Ankara, Imperial Citadel, Earlier

  Emperor Jonuron Akkaadia III was engrossed in feeds of the battlefield from his throne in the High Room of the Imperial Citadel. His golden eyes narrowed in solemn contemplation as they surveyed the Codex-generated videos, long ebony hair rippling slightly as his posture shifted, his focus intensifying by the minute. In front of him, the Emperor’s councilors were locked in a heated debate on whether or not he should try to flee:

  “There are too many of them! His Majesty must make haste and escape immediately. The Imperial fighter-“

  “The fighter can’t outrun higher-class Enhanced. We’ve detected several Alpha class foes, not to mention the Omega-“

  “Can we summon the Imperial Frigate-“

  “You fool! If we summon the Frigate now-“

  “What about secret passages leading out from the city?”

  “I keep trying to tell you idiots, the city’s defenses are enough for now. Reinforcements are on the way. If we just wait for them-“

  The Emperor went back to tuning them out, holding back a sigh and a derisive shake of the head. All the genuinely competent people had left the room, sent off to do real work in places where they could be useful. Cu’Leia was in the control center in the Citadel’s basement, managing the battle diligently with her cadre of officers. Oran had gone to assess things in person at the front lines, and Manakar had accompanied him. They’d been lucky to have both men in the city during the attack, yet their readings showed that the Empire’s Alpha class fighters were outnumbered. Jonuron would have to open up the Imperial coffers and prompt some of the higher Beta class soldiers to make the jump. In fact, it would be wise to dip into the Psionic resource caches across the board.

  With the Warp Gate damaged, it would be a few weeks before reinforcements showed up. Already, they were struggling to hold the city’s outer limits even as they blasted away at the enemy, and the city’s stock of munitions was far from unlimited. The Kharnidd were paying a deadly cost for swift success, yet it seemed to be a cost that the Xenos could afford. Their numbers were sickening. Perhaps terrifying, if the Emperor allowed himself to dwell on the subject. Which he would not.

  Ankara was not a city used to being besieged. The Imperium was used to doing battle on its outer edges, not within its heartland. They wouldn’t last long if they were too afraid to spend every resource they had. No matter how tight the purse strings already were.

  It was with some regret that the Emperor passed on his orders to Cu’Leia. She was to mobilize all the Psionic resources in the city and upgrade their defenders. Maintaining their defenses would be the first priority, but improving them would need to be a close second. She replied instantly, indicating that it would be done. Knowing her, she’d already put the preparations in place and had only been waiting for his order.

  Jonuron tapped his finger slowly on one arm of his throne, shooting a subtle glare at his councilors before turning back toward the battlefield. He’d already decided he wasn’t running. Even assuming he was certain to escape, he had no intention of being forced from his seat of power by a bunch of animals. He had more respect for the Empire’s human foes, and he’d never abandon the city to the Republic or the Oligarchy. Leaving it to the Kharnidd, for even a second, was even less tolerable.

  No, he would destroy these invaders, no matter the cost. Fleeing wasn’t much of an option anyway, no matter what some of his councilors said. Victory could be theirs, but only if they were willing to pay the price.

  The only thing that the Emperor was genuinely concerned about was the Omega class. The Citadel’s Beam Cannon had definitely wounded the creature, but the Emperor had been forced to unleash one of the Empire’s secret weapons to keep from being destroyed. The Omega class android had been something they’d discovered in an abandoned Aeterna facility over a century ago, in a semi-intact condition. The Empire’s scientists had barely managed to repair the thing and get it mostly operational, though many of its functions and designs remained mysterious to them. Primarily the software, based on the reports he’d been given. It was this android that did battle with the Kharnidd Omega class right now, and it was the only real counter he had to deal with the creature at his immediate disposal, besides the Beam Cannon. The latter couldn’t be fired regularly, so the former was the best shot he had at stalling or killing that thing.

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  The Emperor furrowed his brow as he mulled over the Omega situation. Per the Imperial standard, only two human Omega class fighters were in operation at any given time. Due to their limited lifespans, most were kept in stasis pods to prolong their existence, only being brought out of stasis when they were needed. During peacetime, two were kept on hand in case of emergency, but no more. One of those two was currently flying toward Akaadia at full speed, alongside numerous other Pioneer and Army Divisions. The Emperor had summoned a significant fraction of the Imperium’s military might back to Akaadia, a move that’d brooked little controversy. Even if he’d chosen to escape instead, no one wanted to allow the Xenos to hold the heart of the Empire for long. When the reinforcements arrived, these Kharnidd would be squashed like the insects that they were, even if the beasts still had more cards to play.

  He would have summoned reinforcements from the other planets in the Akaadian system, but they were tied up dealing with their own attacks. However, even that was of no consequence, since the reinforcements heading their way should be more than enough to sweep the entire system clean-

  “My lord?”

