by Drew Avera
Shadow Empire
Book Four of the Alorian Wars
Drew Avera
SHADOW
EMPIRE
BOOK FOUR OF THE ALORIAN WARS
DREW AVERA
All Rights Reserved 2018 by Drew Avera
www.drewavera.com
Acknowledgments
Over the last five years, I’ve come across many people who give of their time to help me succeed. Often it comes in the form of marketing shares, but lately it has grown to all facets of publishing. The book you’re about to read is truly a collaborative effort. From my editor, Deanne, to my beta reader, B. Allen Thobois; the story was molded into shape in a way I could not have done on my own. The formatting for the series by my friend Charity to make it as visually appealing as I hope the nuances of the story are. And Steve who helped brand the series with amazing typography on my covers. I’m blessed to have such awesome people help me bring this series to life.
And then there’s you, giving of your time to read this work. Thank you for giving me the time to share myself with you. I hope you enjoy where the story takes us!
Drew
The Alorian Wars
Broken Worlds
Deadly Refuge
Mutiny Rising
Shadow Empire
Regime Change (2018)
Orbital Decay (Prequel)
The Dead Planet Series
Exodus
Verity
Endgame
The Prospect (Prequel)
Chancerian
Darkest Beyond
Standalones and Box Sets
Scavengers
Nation Divided
Mississippi Burning
Darker Tomorrow (5 Book Box Set)
The Alorian Wars (Vol 1)
The Complete Dead Planet Series
One
Ilium
The King Slayer purred under his control as he sat in the captain's chair. For three weeks, Ilium had learned more about the most advanced ship in the Greshian Fleet than he could have ever imagined. The power required to jump, the number of escape pods easily accessible from the major stations on the ship, the reload time for the torpedo tubes with a full crew − these were the naval lessons he craved to know. The biggest lesson was with the display in destructive power of such a magnificent warship as the King Slayer supported the Greshian Navy and stomped the rebellious Shiveian forces into annihilation. The collapse of their military was drawn out only for the Greshian commanders to provide wartime training for their junior officers like Commander Ilium Gyl. He might have worn the rank, but he lacked the experience. It was something he gained tenfold since the mutiny which claimed his previous ship, taking him out of command and placing him under the wing of Captain Crexon, the only captain whom Ilium had any respect for.
"Sir, there's an unknown ship within the kill zone. Do you wish to target?" Ensign Arterius Stavis asked from her console. Despite her being only an Ensign, Ilium was impressed by how easily she commanded from her position. She was born for this duty, he thought with a bit of envy in his heart at her natural inclination to the military. That was one thing he always struggled with, excelling at his job as a naval officer. It was something he felt he was learning now, and if his crew was any indication, his training was beginning to work.
Ilium looked at her. Before this day, he would have said yes and destroyed the ship without a second thought. But that was the old way Ilium acted when he was fighting for control. That fight was over now, or at least fought in a less overt way. His destiny had not changed, but his path to get there had, and it never looked clearer. "Magnify, please," he said, watching his screen populate with enough data to make the head of a younger version of him swim. "What am I looking at?" The magnified image depicted something much more sinister than the transport ship that the transponder code identified it as. His thoughts shifted to the pirate Crase Tuin, but this technology far exceeded that man's capabilities. This ship required a crew the size of the King Slayer at a minimum. This isn't good.
"I'm not sure, sir, but I am identifying the evidence of weapon mounts on the outer hull. It's certainly not a transport ship," Ensign Stavis said.
Despite the past few weeks of training, and seeing a massive battle take place from the bridge of the King Slayer, Ilium was unsure of what the next move should be. He was the interim replacement to the Executive Officer after a death in the family called him away. Now, Ilium was forced to be second in command, not that he was complaining, but it didn't come without its inconveniences. Especially considering a ship of this size was a target, albeit a well-armed one. I'm not the captain, he thought. What if I make a mistake? His heart beat rapidly as he thought about what the negative outcome would be if he initiated an offensive strike against an unknown ship without approval from the captain. "Ensign Stavis, call for the captain," he ordered. "He's going to want to see this."
"Aye aye, sir."
Ilium sat and watched as the unknown ship sat in the darkness, unmoving. At least they're not lighting us up. Let's hope it stays that way. Despite being the aggressors for most conflicts, the Greshians preferred to be on the deciding side of any combat. Ilium craved conflict, but only on his own terms, the ones he could lay out and plan for. I'm not ready to take the helm against an adversary I haven't trained for.
"The captain is on his way, sir.”
Ilium rose from the chair and said, "Thank you." He stepped closer to the monitor with his arms behind his back, leaning in to see the image and trying to discern if there were any recognizable markings on the slick hull of the vessel. "You ever seen anything like this before?"
"Not exactly, sir, but we have seen ships with cloaked transponder codes before. Most of them end up being rebels.”
"Sir," the combat control officer, Lieutenant Serran Teirs, said. "We have picked up movement on the ship."
"Where?"
"Port side, on the stern," she replied. Teirs stepped closer to him and pointed at the spot on the monitor she was referring to. "It's hard to see in this image, but the sensor arrays are detecting something."
