A Shifting Alliance (Galaxy Ascendant Book 3)

by Yakov Merkin

  “Nothing obvious,” Dran replied, “but let’s see if he’s listening.” He opened a channel on the specific frequency the informant had mentioned. “Anyone there? We have work to do,” he said.

  A few moments later, something began to beep as a text message began to come in.

  I am here.

  “Okay…” Dran replied. “How about you send us the information, and we can all be on our way?”

  Too much of a risk to transmit. It must be delivered in person.

  Ayil saw Dran’s eyes narrow, and he gritted his teeth. So she jumped in.

  “Fine, then. Tell us where to meet you.”

  Sending coordinates.

  “Thank you, we will be there shortly,” Ayil replied, then closed the channel.

  “I don’t like this,” Dran said.

  “Neither do I, but what choice is there? If nothing else, we just very much confirmed that this is one of those robot people. No normal person would be so direct and brief.”

  “We just received the location, as well as docking instructions and landing codes,” said Liya.

  “Well that is good. But why has no one from the station contacted us?” Ayil asked. This was far too creepy.

  “I just did a quick search,” Dran said, “and it seems that this was built as a waypoint for travelers and as a neutral place for people to make deals. The docking systems and most of the station, really, is fully automated.”

  “Creepy,” Liya said, echoing Ayil’s thoughts.

  “Well, we apparently have no choice, so I think two of us will go meet this mystery man, while one of us stays with the ship, ready in case the whole plan explosively decompresses.”

  “I’ll stay,” Liya said immediately. She was always quick with things like this.

  “Fine,” Dran said. “Take us in. Ayil, let’s get ready.”

  Ayil followed Dran deeper into the ship, where they put on body armor and readied weapons. Even if things weren’t so creepy, it would be important to be prepared.

  A few minutes later, the Lark docked, and Ayil and Dran entered the quiet, dimly lit, musty-smelling station, and moved toward the meeting point. Ayil just prayed that this wouldn’t take long.

  Finally, they saw him, the strange-looking robotic figure standing in the middle of the hallway. “You have the information?” Ayil asked.

  “I do,” the Gurshen replied, though what Ayil found the most odd was that his head was constantly twitching slightly, as though he was trying to keep track of everything around him. As though he was… nervous. That thought only made Ayil want to get out of there even more badly.

  The Gurshen held out a data disk. “I have acquired information on the events surrounding the start of this war, information which could greatly aid the cause of those resisting the Empire,” he said. “But more important, and more crucial I have discovered that the Empire plans to move its new superweapon imminently, to use against the Galactic Alliance in battle. It must be stopped, or the war may be over in a matter of days. You must get this to those who can act on it as soon as possible.”

  Ayil felt her heart skip a beat as she nodded and took the disk. “Thank you, um, what is your name?”

  “TR—you can call me Triad,” he said.

  “Well, Triad,” Dran said, “I think it would be best for all of us if we got out of here—”

  Heavy footfalls, the sound of running, echoed down the hallways.

  Triad’s head snapped toward the sound. “Run!” He said loudly.

  The three of them sprinted away from the approaching people, though that took them away from the Lark.

  “Liya, we might need a space pickup,” Ayil said into the comm as she checked to make sure she still had the armor suit’s helmet.

  They ran randomly through empty hallways, while the sound of pursuit came toward them from multiple directions now, until they reached an empty hangar.

  “Keep going,” Triad said, “I will seal the door.”

  Ayil followed Dran to an emergency airlock at the far end of the room, and then inside the first section, while Dran donned his helmet.

  The door to the hangar burst open before Triad could seal it, and Imperial troopers swarmed in. In moments, Triad was on the ground being restrained, while troopers began advancing toward Ayil’s position.

  She began to fire at them, and ducked inside the airlock as they fired back,

  “Ayil, get your helmet on, we have to go!” Dran shouted.

  Ayil took one last look at Triad, who was secured and watched by a half-dozen troopers, then put on her helmet, holstered her pistol, and wrapped herself around Dran, who held a manual thruster in his hand.

  With the push of a lever, the airlock opened into space, and they were blown out.

  She clung tightly to him as they tumbled for a time before Dran, with the aid of the thruster, got them back under control and maneuvered them to the waiting River Lark.

  “Are you alright?” Liya asked once they were inside.

  “We’re fine, and we have the information,” Ayil said.

  “Great, so let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Ayil shook her head. “The informant, he was captured by Imperials. They must’ve been trailing him, and our arrival is what got them to move in. We can’t just leave him; it’s probably because of our presence that they got him.”

  “Ayil,” Liya said with a sigh, “how could we do that? There are only three of us, and besides, he knew what he was getting into.”

  Ayil shook her head. “I know, I know, but we owe him. He held them off for us. Who knows what they’ll do to him?” It simply wouldn’t be right to abandon him.

  “We’ve got another problem,” Dran said, his eyes locked on a viewport. “Revittan fighters, coming in. Girls, get to the guns; I’ll get the helm, and start sending this data to our rebel friends. Then we’ll see what we can do for the robot.”

