A Shifting Alliance (Galaxy Ascendant Book 3) Read online

  “And what happens if the offensive fails, or if the strike into their territory only hardens their resolve to see this war through to the end?” Chairman Telarius crossed his arms as he went on, his eyes returning to the large holographic tactical display in the center of the room. “And with such limited information, how can we properly plan such a large-scale attack with any serious hope of success?” The display didn’t show a whole lot at the moment, though it could be configured to, and simply showed the boundary lines between Alliance and Imperial space, along with markers of where there had been skirmishes on both sides of the border, and lines showing the travel paths of Alliance forces and likely travel paths of Imperial forces to and from those encounters.

  “We have new intelligence coming in regularly,” Nayasar cut in. “Most recently, Executor Keeneye has learned of a planned attack, a real one, not like these little incursions both we and the Revittans have been making since the battle over the hollow world. This is a perfect opportunity. Mass a force, take them by surprise, and then make a push for key Imperial worlds. Keep the pressure on and don’t let up until the Empire collapses or they sue for peace. Easier said than done, of course, but we do still have the initiative, for the moment, and I think we can all agree that we want this war to be as short and bloodless as possible.” Nayasar eyed the other attendees, trying to gauge their thoughts. Fortunately, it was a small meeting, and not all of the Alliance races were represented; only those relevant to the military campaign were here: Talvostan, Felinaris, Tyrannodon, Snevan, and Legion Navy representatives, along with the chairman and the Advisory Council. There was also a Darvian military representative, though their military was nowhere near recovered from the thrashing it had taken in the war.

  There was another, unspoken reason that she, and her closest allies, wanted this war to be as short as possible. To put it simply, they, and Nayasar in particular, did not have faith that the rest of the Alliance would be able to weather a long war. If it dragged on, morale would sag, they would try and pull out of it to the detriment of the Alliance as a whole, and Nayasar and her allies in particular. She wouldn’t even put it past most of them to try and sell out the Felinaris, Tyrannodons, and their allies to the enemy in exchange for a ceasefire. Both Felivas and Darkclaw did not have such a pessimistic view of the situation, but someone had to, in order for them to be prepared for all scenarios.

  “Something else that must be considered,” the First Scion said, “is what sort of war we plan to fight, assuming, of course, that we do decide to take the fight to the Revittan Empire in a major way. Do we intend to occupy worlds, or simply engage in fleet warfare? This question has been raised before, but always brushed over. We cannot ignore it forever, however. For one, we know even less about the Revittan Empire’s planet-based defenses than we do their fleets, and ground invasions and occupations are a messy, slow business if we intend to actually hold them. There is a good reason why even as they won victory after victory in the last war, the Tyrannodons and their allies generally did not attempt to fully conquer worlds, rather fortifying small positions and relying on space superiority. The longer our war with the Revittan Empire goes, the more likely we will be forced to fight that sort of war if we mean to win—not to mention that we will likely need to face them on our own worlds as well.

  “There has been a great deal of work done in regard to integrating our fleets, and training them to work together, but nothing of the sort has been done with ground or other planet-bound forces, nor has enough work been done to rebuild and reorganize after the losses taken in the war.” He glanced over at Supreme Commander Derrin Carron, who nodded.

  “We are not ready for total war,” he said. “As risky as launching a major, rapid strike would be, I think I have to prefer that to a protracted, slow, and very bloody conflict.”

  The First Scion nodded. “Also, as I’m sure you’re aware, my order is nowhere near the strength it was at during the early stages of the Tyrannodon invasion. We will do what we can if called upon, but we cannot be relied upon as a significant vanguard.”

  “I sounds like we all agree, then,” Nayasar said, seizing the moment. “And before I hear more objections, even the fastest major action we can take will require time to prepare and gather forces, during which I expect more information to come in, thus by the time we make our move, we will have more intelligence on exactly how we should proceed.” She looked over the others, and saw mostly nods, along with thoughtful looks. It certainly seemed like they’d reached a consensus, even if they were not all as in favor of her proposal as she was.

  The chairman, who had been staring quietly, finally nodded. “Understood. I propose we adjourn for now, to allow each of us to coordinate with our command staffs as we begin to set things in motion. Any objections?”

  Nayasar shook her head, and no one said anything.

  “We will reconvene in, say, two hours?” Chairman Telarius said. His eyes, sunken inside his facial plates, radiated satisfaction, and as most of the room voiced their agreement, he deactivated the holographic display and moved to speak with the Talvostan representative and Supreme Commander Carron.

  Nayasar stretched slightly, then approached Executor Shadowpath. “Can I have a word, in private?” she asked quietly.

  “Of course,” he replied, then followed her out of the general conference room and into a smaller, unoccupied office, which contained nothing but a simple desk and computer console, and had the stale smell of a room rarely used.

  “While it’s an encouraging sign that the ‘mainstream’ Alliance leaders back there were willing to agree to my proposal,” Nayasar began as soon as the door was closed, “we need to make separate plans. I’m only speaking about this to you right now, because I know that you and the high executor can reliably keep this quiet. We can, and probably should, include the Snevans and possibly the Daeris as well, but only if we can ensure nothing leaks.” She paused for a moment to collect herself, and to ensure she didn’t just start running her mouth and end up rambling.