"What could it be?" Usually, if a combatant was going to open fire they would've done so by now, Ilium thought.
"It could be a torpedo tube," she answered.
Captain Crexon rushed onto the bridge. "What's going on, Ilium?"
Ilium, startled, turned to see the captain of the King Slayer and lifted his hands as if he had no response. "We have an unidentifiable ship, sir. There's movement on the port side near the stern, and Lieutenant Teirs thinks it may be a torpedo tube."
"Well, shit," he said, his gruff voice making Ilium realize the captain had just woken up from a deep sleep. "Set defensive posture," he ordered.
"Aye, sir," Ensign Stavis said as her fingers scrawled across the console. Ilium watched as the woman muttered into her microphone, alerting the other departments of what was about to take place. If they had to jump, then the sudden increase in thrust would toss the crew around without mercy. Ilium hoped it would not come to that as the bridge settled into a dim blue lighting while defensive posture was set. Ilium knew combat control was on high alert and they were ready for things to shake down. After the defeat of the Shiveian fleet, why wouldn't they be? He was glad to have a capable crew, but that didn't help his disappointment in himself for not knowing what to do. When he had taken control of his last ship, he had let the weapons department take control of arming the torpedoes in case there was an escalation in the situation at hand. Is that necessary now? he wondered. It wasn't moving, but there was something unsettling about the quiet ship in the distance, hidden in the darkness and camouflaged with a fake transponder code. What if we hadn't seen it? They could have attacked us without our knowing.
"What's ou
r status?" the captain asked. He was pacing the bridge and rubbing his eyes. Ilium watched as the older man in command of the most advanced war vessel in the navy went about his business. Captain Crexon was the best mentor in the navy Ilium had, and he felt a kinship to the man despite having known him for only a few short weeks.
"Torpedoes are manned, Sir," Ensign Stavis said. "Combat control is ready to initiate point defense cannons if necessary and the damage control teams are standing by for casualties, Sir."
"Very well. Thank you, Ensign Stavis."
Captain Crexon walked over to Ilium, leaning to whisper in his ear. "This is what we've been training for," he said. Ilium looked at him, silently grateful that the captain had not left all the responsibility on him. "It's going to be just like last time. We kicked their ass last time, and this time will be no different. Watch and take notes." Captain Crexon gave a knowing nod to Ilium before turning back to face the bridge.
"Yes, sir," Ilium said. There was nothing else he could think of to say. He felt disappointed that he was afraid and lacked confidence that he could properly lead the crew into battle. What was worse was wondering if Crexon silently held that against him. Ilium didn't like admitting that fear to himself, but ever since the mutiny on his last ship, he felt he had lost a part of himself. Some of the dark feelings that went through his mind had faded, but in their place was a version of himself that wasn't as confident as before. He was more cautious now and hoped that was a good thing.
"I won't wait for these assholes to fire," the captain said. "Fire a warning shot across their bow and let's see what these guys are made of."
"Yes, sir," Ensign Stavis said from her console. Ilium watched as the monitor illuminated red, showing that all weapons were armed and a target was locked. "Ready to fire the torpedo, sir."
"Let her go," Captain Crexon ordered.
"Torpedo launched."
Ilium watched the small dot on the screen move towards the image of the ship. The vast distance between the ships would mean it would be a long wait before impact; the fact that the ship was doing nothing after the shot was fired made him wonder how they would respond to an attack. "Sir, shouldn't their PDC's be firing?"
"Our torpedo is in range, but if they're about to launch an offensive, they may wait."
Ilium's eyes narrowed at the monitor, the torpedo flying closer and closer to the combatant ship. At any moment, the PDC's will be firing, he thought. But something else happened, something no one on the bridge of the King Slayer had ever seen before. "What the fuck?" Before impact, the torpedo exploded, but no PDC's were fired. It appeared to Ilium, and perhaps everyone else on the bridge, that the ship had some sort of invisible shield protecting it. "I thought that kind of shielding technology didn't exist," Ilium said under his breath.
"It's not supposed to," Captain Crexon said. "But if it does, then let's not let that keep us from breaching her hull. Ensign Stavis, launch everything we've got at the son of a bitch."
"Aye aye, sir."
Ilium watched as numerous torpedo tubes opened and fired on the enemy craft. It looked like a hailstorm of projectiles screeching towards the silent vessel. He leaned forward, trying to determine the point of impact for the dozens of torpedoes they had fired. One by one, the torpedoes erupted before reaching the hull of the other ship. But this time, the ship responded.
"We have incoming, Sir," Lieutenant Teirs said. Ilium noted the fear her voice, which echoed his own. "Estimated time of impact is thirty seconds."
Their torpedoes are much faster than ours.
"Activate the PDC's," Captain replied.
"Already activated, Sir," she said.
"They won't make it past our PDC's," he said. But to Ilium's ears it didn't sound like the degree of confidence he was hoping for. All of them watched, arms crossed, as the enemy torpedo approached. Ilium felt the deck beneath him stutter as the PDC's fired, and the torpedo exploded before making contact. There was an audible sigh of relief immediately followed by an exasperating gasp as the enemy ship fired enough torpedoes towards them that they could not make out the exact number, the display simply looking like a white mass coming towards them at an extremely high rate.
