CHAPTER ONE

Commander Korax sat in his darkened room, staring at the holographic image of the Red Dragon Nebula floating in the air before his eyes, and let out a tired sigh. He ran a gloved hand over his tanned, leathery skin and blinked his gold-colored eyes to relieve the strain. Korax couldn’t recall ever being so bored in his entire life. For close to a year, he and his detachment of rebel Kurgan mercenaries had been guarding a small base dug inside an asteroid circling a massive, blue, gas planet. If there was a hind end of the Kurgan Empire, Korax was sure he was stationed there. However, for all of its faults, it was many light-years from the Kurgan homeworld, and the prying eyes of the Imperial Armed Forces and its many intelligence agencies. He had no clue what they were guarding, nor did he care. To Korax it was just a job, and for an ex-Imperial Army officer forced into early retirement due to his love of chemically engineered drugs, the money was good.

A flashing red dot suddenly appeared near the asteroid. Korax moved his hand over the holograph to magnify the area. Right away, the image of a freighter came into focus. Naturally suspicious, he read the transponder code listed under the ship and relaxed. It was a friendly vessel—one of only three that visited the station every four months, with supplies and new crew replacements. Korax brought up his wrist to his mouth and activated his comms device. Sergeant Katyl, I see we have company.

Yes, sir, it’s Keran’s resupply freighter, replied Katyl from the base’s command center. He’s asking for permission to land.

Korax had known Keran for years and was looking forward to having a drink or two with his old friend. Tell him permission granted.

Will do. There was a slight pause before Katyl said, Sir, Keran’s asking to speak with you the instant he lands.

Korax scrunched his brow. Did he say why?

No, sir, but he sounded quite anxious.

That’s not like Keran. Korax drummed his fingers on his desk for a few seconds. Tell him I’ll meet him in the landing bay.

Yes, sir.

Korax searched around his dimly lit room for his belt, and found it hanging over a seat. He grunted, struggling to pull it over his bulging waistline. Korax lamented that as he grew older, his weight increased, too. He knew he’d have to buy a new suit of body armor before too long, but reasoned it was a small price to pay for the credits he was earning, overseeing a base in the middle of nowhere. He ensured his sidearm and ceremonial sword were securely fastened properly before exiting his quarters.

The station’s massive steel doors slowly parted, allowing the freighter to fly inside and land. As soon as the vessel touched down, the doors closed, and the landing bay repressurized. Korax waited until the light above the secure entrance to the bay turned green, and then pressed a button, opening the door. He strode purposefully toward the mid-sized freighter. Korax looked up at the cockpit, but failed to see anyone sitting behind the ship’s controls, adding to his curiosity. Korax stopped outside the freighter’s loading ramp and tapped his foot on the floor. A second later, a loud buzzer sounded, warning people to stand clear as the ramp prepared to lower.

Korax took a step back and smiled as the ramp lowered and his old friend Captain Keran came into view. Right away, he knew something was wrong. Keran had a pained look on his face. Korax stepped forward. What’s wrong, old man?

I’m sorry, replied Keran. Before he could say another word, a blade burst through his chest, dripping blood. Keran buckled at the knees, revealing a person dressed in a white combat uniform from its head to its toes. A dark faceplate hid the person’s identity.

Fear engulfed Korax. He stood there, unable to speak or move.

The assassin withdrew its sword from Keran’s body and leaped at Korax, deftly cutting off his head with a single blow. Blood shot like a fountain from his headless corpse, spraying his attacker. The person ignored the blood, dropped to one knee, and pointed its sword at the open door. In an instant, three teams of three assassins rushed out of the freighter. One group quickly eliminated a handful of defenseless Kurgans standing around waiting to unload the freighter. After that, they sprinted for the command center to shut it down before a distress signal could be sent. Another crew headed for the sleeping quarters, intent on killing as many of Korax’s men as they could before the alarm sounded. The last team raced to secure the base’s armory.

Katin unfastened her faceplate from her blood-splattered helmet and let it drop onto the steel floor. The Kurgan Emperor’s sister glanced down at Korax’s headless body, bared her sharp teeth in defiance of her fallen foe, and called him a traitor. She wiped the blood from her sword on her sleeve before sliding it back home in its metal sheath. In her earpiece, Katin could hear the reports from her teams as they went about their jobs with ruthless efficiency.

