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  Her mother stood and walked over to Ryaana, then reached slowly around her and embraced her. In a confused panic, Ryaana looked over her mother’s shoulder at her father, who just smiled at her. Then after a moment she returned her mother’s embrace.

  “I am truly sorry for the way things have become between us,” her mother whispered in her ear. “I promise that I will do better.”

  “Me, too,” Ryaana whispered back.

  Chapter Five

  Clan Kazalir territory—colony world Santis

  Quas sat in his command chair on board the Erebus as the ship dropped out of hyperspace and into the system. “Report,” he said.

  “Nothing on long-range scans. The system is clear—we’ve got a link with the colony,” Hassal said.

  “Let them know that we will be reaching orbit soon, and that the Hand will be on their way,” Quas replied.

  Hassal opened a channel to the colony and informed them of Erebus’s arrival.

  “Skim us to the planet,” Quas ordered. “And let the Inquisitors know that we will be in orbit soon.”

  ***

  Jacob and Nkiruka sat in the Erebus’s shuttle as it took them down to the surface. Both of them had taken their trunks with extra gear with them down to the colony, as they would be staying on the surface as they conducted their investigation. Jacob had already read up on the incident, and the lone survivor, Vasily.

  The man was in his late twenties, and his Sha rating was below average overall—low on telepathy, slightly above average in telekinesis. Served two years in the Kazalir army before getting out and joining the colony program. He was supposed to serve as a hunter and general security for the colony until it was developed enough for the Kazalir enforcement to build an office.

  The report on the pirates was a bit lacking, but Jacob had learned long ago to wait until after he spoke with a person of interest before forming any opinions. The man had lost a friend—it wasn’t strange that his report wasn’t as expansive as it should be. Jacob and Nkiruka would find the truth, as they always did.

  “We’ll be landing soon, Inquisitors,” their pilot informed them. Once down, they were met by the colony leader who offered to take them to the rooms they had set aside for them.

  “Thank you, but no. We would like to start our investigation immediately. If there is a pirate presence on this world, it is of utmost priority that we find them. We would like to speak with the survivor,” Nkiruka said.

  The colony leader nodded, as if he had already anticipated the request. “Of course. I’ll send you the coordinates of his home, and of the quarters we set aside for you.”

  A moment later they received them through their implants. “Thank you, colony leader,” Jacob said.

  The man nodded. “Every member of the colony is at your disposal. Now, if you will excuse, me I have several appointments,” he said, and left them.

  For Jacob and Nkiruka, this was work as usual—so they started making their way through the small colony toward the house of their person of interest.

  ***

  Aranis waited patiently inside the home of the person whose identity he had taken, playing the role of a person who had lost a close friend. He had most of Vasily’s memories, although most were just faded images, words and terms that he knew but didn’t understand, and only Vasily’s most important memories were especially vivid. It was extremely hard to take memories from another living being; it was not just about power, but skill. And Aranis had never really been good at mind Sha. The innate defenses of the mind were too formidable; if a being knew what you were doing, you would get almost nothing. It was why Aranis had chosen to take the memories while his target was weak and dying. But that also meant that he wouldn’t be able to get everything, and only the most recent memories would be clear. Aranis had spent all of his time since he had taken them practicing, so that he could act in the same way that Vasily had acted.

  Aranis had spent a long time observing, watching the many races that had emerged since him and the others last went to slumber. What he saw saddened him, so much potential wasted. He had taken his time while he traveled from the Enlightened territory toward the part of the galaxy where the people Axull had created resided. Watching from afar, judging the threats they posed.

  None had been worthy of worry. And then when he had arrived at his destination, he had seen the creations of his once best friend’s final attempt to stop the Enlightened. He still remembered the moment that he and the others felt Axull pass through the Sha, all connections that bound his body disappearing. Seeing his children, he had wondered if perhaps they had been wrong. But no—Axull was dead, and the only thing that was left were the abominations he had created. They had reminded him so much of the People, of what he once was, that at times it almost hurt. But over the long years of his observation he had seen just how truly different they were.

  On their face, they were the same as the other races in the galaxy. But they had the technology of the People, and no matter how far beyond that the Enlightened had advanced, Aranis had wanted to know just how large of a threat they truly were. After all, they had been created by Axull, and Aranis had nothing but respect for his old friend’s abilities.

  A chime at the doors of his—or rather, Vasily’s—quarters, brought him out of his meditation, and he stood up and made his way toward the doors, taking the time to bring Vasily’s facade to the forefront. He opened the door and greeted the two people standing there. From Vasily’s memories and his own observations he knew that they were a part of the Hand of the Empire: the organization that enforced the laws across all the clans of the Empire.

  “Hello,” Aranis-as-Vasily said. “You finally got here.”

