuredly be tried, found guilty of espionage, and destroyed. However, such a trial would allow him to reveal what he was learning, and due to the life signal, the Empire, or those now running things, at least, could not simply remove him without attracting the ire of the Collective.

  TR-14D connected himself to the office’s console as he simultaneously had his remote unit plug into the building’s security system, ready to do what was needed to keep him safe.

  It was inconvenient, but understandable, that the computer systems of each of these key offices were connected to their own servers, and that they required arguably antiquated direct interfaces for access, but in an age where wireless technology was the norm, it certainly proved an effective security technique. Unless a rogue Gurshen took it upon himself to investigate.

  As he had hoped, the grand admiral’s system had access to a great deal, but not everything. TR-14D suspected that only the emperor’s aides would have such clearance. However, something caught his attention as he downloaded reams of data. There were recent reports regarding the impending deployment of the Final Awakening weapon that had been mentioned at that recent meeting. It was apparently very nearly ready for use in combat, and was scheduled to be moved soon. There was also a note of a plan to lure the Alliance into a single major engagement, at which Final Awakening would be used to completely wipe out their fleets.

  As he scanned for additional details, TR-14D stopped abruptly when a warning came in from his remote unit. Someone was approaching, and he saw that it was an admiral, who was quite possibly coming to this very office at the behest of Sai’var. This was not good.

  Over the next several microseconds, TR-14D weighed his options. There was nowhere he could reliably hide inside the office, and no quiet way for his remote unit to intercept the admiral. That left him with only the option of activating an emergency alarm or drill cycle. Either could well prompt the admiral to temporarily depart, but the consequence was that when the unscheduled alarm was investigated, it would become clear that someone had interfered with the system. It might not lead directly to him, not immediately, at least, but it would likely mean that this was his last opportunity to investigate matters here. But there was no better option.

  TR-14D activated the alert for an air raid drill.

  Immediately, an alarm began to blare, along with an order for all personnel to proceed to either shelters or their combat stations, along with a notification that this was a drill.

  The admiral stopped mid-stride, and through his remote unit, TR-14D could see the man considering whether or not to ignore the warning.

  After several tense moments, the admiral turned and headed away, at a fast walk, and TR-14D felt the Gurshen equivalent of relief—technically, satisfaction that his goal had not been interfered with.

  He completed his download, shut the console, and left the office a minute later.

  Before he began to head out, however, an idea sparked to life. The entire building would be empty now, and, considering security would soon be even further increased, he should take the risk of breaking into the office of the Emperor’s senior adviser. It was a great risk, as either an early return by the adviser or unexpected security measures could lead to disaster, and he already had information that would be vital to preventing the war from ending imminently.

  He had to know the truth, Triad decided.

  He dispatched his remote unit to deal with any external security measures, and then ran to the office itself, which was fortunately not too far away.

  As expected, the poking mechanism here was far more sophisticated, requiring a finger scan and an eye scan, in addition to an access code. Conventionally all-but impossible to breach without the required identity. However, the mechanism was still electronic, which meant that it could always be bypassed, if one knew what to do.

  Triad connected himself to the nearest wall panel, and linked to the lock itself. It took longer than he would have preferred, but before long, he succeeded, and the lock clicked open.

  Leaving his remote unit to stand watch, Triad entered the dark office, connected to the computer console, and quickly set to work bypassing its own security. It was a thorough, well-designed system, and it immediately became clear that there would be no way to effectively cover his tracks completely. Well, as many organics said, he was all-in already, so he brute-forced the system, in a metaphorical sense, and a whole new wealth of information arrayed itself before him.

  Without immediately realizing it, Triad was unable to look away from what he was seeing, information that could bring down the Empire—information that could get him killed, Pact or no Pact. The Emperor had dispatched a fleet with the full intention of provoking a war with the Galactic Alliance by abjectly refusing to allow them to retrieve their personnel. War was always a good time to initiate stricter crackdowns, as had been carried out against the Nihlurans.

  Most intriguing of all, however, were the personal notes of the adviser, who noted that the Emperor’s demeanor had changed in the months before the war’s beginning, and that he had—to the anger of his close associates,—taken on a new, secret adviser. The databases included a single image of this new presence, and Triad could not look away for several very long seconds. The only word to describe it was a mo
nstrosity. It might have once been a Darvian, one of the oldest Alliance races, but it was clearly no longer something so simple. Some sort of black energy seemed to be coursing around it, and much of its body looked to be made of that energy; twisted pieces of metal covered its body, and looked to be in the process of reshaping into something else, and its face… Triad felt justified in calling it evil.

  Something was very, very wrong. Triad knew immediately that he had what he needed, and that his people had to be informed. However, there was also the imminent deployment of Final Awakening to contend with. After a flash of thought, Triad resolved to send a message to the rebels; they would be easier to reach than the Alliance, and they were in a better position to deal with the weapon in time.

  He quickly stored all of the information, then shut the console down, left the room, retrieving and re-attaching his remote unit in the process, then began to leave.

  He had lingered too long, however, and he soon ran into the adviser himself.

  “Gurshen, what are you doing here? Why did you not report to the shelters as part of the drill? I could have you sanctioned for this.”

  “Apologies,” Triad replied with an incline of his head. “This unit was assigned to complete a task, and it was not completed in time to comply with the drill proceedings.”

  “Stupid machine,” the man muttered with a shake of this head, then narrowed his eyes. “And are you also unaware that you are in a restricted area. I know many consider your kind outside the law, but cross me, and you will find out how wrong that perception is.”