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  “We will have four army platoons accompanying us, enough to take any pirate base,” the Ship Master said.

  “And what about ships?” she asked.

  “I am confident that Erebus can handle anything.”

  Ryaana knew from the reports that the pirates had never shown to have any modern warship. Their fleets consisted out of retrofitted merchant vessels, and occasionally they would show up with an outdated class of Empire or Erasi ships, but those were very old ships. There was a huge gap between a pirate ship and current military vessels—they were not even in the same league, but they could still possess strength in numbers. Erebus had the newest Empire technology, but it was also barely the size of a frigate. Its advanced technology should have no problem of keeping its presence from the pirates, but she didn’t like going in without any information about what they would find there.

  But she knew that they would have to act. There would be no coming back and brining proof that would then bring the fleets down on the pirates. The Empire was bound by treaties to inform the Nauira about it and ask permission to enter their territory. Which the Nauira would refuse for the sake of spite alone, and if they were somehow involved with the pirates… Ryaana shook herself. No—they would need to cut off the snake’s head, alone. A surgical strike with a single ship.

  “Very well then, Ship Master; Inquisitor. By my authority as a Sentinel, I am authorizing the mission in Nauira territory.”

  ***

  Aranis walked slowly through corridors of the strange ship. He had been given a small berth with a few of the crew. He didn’t complain, as he had what he wanted: a chance to interact with the people who had knowledge that he sought. So far, however, he hadn’t seen or heard anything that could give him an exact idea of just what the Empire’s ships were capable of.

  Finally, Aranis reached a door that led to the ship’s training room. He had visited it previously to observe the ship’s crew training with the Sha. He hadn’t been all that impressed; most of them were weak, far below the average of the People. A few had been somewhat stronger, but none enough for him to take an interest.

  Until a few hours ago, when he had felt a very powerful presence come on board the ship, far more powerful than any he had encountered in the Empire. Whoever it was held a great amount of power. Aranis looked at the closed doors leading to the training room, and he could feel Sha being used inside. Slowly, he used his wrist-unit and entered.

  The person inside stood still in the center of the room as metal globes twirled around them. Aranis had seen the others do that, and upon asking he had been told that the goal was to train control. The most that he had seen someone handle was two globes at the same time. There were twenty spinning around the person at the same time, all in different orbits and moving at different speeds. Then as soon as Aranis stepped inside, every single globe froze in the air, and the person keeping them suspended in the air turned around to look at him.

  Everyone in this Empire wore skintight suits, and Aranis could clearly see that this person was a female. Her hair was short and black, and by the color of her skin he could tell that she was a Shara Daim. The third race that Axull Darr created. She was the first one he had encountered in person—Vas had never seen one before, nor had the first person whom he had stolen memories from.

  “Do you wish to train?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “I didn’t know that someone was already here. I’ll come back later,” Aranis said.

  “Wait,” she said, and started walking toward him, her eyes narrowed as she stood in front of him and studied him. For a moment Aranis feared that somehow she could see what he truly was, and he prepared to act.

  “You are not part of the crew,” she said finally.

  Aranis relaxed. “No. I am with the inquisitors.”

  “Ah… I remember, I read about you in the report. Vasily, right?”

  “Vas,” Aranis said, and took the time to study her in turn.

  “I’m Ryaana.”

  “You are Shara Daim?” Aranis asked—the question was, after all, in line with who Vasily was.

  “Half,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I’m half Shara Daim, and half Human,” she answered with a slight smile.

  “I apologize, I meant no offense. I’ll leave you to your training.”

  She tilted her head at him and her smile grew bigger. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

  Aranis froze. Am I supposed to know? He quickly went back through the memories available to him. There was nothing in them to tell him who this person was.

  “No,” Aranis said slowly, watching her closely.

  Suddenly, she laughed. “That’s so refreshing! I can’t remember the last time this has happened.”

  Aranis looked at her in confusion, keeping still.

  “You wanted to train? Come, I need a training partner.”

  Before Aranis could refuse, she grabbed and pulled him forward.

  Several hours later, Aranis lay in the berth assigned to him. To anyone looking at him he would seem completely asleep. But his mind was wide awake. The short training session had proven…enlightening. Aranis had of course pretended to be at the level believable for someone like Vasily, and had taken great care to conceal his power. Regardless, he couldn’t help but feel like he had shown too much. Something about his training partner made him want to show more than he knew would be wise. It had been a risk—his training partner was very powerful—but he had also learned a lot. There was an elegance to her use of the Sha that he wouldn’t have believed possible. He was now certain that she was more powerful than he had been when he had still called himself Waiss. But she had nowhere near the power nor the mastery of it that he possessed now, of course. She did however have tremendous control for someone of her power.

  And his contact with her turned out extremely advantageous. Afterward he had done some research and found out that Ryaana was the daughter of two of the most influential people both in the Empire and the Shara Daim. Exactly what he had been looking for. Now he only needed to attach himself to her side, and eventually he would get a true picture of what kind of a threat the children of Axull Darr truly were.