"Command center secure – the opposition is all down – the armory is ours," reported Katin’s female team leaders.

Good work. Kylen, did the command center manage to send a distress signal?

"No, ma’am. We caught them all by surprise."

That’s excellent news. Make sure you download all of the station’s transmissions, incoming and outgoing, before setting your charges.

"Will do, ma’am."

Katin jogged out of the landing bay and made her way to the closest stairs. She took two stairs at a time as she raced to the armory on the lowest level of the base. At the bottom of the stairs lay two corpses, missing their heads. She didn’t feel a thing for the men at her feet. They knew what they were doing when they turned their backs on her brother and the empire for profit. Katin opened a door and found herself inside a vast cavern carved out of the asteroid.

Over here, ma’am, said one of her assassins, standing next to an open weapons vault.

Katin walked over and looked inside. Her blood boiled at the sight of thousands of illegal Thlazian pulse rifles. One of the stipulations on the peace agreement from the last war was the import of Thlazian technology was forbidden and punishable by death. If just one of the seven families who ruled the empire gained a technological advantage over the others, the consequences would be devastating.

Ma’am, there’s more, said another woman as she pushed aside the lid on a long rectangular container. It’s a Thlazian high-energy plasma torpedo. I found ten more of them in another vault. If they’re as powerful as we’ve been led to believe, just one of these torpedoes could take out an imperial destroyer by itself.

Katin shook her head. Someone’s paid a lot of credits for all of this equipment. It’s a shame that it’ll all be so much space garbage when we’re finished here.

I’ve rigged one of the torpedoes to explode fifteen minutes from now, reported the last person in the team.

Good thinking, said Katin, strolling over to her colleague’s side. She looked down at her reflection in the assassin’s faceplate. Katin reached over, removed the shield from its helmet, and smiled. Kyyra, you have your mother’s beautiful brown eyes.

Thank you, replied Wendy Sheridan, taking off her helmet to expose her light mocha-colored skin and her smoothly shaven head.

Shall we go?

Yes, ma’am. I’ve already activated the torpedoes’ self-destruct programming. So, the sooner we’re out of here, the better.

Well then, we had best be on our way.

Wendy nodded and brought up her fingers to her mouth a let out a piercing whistle. Ladies, it’s time to go!

With Katin in the lead, Wendy and her team ran as fast as they could to the waiting freighter. The rest of the assassins were already onboard and strapped into their seats. Wendy’s people joined their comrades, while Katin headed straight for the bridge.

Status? Katin asked, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat.

The pilot never looked up from her controls. The engines are powered up, and the coordinates have already been inputted into the drive engine computer for our jump. The only obstacle in our way is the outer doors; they’re still shut.

Have you tried overriding the base’s computers to open them?

Yes, ma’am. Unfortunately, the one thing we forgot to buy were the codes for the outer doors.

Katin shook her head. I should have thought of that.

You can’t think of everything.

True enough. Blast them open!

I thought you’d say that. With a flick of her wrist, the pilot activated the freighter’s defensive weapons and fired a single missile at the heavy steel doors, tearing them apart. The bay instantly decompressed, sending anything not secured to the floor, including Korax’s body, out into the void.

Katin activated the ship’s intercom. Hang on back there; we’re about to make our jump.

The pilot gently moved her controls forward as she flew her ship out of the landing bay and into the vacuum of space. Jumping in three-two-one.

Katin sat back and watched out of her window as the gas giant vanished from sight, replaced by stygian darkness. Safe and secure inside a jump bubble, the freighter moved through space faster than the speed of light toward its next destination, known only to Katin and her handpicked pilot. Katin and her angels of death existed for one reason alone: to protect the emperor. Their lives meant nothing to them. Every one of them had sworn a blood oath to die, if need be, to ensure the empire’s continued stability.

With the day’s raid behind them, Katin tried to relax, but her mind wouldn’t let her. Far too many shipments of Thlazian weapons were making it into Kurgan space. To keep her brother and the empire safe, a delicate balance of power between the families had to be maintained. Katin closed her eyes and gnashed her sharpened teeth. Someone knew what was going on, and when she found them, she intended to flay them alive.

CHAPTER TWO

G ood morning from the flight deck, everyone, said an overly cheerful voice over the ship’s intercom. We’re approaching the end of our jump, and will be arriving in orbit above the Kurgan homeworld in exactly twelve hours and fifteen minutes from now. As per Kurgan regulations, please have your passports and up-to-date medical information cards available for the customs officers to inspect.