  The Emperor’s train of thought was derailed when one of his councilors sat up and addressed him directly. Golden orbs swiveled to meet the man’s violet colored gaze, regarding him with cool imperiousness. This had better be good:

  “Yes?”

  The Emperor’s voice came out in a penetrating vibrato, not so deep that it was uncomfortable to listen to or hard to understand, but low enough that it commanded total respect. To his credit, the councilor stood his ground, refusing to so much as gulp in fear. However, he did break eye contact, aware that holding the sovereign’s gaze for too long was a punishable offense. Even if the Emperor had initiated it. The ruler found himself internally nodding in approval at the reaction, and he brought his focus more acutely on the councilor. In a grave tone, the man finally spoke, “We’re getting reports of Kharnidd attacks on the perimeter of the Empire. Several Omegas have been spotted.”

  The Emperor didn’t let his sudden fear show in his face or in his voice as he confidently responded, “Show me.”

  The man sent him a star map of the Imperium, where much of its Frontier border was highlighted in crimson. The scope of the attacks was enormous, making it clear that this was not a simple collection of skirmishes. This was Galactic War. The violet-eyed councilor continued to elaborate, “Many calls for reinforcements have come in, yet many of those calls have been ignored. The troops that would have gone to reinforce those planets are currently on their way to the capital.”

  This revelation forced everyone in the High Room into shocked silence. The quickest amongst them, including the Emperor, had the same thought in unison, “We’ve been had!!!!”

  The Kharnidd troops in the capital were a distraction, designed to thin their forces elsewhere. By the time the reinforcements got here, cleaned this mess up, and returned to the nearest functional Warp Gate, the Kharnidd will have wreaked havoc throughout much of the Empire’s extremities. The Emperor could choose to empty much of the Empire of military forces to defend the border worlds, but that risked everything. All it would take was one break in the front lines for the Kharnidd to push through and attack the undefended Imperial heartland with wild abandon. That would be even worse than leaving the extremities to die in the first place, since the inner portions of the Empire held most of its industrial and scientific facilities. Allowing those to be severely damaged could spell doom outright, especially in a war like this.

  And yet, allowing the Frontier to be ransacked by the enemy would be nearly as bad. That was where most of the Empire’s Psionic resources came from. Without a steady stream of those, their ability to prosecute this war would be heavily weakened. With a single stroke, the Kharnidd had bamboozled the Imperium’s military logistics and forced the Emperor into an impossible choice, where any decision he made would come with unacceptable risks.

  It took all of Jonuron’s training and self-control to remain stoic in the face of these developments. While the Kharnidd had pulled off a masterful maneuver, they would not find the Imperium to be easy prey. Mind working at top speed, he had an epiphany that was nearly as sudden as this bad news. He pulled out his state-of-the-art Vox Box and placed a quick call. It would only be marginally faster than using his SmartPad, but every second counted. The other end of the line picked up after the first ring, and a sharp, clear voice soon echoed from the device, “Your Majesty, I heard what happened. Are you safe?”

  Hahkta Kufal, Minister of Intelligence and Duceps of Sector 7, was always prompt with his questions, and the Emperor was quick with his answer, “I’m fine. Tell me, are the Kharnidd attacking the others?”

  The Emperor didn’t need to elaborate. He obviously meant the other human galactic states. The Minister confirmed, “Yes, they are under attack. We bear the worst of the enemy’s forces, but they are also hard-pressed.”

  The Emperor’s eyes flickered back to the star map, then hung up on Hahkta. He then brought in Seth Norlow, Deputy Commander of the Pioneers, and Grand Marshall Zeke Lo’ran, the Omega class that was not making his way toward Akaadia. The former was the highest-ranking Pioneer not currently doing battle, while the latter was presently in charge of all the Imperial forces currently bordering their human enemies. The Emperor’s orders were simple: “Divert 70% of the troops currently bordering the Libera Coalition to reinforce the Frontier border. Answer as many distress calls as you can, according to standard priority. Grand Marshall, go in person. Code: Deep Scarlet.”

  Deep Scarlet indicated high urgency, meaning that they should spare no expense for the sake of speed. Both men must have been surprised, yet they didn’t hesitate to give their affirmatives. The Emperor hung up on both of them, only to place a third call. His other councilors had already erupted in surprise over the orders, apparently temporarily forgetting that he was the Emperor and that they had no right to question him. If they didn’t settle down soon, he’d have half of them executed, though his attention remained on the third call. When the other end of the line picked up, the Emperor didn’t wait for the other party to speak before issuing more orders, “Awaken the Sleeping Giants and inform them of the Kharnidd situation. Code: White Lightning.”

  Perhaps the Empire had been put on the back foot for now, but that wasn’t how they waged war. They fought by advancing, bootstep by bloody bootstep. The Emperor would carve that lesson into the Kharnidd or die trying.

  His ancestors never backed down. Why should he?