Page 15 of Advance and Retreat (Dark Empire #6)

K alquor

“There it is. Explorer Class Number One-One-Two-Two,” Rorix gloated.

“Magnificent,” Negal breathed. His voice cracked slightly.

Rorix and Signis, standing on either side of their Imdiko, patted his back. Rorix didn’t blame his handsome clanmate for being dumbfounded. He was awed himself.

Most Kalquorian fleet ships offered little in the way of luxury.

Thanks to their deep-space missions, Explorer Class ships were the exception.

When men had to live deprived of setting foot on an inhabited planet or space station for a year or so at a time, they needed home comforts to keep from going space crazy. Quarters aboard ECs were spacious.

Though they stopped often to sell and trade, the Coydidak had given themselves large family living areas aboard reconfigured cargo ships.

Their ships were old, however, which meant Rorix’s people were continuously making repairs and searching for parts.

Staying ahead of breakdowns sometimes meant gaining those parts by any means possible.

EC-1122 had never broken down, because besides flights to verify it operated within accepted parameters, it had yet to be used.

No one had lived aboard it yet. According to the information Rorix had been given, it had come out of assembly just over a month ago.

It gleamed, lacking the slightest hint of wear under the dock’s work lights.

It was tear-shaped, the rounded point of the forward section the narrowest point, ballooning to a fat roundedness at the aft portion.

It gleamed, a silvery drop of dew against the darker gray of the massive docking bay.

It could house half of the Coydidak easily, who totaled nearly one thousand. The fact Kalquor was giving them four such ships, four dozen marauders, supply ships, and assorted craft told Rorix how ambitious Emperor Clajak’s hopes were for the expedition.

His gaze swept the dock’s expanse, taking in the armada he’d been tasked to lead. In total, one hundred fifty ships. Anxiety poked his guts.

The Coydidak will follow me without question, but the additional people we’re taking on means we’re outnumbered.

“The empire’s handing us not just these ships but supplies and money too.

” The astonishment in Negal’s tone was matched by greed.

He oversaw the Coydidak’s shared finances, and he was forever worried about their funds.

Rorix had the feeling being gambled into forced servitude as a young man by his father played a part in his clanmate’s sometimes avaricious actions.

Signis snorted. “What the hell will we spend money on when we leave known space? Even if we find civilizations elsewhere, they won’t be interested in Consolidated credits.”

“True, but we’ll be in GC-affiliated territory for a year,” Rorix reminded him. “Though we’ll arrive at the last outpost on our route inside of nine months.”

“Which gives us plenty of time to offload the Earthers and any others who give us shit. I vote we do so on the most distant stations.” A new thought appeared to cheer the Nobek. “I’ll bet the lot of them, especially the humans, turn tail and run long before we reach the Divide.”

“Not before I get a chance to take one to bed,” Negal announced. “I’ve been wanting to try a human female for ages.”

Signis gaped at him, echoing Rorix’s surprise. “You want sex? With one of them ?”

“You aren’t curious? Not even a little? I mean, none of us has ever had a human woman.”

“I haven’t had a ronka either, and I have no intention of trying one out.” Signis’ lip curled.

“Well, duh. Ronkas are animals.” Negal shook his head. “You hate Earthers, but you haven’t gotten to know any.”

“I don’t have to. Encountering them when we’ve stopped at places like Dantovon, Adraf, and Tratsod has me well informed. They’re judgmental, rude, violent, bigger thieves than the worst of us—”

“It doesn’t stop you from listening to the music of Matthew Larsen or Casual Innuendo, the band Irene of Clan Sherv belongs to. You’d better believe if I meet a woman who looks like Matara Irene during this expedition, I’ll chase her all over our huge flotilla,” Negal vowed.

“Mother of All,” Signis muttered, shaking his head. “You’d better disinfect yourself after any encounters, or you can sleep in different quarters.”

Rorix stifled a sigh. No Earthers had shown up to join them yet, and they were already causing problems in his clan.

* * * *

J edver, Galactic Council headquarters

Mereta’s Dark-occupied body sat at his desk, reviewing reports.

They came from various worlds subverted by the All’s offshoots and news agencies, most of which were also under the All’s proverbial thumb.

Due to the Darks being spread across a vast area throughout the GC member galaxies, the com system had become the preferred method of mass communication.