  “To put it simply, I don’t know how far we can trust our new friends,” she said, keeping her voice low even though there was no one within earshot. We have to play two games at once here.”

  Shadowpath was quiet for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest, exactly?”

  “We make contingency plans designed to work within the greater plans and strategies we make with the Alliance as a whole. We watch for signs of them trying to pull back support, or worse, and be ready to act. Darkclaw is trying very hard, perhaps too hard, to see the best in them, but I am afraid that he might willfully blind himself to their duplicity. Make sure he is aware of my concerns. I’m not advocating preparing to betray the Alliance; I simply wish to prepare for all scenarios. We are part of the Alliance now, but my first goal always has been, and always will be, to ensure a secure future for my people and our children. I strongly recommend that this be the primary goal of you and your people as well.”

  “Shadowpath nodded. “I understand your concerns, and will pass them on to the high executor, though I am somehow certain he has already heard them. Rest assured, however, that our priority is the safety and future of our own people, as well as yours. You were the first to see us as something other than monsters, and we owe you a debt that can never be fully repaid. Whether our foe is the Revittan Empire, or Alliance weakness, we will be at your side, and if need be, between you and the enemy. But Darkclaw would also not want you to become paranoid, Grand Admiral. It is of course important to plan for the worst, but that does not require us to only see the worst in others. We have more friends within the Alliance than it may seem, and if we are successful in the coming conflict—and if it is your proposal that leads to success—we will find yet more friends.” The tall Tyrannodon placed a large hand on Nayasar’s shoulder. “Let us focus on the immediate enemy for the moment. If we fail to effectively fight that enemy, there will not be an Alliance to worry about.”

  Nayasar nodded. “I u
nderstand, and thank you. I will not stop preparing for possible, devastating eventualities, but I can agree to focus on the Revittans for now.”

  Shadowpath nodded and smiled, an expression that still looked strange on a Tyrannodon even after all this time. “If we are finished here, I will go to inform the high executor of the newest developments, and begin coordinating our forces.”

  Nayasar nodded. “I should be doing the same. There’s only a little bit of time left before we have to talk to everyone again.”

  “Perhaps in the future you should arrange for your mate to attend such meetings in your stead,” Shadowpath suggested. “He seems to hate them less than you do.”

  Nayasar laughed. “I really should, shouldn’t I? I was certainly a bit jealous of Darkclaw back there, for having a reason not to be here. So long as the others won’t see my absence as an insult, I most certainly will pass this burden on to Felivas.”

  Shadowpath nodded. “A wise plan,” he said, then turned and exited the room.

  As the door closed behind him, Nayasar stared at where the Tyrannodon had been standing. She’d spent enough time around Darkclaw to understand him, to anticipate him, to the point that Shadowpath, an ostensibly “normal” Tyrannodon, seemed almost totally alien. But at the same time, the usually quiet observer had solid insight. It was good to know that Darkclaw, too, surrounded himself with capable deputies, especially as given the current situation he, like Nayasar, would not be able to be everywhere, and could not make all of the key decisions that would have to be made quickly.

  Nayasar briefly balled her hands into fists, then relaxed them as she exited the office and began to quickly walk toward the larger office that had been assigned to her and her entourage. Shadowpath was right. The focus had to be on the Revittans, the ones who had forced them into this war, the ones preventing her from having time to spend with Felivas, time to spend starting a family.

  They would pay for that. And even if it required Nayasar to fight alongside people who were tainted by past crimes, she would plug her nose and do it. Less than a year ago, the Galactic Alliance had learned firsthand what determined Felinaris could do, and now, this self-styled empire was going to learn the same painful lesson.

  CHAPTER 5

  For all the differences between the Revittan Empire and the Galactic Alliance, the cantina scene was almost identical—apart from the species that made up the clientele, of course. Loud, upbeat music, bright lights over the dance floor, with dimmer light around the bar area, and, of course, the enlivening scents of various forms of alcohol and… other substances.

  If Ayil was being honest, she had expected something entirely different when she, Dran, and Liya had agreed to spy, or rather “gather information” for the Alliance, she had anticipated a far more, well, stressful time of it. Not that this had been a vacation by any means, but still, here they were, yet again, drinking in a cantina, having fun.

  “Be careful not to drink too much,” Dran said, as though he was reading Ayil’s mind, even as he took another long drink. “We do have work to do, and the more we get done, the sooner we can leave.”

  Ayil nodded as she took another—small—sip of the Revittan whiskey she’d really taken a liking to. They had to buy a bottle or two before they went back to Alliance space. “But when will we know when we’re ‘done’ here?” Ayil asked as she looked around the room, at the Revittans, Nihlurans, Svetorans, Myqar, and others milling about at the bar, booths, and small open area where several patrons were dancing to music being played through oval speakers in the ceiling.