  Thankfully, she had insisted that he remain her training partner for the duration of their mission.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two weeks later; July—Josanti League border sector

  Alliooppaastori, High Venesar of the Josanti, was having a good day. The taxes for this half a cycle had been paid in full and with no need for him to send the enforcers to remind the errant systems of the law—a first for the Nassanti sector. It was why the Great Council had appointed him in this backwater sector of their grand nation, on the borders with primitive races not even worth Josanti attention. Alliooppaastori had the knack for turning troublesome sectors into productive areas of the Josanti. He had spent many full cycles doing the same thing in many such sectors, and all had been considered on par with the sectors in the core after he had finished his job.

  And after he finished with this system, he just knew that his deserved reward would finally be granted to him. To be an administrator of a core system—the jewels of the Josanti and envy of all other star-nations. He could already imagine it: he, who had been born in the outer sectors, and had risen through the ranks on his ability alone, overcoming his innate handicap to become an equal of the core-born. His tentacles twitched at the excitement he felt for the future.

  A soft chime interrupted his musings and his aide walked in on his four leg tentacles. “High Venesar,” he started, “the Empire’s ambassador is here to see you.”

  Alliooppaastori’s mood immediately dropped. He had forgotten that he had a meeting scheduled with the cursed primitive. For a moment he considered telling his aide to send the ambassador away, but decided against it. It would not do for someone as exalted as him to act in such a way, even toward a primitive.

  “Very well,” he told his aide.

  The Empir
e’s ambassador walked in, and once again Alliooppaastori studied it—her. He always forgot that it was a female of its species. Unlike his own race, the Oovaa, the genders of the humans, as they called themselves, resembled each other very much. This was not the case for the Oovaa, where the difference was clear immediately: the males had eight tentacles plus four for use in movement, and the females had six plus four. How the humans were able to tell which gender was which baffled him.

  “High Venesar,” the ambassador greeted him.

  “Ambassador Aileen,” Alliooppaastori greeted her in return, making sure that his smell flaps were closed. Humans had a very strong odor. “Please, take a seat.”

  The Ambassador walked to his desk and awkwardly took a seat on the adaptive foam. Alliooppaastori chuckled inwardly. The human couldn’t even sit properly, its legs dangling over above the floor.

  “What can I do for you, Ambassador?” he asked, even though he already knew.

  “I wanted to see if you’ve reconsidered your stance?”

  “As I said to you the last time, the Josanti are not in the practice of allowing foreign ships through our territory. You are more than welcome to visit the delegated trading systems.”

  “We are willing to pay in currency, resources, or technology.”

  Alliooppaastori almost laughed out loud. The arrogance! That such primitives believed they had anything that could be valuable to the Josanti, they who had ruled the core of the galaxy for a length of time incomprehensible to them. He remembered when this Empire had first made contact barely a full cycle ago. Their ship had the technology that allowed for faster-than-light travel through normal space, something that not many races ever achieved. Alliooppaastori was willing enough to admit that was impressive, but nothing else about them could be called that. They used metals to build their ships. Metals! No race of the Josanti had used such antiquated materials in their shipbuilding for a long, long time.

  And there was no craft in their build, as everything from their ship to its support craft was ugly. Sharp lines, plates of metal, and weapons—there was no artistry, no beauty. Everything about them irritated his senses. Oh, he had heard tales of their Empire, far away toward the rim where Josanti did not care to go. Tales of a great Empire with technology far ahead of their neighbors. That only told him about the state of all those other races, if they believed this Empire advanced. And he did heard tales of their Fleet-killer ships, and he laughed at absurdity of such a thing. No, there was nothing that they could offer to the Josanti League, nor was there any chance of their ships passing through Josanti territory.

  Especially since they stated that they wished to find the black ships. Alliooppaastori shivered at the thought—he remembered the stories he heard as a child of black unstoppable ships and the countless they had wiped out. Thankfully, they were far away from Josanti territory, even though word of them had reached their people. Allowing these primitives to go and provoke them was never going to happen.

  “My previous decision stands,” he said at last. “Passage through our territory will not happen. You can go to one of our many planets designated for embassies or trade—escorted, of course, and set up an embassy. You could then appeal our foreign affairs organization, but the answer will be the same.”

  The ambassador studied him, but Alliooppaastori could not discern anything from her alien expressions.

  “Very well, High Venesar,” she said after a time. “I will not take any more of your time.”

  “Of course. Be well, Ambassador.”

  As soon as she left, Alliooppaastori put her and her Empire out of his mind. He had better things to do than to dwell on primitives.

  ***

  Sentinel Aileen entered the ready room on her ship, enraged. Before the meeting she’d still had some small hope that she would be able to convince the High Venesar to allow the Empire passage through their territory. Now she knew that there was no chance of it. The Josanti were arrogant to an extreme she had never seen before, not even with the Ra’a’zani. They believed that all outside of the core were primitive and not worth their time. She had encountered the same even in their civilian branches. Traders would not even look at their technology, so assured they were of their supremacy.