The All had never been so divided, and the immense number of individual telepathic messages being sent to it had become a problem. It couldn’t track so many.

Mereta considered the communiques, his attention masked and unobserved by his occupant. He listened in as his Dark and the All traded telepathic messages.

Sources say the Kalquorians have all but overcome the sickness set loose among its population. Earthers have likewise found an answer to their virus.

It is not good. The Bi’sil’s pathogens were to cripple their worlds, if not exterminate the Separates.

Numerous deaths occurred, particularly among the humans. Not as many as hoped.

Mereta quelled immense satisfaction to sense the All’s disquiet. He kept his emotions in check, thanks to years of long practice. Not for fear of being discovered, but because extremes weren’t to be indulged.

Additional diseases were developed on Bi’is. Will you try again?

Had he been in control of his body, Mereta’s brow would have arched. The Dark had used the pronoun “you” to refer to the All...as if it were a distinct entity from its source. Despite their being in such close proximity. Interesting. It was something to muse about later.

The great voice in his head seemed to miss the error. It could be worthwhile. Even if the Separates continue to find solutions to the illnesses,, the work done elsewhere will give them multiple problems at once to deal with.

Indeed. Trag reports the majority of its chieftains have been assimilated. The others are being eradicated. Soon, mass incursions will begin in opposition to Kalquor and its allies. The worlds controlled by the All are readying to openly fight as well.

It was the All’s turn to experience satisfaction, which it relished. It is good. If Kalquor manages to defeat my attacks, it will do the work of destroying those Separates set against it for the All.

Kalquor and its allies will be diminished themselves, easy for the taking as the All brings itself together in a great single force once more.

Experience had taught Mereta the All and its offshoot would spend a few minutes gloating about their anticipated future supremacy. Disinterested, he withdrew his attention from the tiresome conversation...and discovered a disturbance in the air.

It was slight, easy to dismiss as an effect of the computers and devices in the environment.

Perhaps a simple eddy of air in movement.

However, Mereta was attuned to the quiet beyond the natural world.

Against the familiar a backdrop, the most subtle physical manifestations were readily noted.

He knew every tremor of normal activity in his office.

The tiny vibration wasn’t a typical occurrence. What was the miniscule hum in the air? He aimed every mote of his vast consciousness at it. There...hovering over the desk, moving down to rest on its surface.

And another, close to his ear. A third, farther off. All whirring so very quietly, they might not have been making noise at all. Except they were, like tiny insects that had found their way in and restlessly prowled the air.

Then the sounds were gone.

Mereta gently prodded his occupant to shift his eyes so he could gaze where he was certain he’d felt the first disturbance.

The rich Joshadan wood of the desk’s surface next to the computer appeared as blameless as ever.

He saw nothing. Nonetheless, Mereta stared at the spot for several seconds, wondering.

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J edver, Elcoger’s shop

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“H e looked directly at the nano, as if he could see it.”

Piras had observed it too, and he squeezed Hope’s shoulder as they peered intently at the live vids being sent from the secretary-general’s office.

The three nanos Hope had constructed, assisted by Lokmi, had hitched a ride on one of the five drones Clan Piras had brought to Jedver.

The nanos were invisible to the naked eye, but who knew how sensitive the Darks might be to their presence?

Though they’d pass unnoticed by the odious other-dimensional creatures, their proximity to the All blanketing Jedver might offer the Darks extrasensory abilities.

Mereta’s eyes had shifted from seemingly staring at them through the transmission. Piras allowed himself the slightest relaxation from the momentary alarm. “Looks like he just happened to glance that way.”

“His attitude suggests he’s deep in thought,” Kila remarked.

“Or communicating with a fellow Dark...or even the All.”

“He is.” Hope had begun typing on her handheld furiously from the moment the transmissions had begun. “I’m transcribing what I’m hearing. I’m only getting his side of the conversation.” She scowled. “If it’s the All, why am I not hearing everything? The damned thing is covering the planet.”

“Do you see the Dark on Mereta?” Piras asked Lokmi.

“I do.” The Imdiko’s focus was on Hope, however, his expression considering.

“What?” Piras prodded him.

“She has a point about how strange it is she doesn’t hear the parent being. I don’t see it around us. Shouldn’t the whole planet be dark to me, since the All’s enclosing it?”