  “We’ve arrived as soon as possible, Mr. Vasily,” the one in the lead said, his voice coming out of his suit modulated, but from their builds he could see that one in the lead was a male and the other a female. Aranis gently drew the tendrils of his mind across theirs, judging their moods. He had planned this for a long time, had waited for the right opportunity and the right person. Vasily had been perfect. He was one of a few very rare people whose bodies rejected the implants that all the people in the Empire wore; Aranis himself obviously couldn’t get such an implant, nor did he have any desire to copy one.

  His first attempt at infiltrating the Empire some sixty years prior had ended poorly. Once he had taken the place of a person and disposed of the body, he had returned to the group, only to be found out immediately. He had targeted a small military outpost at the coreward border of the Empire as he had wanted to quickly gain access to the information he was looking for; it hadn’t worked out as he intended. Apparently their implants had served both as an aid in everyday life and as a form of identification. The rest of the soldiers knew immediately that something was wrong, and Aranis had been forced to kill every living person in the outpost.

  He had planned his next attempt very carefully. He went to the few worlds where non-Empire races were allowed to inhabit, where most of the trade between the Empire and other star-states occurred. There he learned that a small number of the people in the Empire, mainly humans, rejected the implants, and were forced to use wrist units instead. It had cost him time, but he had found a way in, and he had obtained the information about the people who didn’t have implants and chose the one most suitable for his need. It had been a stroke of luck that Vasily had gotten into trouble—it had allowed Aranis to come in at the end of his life and step in with little to raise suspicion.

  Aranis tilted his head as he withdrew his telepathy from their minds, leaving only a gentle touch to help him judge their emotions. It would do no good for him to linger. Even with his power, interfering with others’ thoughts always carried the risk of detection. But he did find out that they were suspicious of him; not to the point that they suspected him of murdering his friend, but they were still curious as to how he survived.

  “Come in,” Aranis said, “and please, call me Vas.”

  “Thank
you, Vas,” the leading one responded, and they stepped inside. Aranis led them to the small sitting area and they settled in. “During this operations you may refer to us as Jok and Norr. We are Inquisitors of the Hand,” the lead one said, motioning first at himself and then his companion as he gave their names.

  Aranis had learned that the agents of the Hand took on code names during their missions, as no one could know their real ones. It fascinated him to see the different cultural norms and developments, especially from races that were made in the image of the People.

  “Of course,” Aranis said. “How can I help your investigation?”

  “Let’s start with how exactly you became aware of the pirates, and everything that followed,” Inquisitor Jok said.

  Aranis told them exactly what happened, recounting the memories. The closer the memory was to the moment Aranis took them, the more vivid they were. Aranis continued, telling them how Vasily and Robert were out exploring the small valley beyond the mountains to the east of the colony. How they stumbled onto a group of people unloading cargo, closed boxes, and cages filled with animals that Vasily recognized as being from various worlds in the occupation zone, and even a few from the Empire itself, that were being taken off the shuttle and loaded onto a land transport vehicle. None had been of the Empire races, and Robert’s implant had recognized several of the races as those that lived in the occupation zone. The two of them had returned back to the colony and sent a message to the Hand. The colony leaders had argued that they had no proof that the people they saw were in fact pirates.

  So Vasily convinced his friend, Robert, that they should go back and investigate further. They went back to the spot where they first encountered them and attempted to follow the tracks. Then Aranis deviated from the memories. Instead of telling the truth of how the pirates found them, tortured them, and killed Robert and left Vasily to die, he told the inquisitors that the two of them lost the tracks and split up to cover more ground. Then the pirates found Robert. Vasily eventually went to look for his friend, but by the time he got there his friend had been dead. He’d had no choice but to return to the colony and wait for the Hand.

  The inquisitors sat and listened in silence. Then, after Aranis finished, they started asking questions. “You were exploring on foot? The colony has a shuttle registered, why not use it?” the female one, Inquisitor Norr, asked.

  “It is an older model, and is only supposed to be used for emergencies. We only have a limited amount of fuel for it, and we don’t have so many resources that we can afford to use it without a serious need. And it wouldn’t have helped regardless, as the forest is thick in the valley with only few clearings. We wouldn’t have seen anything,” Aranis said, the memories he had taken providing the information.

  “How many of them were there?” Inquisitor Jok asked.

  “I saw eight different beings, two with the shuttle crew.”

  “Can you tell us anything else about them, their clothing, weapons?”

  “They wore different clothes, no real identifying markers. Four of them wore Erasi plasma rifles—an older design. Others had weapons but I wasn’t close enough to see.” On this point, Aranis had again lied. Vasily had been very close, and had seen all of their weapons. But the only ones that Vasily had recognized were the Erasi weapons.

  “We will need the coordinates for the place where you encountered them,” Jok said.

  “Of course, but I want to go with you.”

  Aranis felt them study him, and felt them preparing to refuse him, and he couldn’t have that. He brushed against their minds, making them more receptive.

  “Why?” Jok asked.

  “Aside from wanting to make sure that the people that killed my friend pay, I know this world far better than you. Unless you plan on using the ship in orbit or using a shuttle to search for them—and make sure that they know you are searching for them while you get some pretty impressive scans of the tree tops—you will need to go on foot. That means you will need a guide through the mountain pass, and someone who knows the wildlife enough to ensure you don’t end up as food.”

