A Greater Duty (Galaxy Ascendant Book 1)

by Yakov Merkin

  “Of course, my lord,” Darkclaw said, then the High Lord ended their link. Darkclaw would have to devote even more resources to catch the traitor, especially if they were capable of distorting his memory.

  As he picked up the remains of the avatar, then fully stood up and began to walk to his command chair, Darkclaw felt strange for a moment, and then his memory was clear. He nearly laughed. He was trying to catch himself! If the situation was not so dire, it really would be funny.

  Darkclaw wanted to do nothing but return to his quarters and figure out how best to prepare a weapon to use against the High Lord, but he couldn’t, not with a Legion Navy fleet 4,000 ships strong bearing down on his own forces.

  Darkclaw activated the fleet command system, and quickly took stock of the situation. The Legion fleet was outnumbered slightly; they would have had at least an additional 4,000 warships ready for action, but they had been held back, along with the remains of the planetary defense fleets. Darkclaw’s force, which included all of the currently active Tyrannodon forces, and all of the Felinaris and Snevan forces, numbered at almost seven thousand. For that reason alone, Darkclaw did not expect the Legion Navy to fight for long. They likely hoped to both delay Darkclaw’s fleet, which was clearly en route to attack the Alliance’s center, and to bloody his fleet as much as possible, to weaken it for the inevitable confrontation where the Legion Navy and its supporters would have the advantage.

  So, if he hit the Alliance fleet hard enough, they would cut their losses and fall back, satisfied that they had at least delayed his fleet. Darkclaw selected all ships on the tactical display and ordered them into a standard attack formation, then ordered them to attack the Legion Navy fleet head on.

  As his forces closed with the Alliance fleet, Darkclaw further micromanaged them, ordering the Felinaris warships to converge on the edges of the attack formation, and for the Snevans to take the center while positioning his own ships to take the brunt of enemy fire. He had no illusions about this fight being easy, and as much as he hoped to bring this destructive war to a close soon, his own forces still took priority over the enemy.

  Minutes later, the fleets came within range, and Darkclaw ordered them to open fire, but to prioritize the Legion Navy’s Annihilator-class dreadnaughts. Seeing the pride of their fleet destroyed might prompt the enemy to withdraw faster, and Darkclaw would rather not have to face as many of them at Kalisene or Dorandor.

  As the battle grew more heated, Darkclaw tuned out the chatter from the thousands of ship captains, who were coordinating vocally, which Darkclaw supposed was a natural action, but despite his newfound appreciation for more emotional actions, he still preferred to command as he did, quietly and efficiently.

  Maybe it was just because it provided such a welcome feeling to focus on something simpler than dealing with the High Lord, to be doing something that he knew he was capable of. Even though he was fighting on the High Lord’s behalf.

  Darkclaw watched on the tactical display as the Legion Navy fleet reacted to his attack. Dozens of their dreadnaughts had been destroyed in the initial engagement, along with many more warships, but to Darkclaw’s surprise, they held their ground. They likely had some sort of complex defensive plan for Dorandor, one that desperately needed time. It was too bad that the High Lord’s presence would render any conventional defenses useless.

  As Darkclaw ordered his forces to close with the Legion Navy fleet, their plan grew clearer. Each of the Legion Navy fleet’s groups, four in total, split into three smaller groups and scattered, flying just close enough to Darkclaw’s forces to fire a few volleys before falling back again. Each attack run cost them more ships than they claimed, but the enemy was succeeding in drawing out the battle.

  As his forces, the Felinaris in particular, began to pursue the enemy attack groups, Darkclaw considered his options. He was, after all, not opposed to buying more time. He had a weapon now, but no idea yet how to effectively utilize it. He surely could not attempt to kill the High Lord himself. Even if he trusted himself to not hesitate at a crucial moment, Darkclaw would never get a chance to so much as make a move against the High Lord. This borrowed time could be put to good use.

  Then another dozen Felinaris ships vanished from the tactical display. No, he could not let the fight drag out. That would only mean more deaths on his side. And for what? A paltry few hours? Had he grown so selfish?