  Ayil ran to the dorsal turret and immediately began to fire at the incoming fighters. For now, there were six on scanners, but the Empire always seemed to operate in much bigger groups.

  “Tell me you have a plan to get us out of this and help the Gurshen,” Ayil called.

  “I am working on it. Just keep firing!”

  These damn fighters were frustratingly fast, and small.

  Ayil found herself almost snarling at them as she spun the cannons, struggling to catch them.

  Finally, two of them turned too slowly, and several blasts from the cannons tore through them as Liya’s turret took out another. Only three left.

  Then, another twelve appeared on the small targeting display.

  “Dran!” Ayil shouted through the internal comm.

  “I see them, woman! Just make sure both of you are strapped in. I have a plan, but it is not going to be smooth. Will probably mess up the new paint.”

  Ayil decided she didn’t want to know what he was planning, and focused on firing.

  She felt the Lark lurch sharply, and through the turret Ayil could see them heading directly for the station. She gritted her teeth, but resisted the urge to ask Dran what the hell he was doing. He knew, and distracting him would probably not be a good idea. So she spun the turret and fired wildly at the pursuing fighters as the ship began to shake, and an alarm warning of low shields began to blare.

  Ayil then saw a large explosion from the station engulf them, and then both heard and felt a terrible scraping noise as she was violently thrown forward, only kept in place by the safety straps.

  Then, they stopped, and all the power went out.

  “Um, Dran?” Ayil called.

  “We’re alright. I think. Power is off so they won’t find us with a standard scan.”

  “What did you do, though?” Ayil asked as she climbed down and joined Dran and Liya in the cockpit.

  Dan smirked. “flew at the station, fired at it, and ejected a bunch of junk. Then I squeezed us through the hole I made, and we are now docked under the station.”

  “Very risky.” />
  “That’s why I didn’t tell you before.”

  “My heart thanks you, my love,” Ayil said with a roll of her eyes.

  “I don’t want to see how the outside of the ship looks, do I?” Liya asked with a glance up.

  “No.”

  “So, now what?” Ayil asked.

  “We wait a bit to be sure they aren’t still looking for us, then go save our mechanical friend.”

  CHAPTER 46

  Triad did not resist as the troopers led him through the station’s empty hallways in silence. He was not a fighter, and he had not decided to become such a criminal as to download combat programs or weapon designs. Perhaps he should have.

  He similarly did not try and ask anything of his captors. They would likely ignore him if he did, anyway, in no small part due to the fact that most Revittans did not truly consider Gurshen to be living beings, but also because they simply had no reason to answer any questions. What he did know for certain was that he would not be killed. His death, and his life signature’s disappearance from the Collective would prompt an investigation that the Empire could not afford. At the same time, however, the Empire could not hold a public trial, as that would potentially allow Triad to reveal what he had learned.

  He hoped the rebels had gotten away. It was clear now that the Empire had become aware of his actions, and had planned to entrap both him and his contact here. And while he had managed to successfully pass off the information to the rebels, even if they did escape, word would likely not get to his people. Should he have gone there first?

  Concerning himself with what he perhaps should have done was not productive, however costly his failure would be, so Triad focused his processing attention on where he was being taken, and how he might return to his ship should he escape.

  A short time later, he was shoved into a small, empty room, and the door sealed behind him.

  He immediately tried sending a communication signal to his ship, but as expected, all forms of communication were blocked, either simply by the thickness of the walls, or through some more advanced method.

  His life signal was certainly still powerful enough to get through, or else the Empire risked the Collective investigating his apparent death. Just then, an idea sparked into being. If he destroyed himself, his life signal’s disappearance would prompt that investigation.

  However, Triad did not wish to cease to exist, so he resolved to contemplate other solutions first.

  After activating the light on his remote unit, Triad examined the door and area around it, seeking a control panel, or anything that could grant him access to electronics. However, it quickly became clear that this was a completely manual door, and nothing he had at his disposal could hope to open or destroy it.

  Without a better option, Triad ran a diagnostic to determine the quickest and most efficient way of terminating himself, so that he would not feel himself shutting down, and so that he would not be able halt the process mid-way out of a desire not to cease.

  Just as the diagnostic finished, however, he picked up on muffled sounds coming from beyond his prison cell. Sounds of shouting, running, and… weapons fire.

  Triad approached the door, which slid open a few moments later, revealing the two Nihlurans he had met earlier, plus a third. They were heavily armed, and several dead troopers littered the floor.

  “You alright?” Asked the male.

  Triad nodded. “I am undamaged. Thank you for the assistance.”

  One of the females, the one he had spoken with earlier, smiled behind her helmet’s clear visor. “Rescue is a more accurate term, I think. But we have to go. There are more troopers, and there is no backup.”

  “We are not even soldiers,” added the other female, likely the twin of the first. “So it’s lucky we were able to get this far. Our ship isn’t far, let’s go.”

  “My ship is nearby as well,” Triad replied, “and I must return to my people. However, a small… distraction would be welcome.” He tilted his head slightly.

  “Oh, that we can certainly manage,” the first female said as she picked up a handgun one of the troopers had dropped. “You may need this,” she said as she held the weapon out.