"Sir! There are too many," Lieutenant Teirs said.
Captain lurched forward, grabbing the monitor and pulling it towards him, his eyes wide with fear. "Get us the hell out of here," he ordered. "Burn like hell because if these torpedoes reach us we're dead."
"Yes, sir," Ensign Stavis said. Ilium watched as the lieutenant and ensign worked together, their hands flying over the consoles to control the ship.
The King Slayer was equipped with jumping capability. But to we have enough time? Ilium wondered. "Sir, what do you want me to do?" It was a question that displayed Ilium's weakness in a way that made him feel ashamed. A real executive officer would know what to do, he thought.
"Get your ass strapped in," Captain Crexon replied. "This will be a hell of a ride."
Ilium took the nearest seat and pulled the straps over his shoulders, buckling them into place. He held onto the straps with a white-knuckled grip. He felt the rumbling of the ship as it accelerated, the g-forces pressing his body against the seat. He wondered what the rest of the crew must be experiencing since Captain Crexon had made no announcement about what was happening. He could only assume there would be at least a few injuries. Better to be injured than dead, he thought.
"Captain, ten seconds to impact," Lieutenant Teirs said.
"Are we ready to jump yet?" The captain wasn't strapped in. Instead, he was holding onto the monitor with his legs planted to the deck at a wide stance. Ilium wondered if it would make any difference what the captain did to brace himself, or if he would be sent crashing into the bulkhead as the ship accelerated.
"Just a few more seconds, Sir," Ensign Stavis responded. Ilium watched the monitor, noting that the massive torpedoes were within kill range. If one was to detonate, it would set off a chain reaction and there was no way the King Slayer would be able to survive the explosive concussion. "We're ready to go, Sir." Her words would be a relief if we weren't seconds from annihilation, Ilium thought.
"Do it!"
The ship shuddered beneath Ilium, he had no idea where they were going, but he could only hope it was somewhere out of danger. He looked up in time to see Captain Crexon being thrown from the middle of the bridge into the bulkhead several feet away. The lights dimmed, and the steel structure groaned under the pressure of jumping from one point in space to another. He could hear the groans and cries of the others on the bridge and he knew that it was being echoed throughout the ship as sailors were most likely being tossed against the steel bulkheads as well. Ilium found it hard to catch his breath, the pressure on his chest suffocating him as if he were being crushed by an invisible creature. He tried to keep his eyes open, to stay awake to see what was happening, but his heavy eyelids soon closed as the world around him fell into darkness.
Two
Hespha
The memorial is beautiful, Hespha thought as she stood next to T’anoi's brother. Both had tears in their eyes, moist streaks running down their faces chilled by the frigid air blowing past them. She would not have thought after many years together it would've come to this, but as she looked at T’anoi's dead body she was reminded of the high cost of failure. It wasn't T’anoi's fault that they had failed, but it was his fault that she was forced to act in such a manner. Death before dishonor was a notion taught to her by her deceased father. As a young girl, she watched as dishonor crippled her father to the point he felt forced to take his own life. During that time, she swore she would never allow dishonor to claim her in such a way. It was the only promise she made to herself that she had kept so far, and that truth made her stomach turn. If only there was another way.
"Can you believe how many people are here?" T’anoi's brother Ka’Hor’al whispered. He stood behind her, his warm breath nuzzling her neck as he exhaled in clouded puffs. She loved him as she had once loved T’anoi
, but this was a relationship forged by necessity, and romance was as scarce as life was to T’anoi now.
Without turning to face him she said, "He was loved by many, but love changes like the wind." Her words echoed her own thoughts about how she felt about T’anoi and the dissolving of their relationship over time. T’anoi was a kind soul, but he was also selfish, and the tunnel-vision view he had of the ever-expanding world caused him to think only about himself and never how his actions affected those around him. As Hespha looked around her, she noticed the tear-streaked faces of those closest to her. Some were unfamiliar, but others were part of the assembly that she now controlled. As second-in-command, Hespha had the burden of responsibility to maintain the mission that her organization initially set out. CERCO was more than just a scientific endeavor; it was a political force, a shadow looming over the expanding empire, and one that would seize control of the territories that Greshia consumed in her struggle for superiority.
Ka’Hor’al shivered next to her as a stiff wind cut through the crowd. "I can hardly hear the minister from here," he said.
"I honestly haven't even been paying attention," she replied. "My mind has been wandering for days now. I don't know how to get into Edon’s favor."
"With T’anoi gone, perhaps you will be more persuasive considering we see the world the same way Edon does."
He has a point, she thought as she wrapped her arms tighter around her body to fight away the cold. It was futile. The temperature was harsh, the coldness coursing through her body, and her guilt was almost too much to overcome. Just stick to the plan, she thought. It doesn't matter, whatever has happened is done and I can only control what happens in the future by not damning myself about the past. "I wouldn't be so sure that we're not going to have an uphill battle ahead of us." She felt his hand as he placed it on her shoulder.