Alan Sheridan rolled over in his bunk and placed his pillow over his bloodshot eyes. His mouth was drier than any desert back home on Earth, and his head pounded as if there were someone inside, trying to escape.

Good morning, sleepyhead, said Sheridan’s roommate, a stocky, Asian man in his early twenties, with massive biceps covered in dragon tattoos.

Alan slowly sat up, unsure if his stomach was going to turn or not. He dropped his pillow from his face and tried to focus his dry, cognac-brown eyes. Sung, has anyone told you recently that you’re an evil man?

Only you, said Sung, with a theatrical bow.

What the hell did we drink last night?

Sung picked up an empty bottle from the cabin floor and tossed it at Alan. "It’s called Soju. It’s currently the number one selling drink in all of Asia. My family makes this stuff back home in New Seoul."

Alan took a sniff of the open bottle and struggled not to retch. My God, how much did we drink?

Let me see. Sung counted the bottles on the floor. Six. I think we drank six bottles together. No, wait. I vaguely remember that we had company for the first couple.

Alan scrunched his brow and tried to pierce the fog in his mind. Please don’t tell me the Morrison twins weren’t here again.

Sung chuckled. Yeah, they were. I think Tina’s got a thing for you.

Alan opened a water bottle and chugged the lukewarm liquid down. I know. No matter where I went for the four years I was at the Armed Forces Academy, there she was.

Hey, you’ve got to give her an A for effort.

Alan canted his head. She’s not a bad person. I honestly find her quite beautiful and very funny. But she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s looking for a husband, and I’m not ready to get tied down. Hell, I just turned twenty-four the other day.

Sung stood and started to dig through his suitcases for something clean to wear. Alan, before you left Earth, did the Marine Corps give you any indication where you’re going to be posted when you get back home?

No. I suspect they’re too busy trying to decide how to best market my name to their advantage.

Sung tutted. Easy on the sarcasm, my friend. Someone other than me might hear you and think you’re a malcontent.

Let them think what they want. I’m tired of walking around smiling and shaking hands with everyone I meet. Do you know what it’s like to come from a family as famous as mine?

Sung shook his head. No, I don’t. My family lost several people during the war, including several uncles. That’s why my father insisted that I join the Diplomatic Branch and not the Armed Forces. Every time I chat with my parents, they like to remind me that they want grandchildren, like, yesterday.

Well, let me tell you. It’s tiresome living in other peoples’ shadows. My grandfather is a celebrated Admiral and retired politician. My mother and father are practically legends on both Earth and the Kurgan homeworld. Hell, look at my name. It’s bad enough that I have famous parents, but I was named after one of the most highly decorated Marines of the last war. The Kurgan Emperor, Kobak, even had an Imperial Training Academy named after my namesake, Alan Cole. I tell you, Sung, it’s exhausting.

Sung smiled. You should embrace it while you can.

That’s easy for you to say.

Alan, the day will come when someone new comes along, and that person won’t care about you or your family.

Alan slumped back on his bed. God, I hope so.

It will. Alan, I’ve never asked you much about yourself, but why are you returning to the Kurgan homeworld at Christmas time, when you could be skiing and chasing single women on the slopes of Mars?

It’s complicated.

How so?

My sister, Wendy, and I practically grew up on the homeworld. My father was the ambassador to the Kurgan Empire for fifteen years. As a result, I know more about Kurgan traditions, religion, and history than I do about Earth’s. When it was finally time for us to rotate back home, Wendy dug in her heels and refused to leave. My parents tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen, and ran away from home. We knew where she had gone and begged the Emperor’s Chancellor, Kaar, to intercede on our behalf and convince Wendy to come back to Earth, but it all fell on deaf ears.

If you knew where she was, why didn’t you just go and force her to come home?

Alan grinned. "You don’t know my sister. She’s headstrong and proud. Unfortunately, she had fallen under the spell of the emperor’s charismatic sister, Katin, and ran off to become a Keryl-Kar."

A what?

A royal assassin. Here’s a bit of trivia that most people don’t know. In all of the Empire, they are only ten of them. Nine are disciples, and one is their leader, Katin.

A Kurgan assassin? Wow! Why would she do that?

Alan shrugged. If I knew that, I might have been able to stop her from leaving in the first place.