  They remained silent as they thought it over, but Aranis felt their reluctance. He didn’t want to risk them sensing his interference with their thoughts; they weren’t powerful telepaths at all, but they could still sense that something was wrong. He could take over their minds and make them his puppets, but that would most certainly draw attention, as any telepath would be able to feel that something wasn’t quite right with them. He could only make small adjustments, make them more receptive to what he was asking. He had no other choice unless he wanted to find some other way to infiltrate the Empire.

  Aranis intensified his telepathic touch.

  “That—that makes sense,” Jok said slowly. “It would be more prudent to search for them stealthily. Very well—but you follow our orders. You disobey us and we are leaving you behind.”

  “Understood,” Aranis said.

  The two inquisitors stood. “Good. We will need to get our equipment ready and purchase supplies from the colonists for the trip. Be ready to leave tomorrow morning.”

  Chapter Six

  Shara Radum—Palace

  Adrian relaxed in his favorite armchair in his and Anessa’s private quarters, reading reports as he almost always seemed to do lately, if “lately” was the past few hundred years. The reports were suspended in the air around him, but only he could see them as they were projections from his implant. The job of Lord Sentinel had become mostly one of reading reports and authorizing or declining requests, and it had been a long time since Adrian had commanded a fleet or engaged in combat personally.

  He heard the water turn off and he glanced toward the bathroom area of the large room. The Shara Daim quarters were one large room with no dividing walls, but rather only half walls sectioning certain areas. So he could see Anessa as she stepped out of the area and through the invisible force field that removed the water from her body and left it inside the “shower” area. He took a moment to admire her as she walked over to him and seated herself in the armchair across from his. His admiration was interrupted by her speaking.

  “So did you have the chance to read through her reports or debriefs?” Anessa asked.

  Adrian blinked and dismissed the reports in his HUD before responding, “I did.” Adrian knew that Anessa was referring to the reports and debriefings made by their daughter.

  “And?”

  “We got confirmation.”

  “Independent?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the third independent confirmation we have,” Anessa reminded him.

  “It is.”

  “Are the three different confirmation sources enough for you?”

  Adrian sighed. “Yes, they are.”

  “Then when are we authorizing the plan?”

  Adrian remained silent.

  Anessa waited for him to answer, and then after a few moments her eyes narrowed at him. “You still want the Krashin.”

  Adrian nodded.

  “We don’t even know if we can establish any kind of communication with them. Every race that had contact with them describes them as strange and xenophobic; both the Vurta and the Hasre agree,” Anessa said, speaking of the two of the larger empires that held territory close to the Erasi and the Krashin. The Vurta held territory in the Perseus arm along the anti-spinward border of the Erasi. The Hasre were in the outer arm, far away from both Shara Daim and Empire territory, and the contact Adrian’s people had with them was limited and came only through the Vurta.

  The Hasre shared a border with the Krashin, but unlike the Erasi, the Hasre had never had a conflict with the Krashin as far as he knew, but that didn’t mean that they had any kind of a relationship. The Hasre stayed away from them and the Krashin didn’t push further into their territory.

  “They were the part of the original plan, and just because they are strange doesn’t mean that we can’t find common ground with them.”

&nbs
p; “We have enough things in place, Adrian. We don’t need them,” Anessa insisted.

  Adrian sighed again. They had always known that the Erasi were not going to take their defeat without striking back; the Erasi had a long memory.

  So a plan had been put into place. The Shara Daim-Empire alliance had made sure that they would be ready when that time comes. They had infiltrated Erasi territory with deep cover agents. They had slowly started building unrest amongst the lower members of the Erasi, just like what the Erasi were doing with their pirates and the liberation force in the alliance.

  But the alliance had gone a step further, and Anessa’s and Adrian’s plan had with it. They made contact with the races bordering the Erasi and made friends of them, which wasn’t easy as the Erasi still had their webs wrapped around them, filling their ears with distrust. But then the Krashin had pushed into Erasi territory and their grasp on the races outside of their territory had lessened. The alliance offered them gifts, trade, and friendship.

  And eventually many of those races allowed them to build secret military bases and staging points inside their territories, all for the day that they struck against the Erasi. Adrian’s spies had learned of the Krashin long ago, and his original plan had been to reach out to them and strike a bargain, that they coordinate their attacks, but Krashin territory was too far away and on the other side of the Erasi. And then the Krashin attacked on their own, and the alliance wasn’t ready. So they used the time while the Erasi were distracted to build up and get ready. And now they were, but so were the Erasi—they hadn’t fallen to the Krashin. In fact, their conflict had only made their military stronger.

  And now they had confirmation that the Erasi were planning something: Ryaana’s report indicated that most of the Erasi public believed they were going to try to push against the Krashin, but Adrian had other sources, and they agreed that the target would be the Shara Daim and the Empire. What he didn’t know was when—and their plan was for them to strike first.