  Darkclaw sent new orders to the fleet. They were to regroup and let the enemy come at them. When the enemy came within firing range, they were to be annihilated.

  Several minutes later, Darkclaw looked out of the display screen as the fleet resumed its defensive position. The first Legion Navy attack group to move in close was completely wiped out in beautiful and horrific explosions. So was the next. Again, the Legion Navy proved less than effective at offensive tactics.

  As their attack strategy became ineffective, the Legion Navy fleet regrouped and attempted to come at Darkclaw’s forces again. In response, Darkclaw ordered his ships to launch fighters and to directly engage the enemy.

  Not long after the fleets clashed, Darkclaw saw the interdictors vanish from the system, soon followed by the Alliance command vessels, and the Legion Navy fleet began to fall back. Darkclaw ordered his ships not to pursue. They would have to fully count their own casualties and repair damaged ships before they could continue the assault on Kalisene, in addition to conducting reconnaissance; he could not let himself face an unexpected attack again. The High Lord would accept that explanation.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Darkclaw sat in his quarters as the fleet began its final approach to the Corseden system, and their target. He had a plan. Darkclaw rested his hands on his desk, and stared at the claws that were his namesake, his mark as a servant of the High Lord, and as something greater than a simple organic being. The claws that would kill the High Lord, and give his people, and everyone else in the galaxy, a future.

  From what he had gathered, there was no substance that could cut his claws, apart from the claws themselves. He pressed his left hand flat against the desk, and rested the claw from the first finger on his right hand on the thumb claw on his left. The he pressed down and began to cut into the claw.

  It took longer than he would have expected; it seemed like it was as if he was attempting to cut a natural claw with another, but before long he succeeded, cutting it off near the base, though he left enough remaining so that he would hopefully not notice if he did not chance to look when the innocence chip was turned off. But it would be significantly more dangerous regardless.

  As soon as he finished with the first claw, Darkclaw moved on to the next. If the High Lord chanced to contact him now, he was finished. But there was no choice. As he methodically cut off the rest of his claws, the last by holding one of the severed claws in two fingers, he wondered if they would grow back tainted as they were now. But for now, it felt as if he was removing from himself some of the evils he had done in the High Lord’s service. Still, it felt very strange for them not to be there, though interestingly, Darkclaw felt as though they were still a part of him, as though he could still slash with them, even though he clearly couldn’t. It made sense, however: If the claws were some form of energy, then it could not be created or destroyed, and his body was somehow connected to it. After all, the High Lord, who was fully made of the energy, could alter his form at will and could likely separate bits of energy from himself without sacrificing his power. Darkclaw attempted to command the severed claws to move, but while he still felt their connection to him, nothing happened. No matter; he already had a capable delivery system.

  Once he was done, Darkclaw put on his armor’s gauntlets, which he had never worn before—hopefully neither he nor anyone else would notice that the claws were gone—and retrieved the seeker device from his armor. Using the strongest adhesive that Kalviss had been able to find on the ship, Darkclaw affixed the claws to the flat end of the seeker. The weapon was prepared. But Darkclaw knew he c
ould never use it himself.

  He accessed his comm terminal, prepared a message to send to the Scion Dalcon, whose personal communication channel he had learned through, ironically, files that had been supplied by the Scions who had come over to the High Lord’s side. However, Darkclaw hesitated before sending the message. His terminal, and the channel he would use, was surely secure, but it was secured by Tyrannodons. And with the High Lord likely more wary… He would have to contact the Scion through alternative means.

  Darkclaw recorded a brief message for the Scion, explaining the weapon he had prepared and how to use it, and that there would only be one chance.

  When he was done, Darkclaw summoned Kalviss.

  “I have a task for you,” Darkclaw said as the Snevan entered the room. “You are to travel down to the surface during the attack on Kalisene. Once there, you will contact the Scion Dalcon on a channel I will provide. At all costs, get the weapon and my message to him. Ensure that he knows I sent you.” Dalcon would be on the moon, if his previous actions during the war were any indication. If he was not, then the plan would have to change. Perhaps Kalviss himself would pull the metaphorical trigger if Dalcon could not be found. All that mattered was that there was someone; Darkclaw knew that he could not do it himself.