  Triad hesitated. He had never so much as touched a weapon, let alone accepted one with the intent of using it. For a Gurshen to do so was completely forbidden. However, he had broken so many Imperial laws already; one more would change little.

  He accepted the weapon, and nodded. “Thank you, and may you stay safe.”

  Abruptly, they turned toward the sound of heavy running. “Go!” Shouted the first female. “We will keep them busy.”

  Triad did not waste any time, and immediately increased his pace toward where his ship was docked.

  He heard a loud explosion, and weapons fire behind him, which was likely part of the reason he did not see any troopers in his immediate path, though his advanced audio receptors did pick up the sound of those approaching.

  Shortly before the hangar, Triad saw that he was just beside the station’s power room. After a millisecond of calculation, he entered the unoccupied room and severed the power supply from the station’s system. Immediately, the lights dimmed, and the emergency generator only maintained the artificial gravity along with most likely life support. Communications, as well as any weapons or tractor beams the station might have, would be inoperable for long enough.

  He reached the hangar a minute later, only to see a pair of troopers waiting at its entrance.

  “Don’t move, Gurshen,” one of them ordered as they both leveled weapons on him. However, they either had not noticed the weapon in his hand, or did not believe he would use it.

  Could he?

  After a brief hesitation, Triad raised the weapon and fired several times into each of their heads.

  They collapsed immediately, and Triad hurried past, deliberately not checking if he had, in fact, killed them.

  Fortunately, the ship was still in the docking bay, and apparently unharmed. Triad sprinted for it, boarded, and closed the cockpit just as several more troopers arrived. They were too late, however.

  He powered up the ship, and, after overriding the station’s security, shot out into space. Scanners registered several fighters inbound, but Triad was not as slow to act as an organic pilot, and successfully plotted the hyperspace jumps that would take him home, to the Collective, in moments.

  He made the first jump just as they opened fire.

  CHAPTER 47

  “Ten minutes to arrival,” the Sarcendar’s helm officer announced.

  “All hands to battle stations,” Darkclaw broadcast to the ship.

  Months of war, and planning, and positioning, and it would all come down to a single, massive engagement. Everything was in place; Darkclaw reviewed the coded messages sent from the different elements of the fleet, indicating that all was ready. All of the false leads had been planted as well, with several Imperial targets that were near where they knew Alliance fleets had been. In short, everything had gone well. Perhaps too well. True, after the Imperial fleet under Sai’var had finally taken losses to the Alliance’s new tactics, they had been fighting more effectively again—but still losing.

  The fleet could very well be jumping into a trap right now. But at this point, they had committed so much, and with the cohesion of the Alliance riding on their success here, there was no superior option to triggering whatever trap was laid, and hoping that their own strength and contingency plans would be enough to win the day. The cost might well be high, but that would be worth ending the war.

  “Three minutes, High Executor.”

  Darkclaw sent a brief missive informing the rest of the joint fleet, and received several in return. There was no turning back now.

  “Activate tactical display,” he ordered as the moment grew closer, and he prepared himself for the immense task of coordinating the largest battle of his life.

  Then, with a slight shudder, the Sarcendar, and the rest of Darkclaw’s fleet, dro
pped out of hyperspace. On the display, Darkclaw noted the arrival of the rest of the Alliance’s first wave.

  And before them, the Imperial capital world of Ilvaness, a beautiful blue-green sphere surrounded by the menacing, jagged shapes of Revittan ships and orbital defenses, the latter of which were protected by the planet’s shield, invisible to the naked eye but not the tactical display.

  It was impossible to tell exactly, but it very much appeared to be almost the entirety of the Revittan fleet assembled here. They were ready. The Alliance was ready. And this battle would determine what sort of war this would be remembered as; a short, brutal conflict, or a long, painful, and bloody struggle that might never end.

  Darkclaw checked once more to be sure that everything was in place, then opened a channel to the entire Alliance fleet.

  “All forces, this is High Executor Darkclaw. Execute Operation: Endgame. This war ends today.”

  He nodded to the Sarcendar’s helm operator, and the flagship, at the head of the thousands-strong fleet, advanced.

  So it begins.

  CHAPTER 48

  As her fleet sped into battle, Nayasar remained conscious of three things. The battle itself, unfolding and escalating in front of her, Darkclaw’s position at the head of the Alliance’s main attack force, and that of Felivas, commanding the portion of the Felinaris fleet off Nayasar’s port side—but she didn’t need the tactical display to know where he was.

  “Focus fire on their port flank,” Nayasar ordered her portion of the fleet. As soon as they broke a large enough hole in the enemy formation, and dealt with the static defenses, they would move to engage a portion of the enemy fleet at point blank range, using Felivas’s small unit tactics.

  Nayasar opened a channel to Felivas. “Felivas, is your force ready to breach the shield?”

  “Beginning our attack now,” he replied, and Nayasar saw on the display his force reach the shield, then slip through as specialized weapons disrupted a section of it. They would now be able to assault the orbital platforms directly, and save the rest of the fleet a great deal of hardship.