  Aileen could admit that they were advanced, as much as the Empire in many aspects at least based on what she had seen. But such complete disregard for those outside of themselves was something that she had not believed existed. And so she had failed in her mission. Lord Sentinel had tasked her with finding a safe route to the territory of the machines, to the borders that contained the Enlightened. Passing through the core would have been the shortest route, especially if they had managed to activate the access points along the way.

  But now she would be forced to seek a route around the Josanti, which would add years to the trip. The machines that Ullax Darr had created were on the other side of the galactic core. And the Josanti controlled the core—they held a truly ridiculous amount of territory. She was tempted to try and force her way through, to show them how primitive her ship truly was, but she was not about to provoke one of the more powerful nations that the Empire had encountered.

  She sat down in her chair and sighed. There was no point in staying here. Her mission was not here, not anymore. Other Sentinels would come here and establish embassies, and perhaps they would have better luck than her. Aileen needed to find another route, and that meant leaving Josanti territory.

  She opened a galactic map and started planning her next move.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Several months later—En route to Krashin territory

  The Herald of War exited the trans-lane and entered the Hasre-controlled system. Adrian sighed in relief as they had finally reached their destination. He remembered when they had reached the Vurta-controlled access point and had slowly exited the star’s corona. In a blink of the eye they had went from the heart of the Orion Spur to the edge of the Perseus Arm, almost thirty-five thousand light years away. The advantages of having an access point. The Vurta were the only race that was not the part of the alliance that had access to one—save for the Ullax’s machines, of course. It was the price that the Vurta had asked for turning on their longtime neighbor, the Erasi. And they had been smart—they didn’t allow the alliance to activate those inside the heart of their territory, but instead they had chosen one that was just at the edge of their territory in the space between the Perseus Arm and the Outer Arm.

  Over the years trade between the alliance and the Vurta had skyrocketed, and the system had become one of the larger trading hubs in this area of space. It was the easiest part of their trip. The hard part of their journey had been to cross to the Outer Arm and the territory of the Hasre, the star-nation that neighbored with the Krashin. Before contacting the Krashin, Adrian wanted as much information as possible, and that meant going to those who shared a border with them.

  The alliance had very little contact with the Hasre, and most of their contact was through the Vurta and the Vurta trading system. Occasionally Hasre ships would arrive for trade from their territory, which was some three thousand light years away. A long way without an access point. Thankfully they had trans-lane maps for the area, purchased from the Vurta. Still it took them several months to get here.

  Adrian remembered the Herald of War rising up from the corona in the Vurta territory, and the reactions of the system’s inhabitants. A couple of the smaller ships had turned from their headings and started going in the opposite direction. Adrian smiled—there had been ships of many races and star-nations here that had never seen or heard about the Empire. Seeing a Sovereign had been a real shock for them. He could imagine that their passing through would be talked about for a long time.

  Now he wondered what the reaction of the Hasre would be. The Hasre knew that they were arriving, but they didn’t know that they would arrive in a Sovereign; Adrian didn’t even know if they knew what a Sovereign was. Hasre territory was very far away from the Empire’s.<
br />
  Adrian was sitting in the fleet command chair of the ship. Around him the command crew sat and worked. Technology had advanced a lot, and every ship in the Empire’s military was now commanded by control interfaces—a hybrid system, utilizing both the Empire’s Watchtower interface technology and the People’s telepathic interface. The People’s interface was a powerful tool, but one that only they could use to its fullest. Very few people in the Empire could handle the drain that the interface put on one’s mind. It was simply not designed for human, Nel, or Shara Daim brains. Even Adrian, who could use it the longest, couldn’t exactly reach its full potential.

  So they had designed a new system. The ships of the People were controlled by a single person—the Empire took another approach. The control interface spread the drain and load on the brain by splitting up control among several people, and by using both the telepathic and the implant-based interfaces. Four people controlled the weapons systems, one was the pilot, one was the communications officer, and two operated the scanners. There was one more interface delegated to command and intended to be used by the fleet commander, similar to the control boards that the Empire had used for a long time.

  Commander Ruiss acted as the ship’s pilot. She was in overall command of the ship when there wasn’t a fleet commander on board. She turned to look at Adrian, who was sitting just behind her. No one was using their control interfaces right now—they were relying on more conventional controls to move the ship. There was no need for the use of the advanced systems outside of combat.

  “We are being hailed, Lord Sentinel,” the communications officer said. “It’s coming from a Hasre patrol ship.”

  “Very well, put it through.”

  A hologram came to life in the center of the room, and a fairly frightened-looking Hasre appeared. Hasre were biped, tall and lithe with faces that looked like a Bonnet macaque monkey’s, with a large, red-haired mane framing their head. They were another of the species that had been more heavily shaped by the People. The similarities allowed Adrian to gauge the alien’s expression far more accurately.