  “Undersstood, Exeecutoor,” Kalviss replied, and accepted the objects. “Ii wiill find thee Sscion.”

  Kalviss then saluted, and departed the room. It was all in the Snevan’s hands now, and then the Daeris’s. All that was left for Darkclaw to do was to play the role he had been created to play, and to hope.

  There was no way to hold back his excitement, anticipation, and, of course, fear. But Darkclaw was glad of it. The feelings, however confusing or unpleasant they might be, were what told him that he was independent now, no longer bound to the lord of destruction he had been created to follow. And whether he succeeded or not, Darkclaw was glad that he had had the opportunity to do so. He had done all that he could. Whether he succeeded or failed was up to others now.

  CHAPTER 25

  Nayasar walked as quickly as she could through the Selban’s hallways toward the hanger where the Harbinger awaited. She would have run, but that would be a bit unseemly, so she settled for walking quickly. She was so close to her goal. One more kill, and everything would be better; no more nightmares, no more guilt.

  When she arrived at the hangar bay, however, only Felivas and Kiari were present. That was strange enough, but both of them weren’t suited up. What was going on?

  “Why aren’t you ready?” she asked. “Where’s everyone else? They all knew when to be here.”

  “We’re not going, Nayasar,” Felivas said. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “You’re not well, Nayasar, you’re obsessed. You nearly killed yourself last time, nearly got all of us killed. Half the team is still in serious condition, and questions are being asked. It’s time to stop. Darkclaw said he has a plan on how to end this, and we need to be here. For him, and for our troops.”

  Nayasar turned to Kiari. Crazy Kiari, who had agreed with her completely. “We need to do this,” Nayasar said. “You congratulated me after last mission. You’ve never agreed with Felivas about anything before!” They couldn’t all have abandoned her.

  “I’m sorry, Nayasar,” Kiari replied. At least she was able to make eye contact. Kiari looked… sympathetic. “But he has a point. And I’ll agree with whoever I want when it’s your well-being on the line. I’ve seen this before, experienced it before. You can hardly sleep, you keep reliving the horrible moments. I get that. It passes. Revenge doesn’t fix it. Only you can do that. Besides,” she continued with a more typical grin, “even when the war is over you can always send me in to kill Rotam. They couldn’t blame the military then. There’s a bigger picture here, Nayasar, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.”

  Everyone had abandoned her. They all claimed to be doing this for her own good, but they didn’t understand, however much they professed to. Nayasar fidgeted as she thought things over. Of course there were other important things, there always were. But others could take care of everything else. Darkclaw could handle his High Lord. Felivas could handle the fleet. Only she could fix her failure. If she hadn’t failed and let all those people die, they never would have needed this war, never would have needed to kill these people now.

  Nayasar reached for her belt, and selected a flash grenade. “If you won’t help me,” she said, “I’ll do it myself!”

  As Felivas darted forward, Nayasar dropped the grenade and dashed around him. Seconds later, the grenade went off, but Nayasar had steeled herself, and was able to shrug off the worst of it. She ran toward the Harbinger’s loading ramp, and was nearly there when Kiari tackled her.

  “Listen to me Nayasar, you can’t do this, especially not in this state!” she said.

  Nayasar didn’t reply, and untangled herself from Kiari, who didn’t resist particularly strongly. It was sometimes too easy to predict how people who cared about her would act.

  Nayasar ran up the ramp, and into the Harbinger’s cockpit. Immediately, she closed the boarding ramp, then powered up the ship. Felivas would likely be attempting to make sure she was stopped, but Nayasar outranked him. She quickly forwarded the needed commands, and was rewarded with the outer hangar door opening.

  Without hesitation, Nayasar flew through the energy field that covered the hangar’s entrance and off of the larger ship. As she began to move far enough from Kalisene and Raonden to make the jump to hyperspace, the Harbinger’s scanner picked up a pair of fighters tailing her. Just try and stop me. They wouldn’t fire on her, and there was no way they’d catch her.