  “Yes, but first we have to find more sources,” Ayil said. “And here I thought the Alliance’s laws were oppressive.” Information in the Revittan Empire was restricted to a ridiculous extent. If they’d been sent to gather general intelligence on the Alliance, a few hours searching on the commNet would’ve given them not only a great deal of information of the peoples, worlds, and government, but also on the military. Nothing classified, of course, but many ship and weapon specs were publicly available, among other information potentially useful if a war was to be fought. Here, there was almost nothing, at least not about the Empire itself. There was plenty of information, verifiable information, about Dullok space, and it made Ayil very glad it wasn’t part of the Empire, at least not in any practical sense. The stories she’d read about the Dullok crime lords and their flunkies made the worst parts of Alliance space seem like children playing at being pirates.

  “We can’t even consider going back until we get them some really useful things,” Liya cut in, thankfully pulling Ayil out of those unpleasant thoughts. “Of course, since they started from zero, anything we send is helpful, but we all know that what they really want is the kind of stuff you get from real spying.”

  “For that, though, we’ll really need to get into more important, central worlds,” Dran replied.

  “And in order to safely do that,” Ayil continued, “we need to know enough to build a viable cover story, I know, I know. But they are counting on us, and this is taking too long. As much as I love hanging out at places like this all the time, we need to be more active, start taking more risks.” Even as she said the words, a part of her mind—a large part of it—nearly went into shock. The Ayil Lotyk of only a few months ago would’ve never said that. Sure, their past activities always involved some risks, but those were always carefully measured, mostly, and the risk had to carry with it the appropriate amount of potential gain. This… would not have cut it.

  Am I turning into a hero?!

  Ayil sighed, then looked around the increasingly crowded cantina again. It was getting late, which meant that in addition to more people, there were more likely to be drunk people, and drunk people were always better marks, whether one was seeking to pocket some cash or ply for information.

  It didn’t take long to spot a tempting target. A male Revittan, energetically dancing next to a female who, if Ayil remembered correctly, she had seen arrive with him. He was a striking figure, and had displayed the best of the Revittan features that Ayil had been drawn to since they first arrived in this alien place. He was tall, with sharp facial features, and the natural red markings on his face were particularly alluring. But most attractive of all was that he was wearing a uniform that marked him as a mid-level officer in the Imperial Revittan Navy. His pretty partner was also wearing a military uniform, but Ayil couldn’t place what her rank or branch was. Whether or not he himself knew anything particularly interesting, he could prove a key to some interesting doors.

  “Alright, well,” Ayil said, turning her gaze back to her companions, “I think it’s time we split up and actually got to work. Meet back up at the motel by morning? Unless we run into trouble, of course.”

  Dran nodded. “I think we should spend maybe another day or two on this world, then move on, before we start attracting too much attention.”

  “So how do you plan on being a productive information procurer tonight?” Liya asked him with a wry grin.

  Dran returned the smile. “Very differently from the two of you, I’d bet. Let’s just say that things here aren’t as secure as they are in the places I’m used to. Don’t worry about me not having any fun.” He finished his drink, rose from his seat, and gave them a mock salute. “See you in the morning. And remember, don’t bring anyone to the room.”

  “So,” Ayil said, leaning on her sister’s shoulder, “spotted someone nice?”

  Liya grinned. “Naturally. And I suppose you found the trashiest person in the room, as per usual?”

  Ayil sniffed, and punched Liya in the shoulder. “It’s not my fault you consider fun people ‘trashy’. You always were the boring one.”

  “And here I thought we were supposed to be identical,” Liya snapped back. “Lucky for me, we’re not. Now, how about we make a little bet. Whoever gets the most useful information out of tonight pays for all the drinks next time, and admits to Dran that she lost?”

  “I look forward to hearing your admission,”
Ayil said, then rose and left the table, drink in hand. She wasn’t about to give Liya a chance to fight for the last word.

  She took one glance over at her sister, who seemed to have already shifted her attention to her target, a handsome Revittan wearing a jacket bearing the logo of the Empire’s state-run communications company.

  Ayil downed the rest of her whiskey, slammed the glass down on the bar, undid another two buttons on her shirt, then made a beeline for her Revittan couple, who were still dancing with the kind of energy that Ayil’s keen eyes—and experience around the inebriated—could only belong to people who had been drinking a fair amount. The young officer was probably lucky none of his superiors were here.

  Ayil gracefully slipped past a couple of very attractive Svetorans and a smooth-skinned, four-fingered, mouthless Diraas, and sidled up to the Revittan couple as she began to poorly mimic the writhing that passed for dancing in this part of the galaxy. There wasn’t much pressure, at least, when everyone was on the drunk spectrum. Ayil laughed at the image the thought conjured up, as well as at the fact that she was sure someone, somewhere would one day use it to make some stupid sociological argument.

  The laugh drew the attention of the Revittans, and Ayil flashed them her best smile. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, taking extra care to exaggerate her accent. It hadn’t failed her yet. Neither had her pheromones. Without waiting for an answer, she got even closer to the couple, to the point where she was practically right up against the male.

  “I love the uniform,” she whispered into his pointed ear, “and your chosen company,” she added, eyes moving along with his to his companion. Ayil reached out and ran her hand through the female’s long dark hair. There were definitely good genes in both of them; her species, or at least the Alliance branch of them, had been missing out all this time, apparently.