Your parents must cringe each time they receive a communique from the homeworld, wondering if your sister is dead.

They put on a brave face, but the longer they don’t hear from Wendy, the more they fear she won’t be coming back. They’ve tried to reach out to her a couple of times, but each time ended in failure.

So, is she why you’re going back to the homeworld?

That, and Chancellor Kaar sent me a message six months ago asking me to visit him as soon as I had finished my training in the Academy. That’s why I asked for a secondment to the embassy staff, so I could see Kaar in the flesh before I head out and try to find my sister.

I bet the current ambassador wishes he had your connections with the Imperial family and their advisors.

It’s not as exciting as it sounds. I see Kaar as a very old great-grandfather, and not the most powerful advisor to the emperor. When I was a teen, we’d spend hours discussing Kurgan history, politics, and interstellar affairs. He’s a wise and very perceptive man. He truly shaped how I think.

Man, I envy you your childhood. Do you want to get cleaned up and then maybe get some breakfast?

Alan stood and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. I’d be happy to, Sung, but first, we need to clear the air.

Sung shrugged. What are you talking about?

Please don’t play the fool with me. It’s demeaning.

Sung shook his head. What do you mean?

I know that you’re a member of Fleet Intelligence. You’re no more a diplomatic staff officer than I am.

Sung dropped his shoulders. How long have you known?

For about a week. You’re good, really good, Sung. But I know an agent when I see one. You forget I grew up around soldiers, diplomats, and plenty of spies. Both human and Kurgan.

Damn.

It’s okay. I’m not going to tell a soul about you. Your secret is safe with me.

Sung perked up. Thanks.

Now, it’s time for some honesty between us. I know that you’re here to spy on me. So, what does the Armed Forces want to know about my trip to the homeworld?

In a nutshell, why are you going back?

I’ve already told you. My parents begged me to try and find Wendy. They’d love to see her again before she dies, light-years away from Earth, fighting for the Kurgan royal family. That’s why I asked for a year-long sabbatical from the Armed Forces. Even with the chancellor’s help, I suspect it’ll take me three to four months to track my sister down. Hence why I asked for so much time off.

And that’s it?

That’s it.

Why do you think Kaar wants to see you?

Alan pulled out a chair and sat down. As much as it pains me to say, I think he’s dying. The chancellor’s close to two hundred years old, and his health isn’t what it used to be. During the war, he and his wife lost their only children, two sons. I grew up around him, and he came to treat me as the great-grandchild he never had. It may sound odd to human ears, but I love him. I think this is why he’s been so insistent that I come back home as soon as I could.

It all sounds so ordinary.

Alan smiled. It is. My father was right. The war may be over, but the prejudices and fear still linger.

I disagree. People like me live by the mantra, trust but verify. You can’t disagree that the Kurgan Empire is held together by the will of the emperor. Kobak is a supremely popular ruler, but that hasn’t stopped the other six families from scheming against him. If Kobak were ever to be deposed, we could be facing a potentially hostile regime that still yearns for the glory days of the empire.

Everything you’ve said is true, but the empire’s changing. Maybe not as fast as Earth would like, but it doesn’t view us as a lesser species anymore.

That’s not good enough.

Alan stood and looked his friend in the eyes. What would be good enough for you?

Long-lasting stability and an enduring peace.

That will come. Just not tomorrow.

I wish I had your faith.

Alan smiled. Faith; now, that’s another topic altogether. Let’s just say I believe in what Emperor Kobak is trying to do for his people. When historians look back on this era, I suspect it will be called the Kurgan Reformation. Will we see all of these changes in our lifetimes? Probably not. But our children and their children will live in peace with a reformed Kurgan society that will view us as equals and partners in the universe. We couldn’t ask for more, now could we?

Sung scratched the stubble on his chin. No, I guess not.

Alan held out his hand. Let’s make a deal. From this day forward, I’ll tell you everything I know, and vice versa. Let’s keep the lines of communication open.

Sung shook his comrade’s hand. Deal. Now, how about some food? I’m starving.

CHAPTER THREE

Accompanied by a squadron of elite Kurgan starfighters, the long-range diplomatic cruiser descended smoothly from orbit and landed without incident at a heavily guarded Kurgan military base a few kilometers from the sprawling Terran Embassy. As soon as the vessel’s engines switched off, a Kurgan honor guard jogged out onto the tarmac and formed