  As the ship reached the point from which she could go to hyperspace, Nayasar made an obscene gesture in the general direction of the fighters and jumped to hyperspace, destination Dorandor.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Nayasar exited hyperspace as close to Dorandor as she dared. The first thing she saw was the massive fleet in formation around the central world of the Alliance. It must have been the entirety of the Legion Navy forces plus anything else the individual worlds had left. Nayasar spotted Talvostan, Irhani, and even a handful of Darvian ships. It was almost enough to make her turn around. Almost. There was nothing that would stop her now.

  Nayasar carefully maneuvered the Harbinger around the assembled fleet and down toward the planet’s surface. The ship’s cloaking and stealth capabilities would be able to keep her from being spotted—they had worked perfectly in the previous operations—, but Nayasar had to be sure, with such a large fleet around the planet. She hadn’t come all this way for nothing.

  As she entered the planet’s atmosphere, Nayasar soon spotted her destination, Eridel, the planet’s capital city. She had once been impressed by its grandeur, with its tall, glittering skyscrapers and skyways. Now all she saw was something to destroy, an angry red haze over everything. It would serve them right when their pretty jewel of a city got smashed.

  Nayasar’s gaze quickly gravitated toward one structure, or series of structures as it were, the Assembly complex. The center of the Alliance’s government was comprised of several buildings, including the large, round Assembly building, the pyramidal office of the chairman, and the half-dozen rectangular buildings that held the rest of the offices. It was supposed to be a representation of the myriad peoples and cultures within the Alliance, but Nayasar only saw it as ugly and decadent.

  While her sources on the planet had told her that Rotam knew he was a target, they had also said that he had not gone into hiding, which was not unexpected. With half of the chairman’s original advisory council dead and a war still raging, he couldn’t well abandon his post. And that fact would give Nayasar his exact location.

  Nayasar carefully maneuvered the almost distressingly quiet Harbinger above the building that housed the chairman’s office. Rotam’s office would be there as well. Once in position, she ordered the ship to return to orbit and await her signal to return. Then sh
e gathered her gear and hopped out of the ship, landing on the roof of the building. She carefully made her way, cloaked, down the steep side of the pyramidal structure until she found an open window, and slipped inside.

  Once inside, Nayasar stood in a corner and brought up the map of the building. This one had been particularly easy to map out; she had been here before, and it was a high-profile location. She quickly located Rotam’s office several floors below her position, then drew her weapon and began to move.

  The floor she’d entered on was largely devoted to the media, and as such was frustratingly crowded, and being all but invisible made moving through groups of people difficult, at best. Fortunately once she made it down a level the hallways were far emptier, though the problem of crowding was replaced by the problem of guards. There was a pair of them, standing directly in front of the stairwell door that she would need to use to get to where she needed to be. How best to deal with them? She couldn’t well start a firefight; that would certainly draw attention. She could try to create a distraction, but that would most likely be seen to by standard security, not the Legion Navy soldiers guarding the door.

  This would have been a lot easier if the team had come. Nayasar still couldn’t believe that they’d quit, especially Felivas and Kiari. It wasn’t even as if they’d be gone long. Nayasar would be back well before Darkclaw moved the fleets to Dorandor. But first, another worthless Darvian would die. If any of the planners of the Selban Massacre would be able to escape justice again after the war, it was him. The chairman would never give up his trusted advisor. But unfortunately for him, the Darvian would die, and the souls of the dead would be at peace; the nightmares would stop.

  A few minutes later, Nayasar had a plan. She quietly drew both of her long knives and crept toward the soldiers. When she was within striking distance, Nayasar slashed both of their throats in one swift motion. The soldiers collapsed to the ground, unable to call for aid, and Nayasar finished them both with stabs to their chests. There wouldn’t be much she could do about the blood that got on the floor, but she’d be gone, target dead, before anyone noticed. She did take the time to drag the bodies into a nearby supply closet; not an easy task when the soldiers, a Tehlman and a Talvostan, were both larger than her.