Chapter Sixteen

The galaxy reverberated in shock following the broadcast of the Galactic Council's attack on the orphanage. In the aftermath, many planets and societies, including Joshada, Plasius, Alneusia, and additional longstanding allies of the Kalquorian Empire, immediately recalled their ambassadors from the GC in protest. They renounced membership in the entity that had for the most part kept peace among their worlds for so long.

Kalquorian officials admitted the support, while welcome, wasn't as overwhelming as they'd hoped. Some worlds defended the GC, citing the governing body's allegations that Kalquor's horrific footage was counterfeit. Alongside the Dark-controlled Galactic Council, they trotted out accusations Kalquor had intimidated Cheryl and the children into lying about the attack, pointing out the orphanage's residents had completely disappeared from sight.

Empress Jessica and other Earther women on Kalquor, after viewing vid statements, confirmed the ambassadors and planet leaders defending the Galactic Council spoke in two voices…their own and the Darks'. Those the Imperial Clan and Royal Council had identified as having the ability to see the tentacled shadows corroborated their claims. Representatives from numerous planets, counseled by Kalquorian diplomats, had also begun to find witnesses among their own people who could detect the Darks.

There were planets and systems unwilling to be drawn into the fray. They remained officially neutral, keeping their distance from both the Galactic Council and the empire.

Those aligned with the Galactic Council shouted for outright war against the Kalquorian Empire and its allies. As far as the empire was concerned, the situation was worsening…but they took heart in no longer being alone in their fight against the terrible All.

As Emperor Clajak grimly told his people and allies during a broadcast speech, "We know who our friends are, and our enemy should be shaking in fear now that it's exposed."

* * * *

Cheryl, Besrel, Open Arms Orphanage staff and its children…all of them alive and healthy…filed from the shuttles of the transport they'd been transferred onto after Kila's spyship and the marauders had flown them to empire space. Despite the care they'd received from their rescuers, the group looked wan. They were physically fine, but emotionally drained after their harrowing ordeal.

They glanced around the small island on the planet they'd been brought to, their gazes guardedly hopeful. A brilliant sun hung a quarter of the way in the sky. A slightly more distant twin had just risen over the horizon, bringing brilliant light to tall trees sporting green umbrella-like foliage near the golden sand beach they'd landed on. It was morning and already warm enough to bring sweat to their skin. The gentle breezes and mighty voice of the ocean brought to mind tropical paradise, however. Cheryl's heart lifted.

They faced a metallic building not in keeping with the lovely surroundings. It was a cold structure in the midst of warm welcome, a facility of stark angles possessing no aesthetic beauty.

Besral snorted. "Temporary structure used by the Kalquorian military to house offices and soldiers on the ground. It'll do, I suppose."

"This place is a godsend, my love. Our hosts are coming." Cheryl straightened and smiled at the figures emerging from the building. It was a real smile instead of the strained version she'd worn for the children's sake as they'd left behind the ruins of the home they'd grown up in for so many years. For the youngest, the orphanage had been the only home they'd ever known. It had been a horrific goodbye.

We'll be fine. We've come this far, and we're alive.

But for a human male, the group of three who approached them were tall, ethereal beings. Willowy, bronze-skinned, most sporting the natural olive hue of the thick fur that passed for hair on their heads, they appeared to float rather than walk across the sand. A female in the lead smiled welcome, at ease in silvery clothing transparent where appliques didn't hide her sensual assets. Cheryl and Besral exchanged a glance, then stepped forward to greet their hosts.

"Welcome to Plasius," the lovely leader said. "I'm Saucin Israla. These are my aides, Tyler Carter…" the ruggedly handsome Earther nodded "…and Shisa." The second female Plasian also nodded, her black-marble eyes raking Besral in obvious appreciation. As impossible as it should have been, she wore less than Israla. "We're delighted to have you here for as long as you need."

"Thank you, Saucin. We appreciate your coming to our assistance."

"Come. You've had an exhausting and tragic journey. Let's get you settled in so you can begin to heal from your losses."

* * * *

Cheryl put away the few articles of clothing she'd stuffed in her go bag. It was just as well she had so little to unpack; the closet was small for two. When she ordered it closed, the door slid shut and disappeared in a seamless whole on the dull metallic wall.

The room was a box. It possessed only one massive piece of furniture, the sleeping mat, to give it a function. Israla had apologized for the ugly shelter. "We'll see what we can come up with to make it better during your stay here," she'd promised.

"It's a safe port. The island itself is lovely. The children will adore the beach. I doubt we'll spend much time indoors," Cheryl had insisted.

"You'll want to come out only in the morning and evening. The suns are quite fierce in the afternoon. We'll fix this." The Plasian leader had glared at the building with undisguised loathing, a strange expression for her ethereal face.

Unpacking accomplished, Cheryl went to the bed taking up most of the tiny room's space. She crashed onto its surface. Her grateful sigh rang loud.

They were safe. At least safer than they'd been. In the end, nothing else mattered.

The door leading to the corridor whooshed open, admitting children's laughter, Marci's calls for everyone to take showers, and Besral. It closed behind the Nobek, and quiet descended once more.

"Everyone seems to be settling in well. The children are more like themselves than I've seen since we evacuated."

Cheryl noted many of the lines etched in his features had lessened considerably. "Having security makes a big difference. Add a warm meal and beds to call their own again, and we've found paradise." She sat up. "We are safe, my love? Plasius has no army, no security force I know of."

"No, but they have a planetary defense shield. It defeated Earth's battlecruisers and city killers back when Israla allied her people to Kalquor during the war."

"Is it enough against the phase capability the Darks stole from the empire?"

Besral shrugged. "Tyler Carter told me Kalquor's spy division has shared specs that'll fluctuate the planetary field's frequencies and may force any incoming vessel to unphase. The empire is setting up long-range detection systems to warn Plasius of incoming hostiles. The systems will also be armed with automatic defensive weapons, phased and otherwise, to fire on GC warships should they show up. I think we'll be all right as long as the Galactic Council remains unaware of our location."

"Won't the activity of setting up defenses make them suspicious?"

Besral chuckled. "As we speak, the same is being done for dozens of Kalquor's most vulnerable allies, such as Joshada and Tratso. Thanks to everyone being on alert for Dark infiltration, it'll take some doing for our enemy to hunt us down."

"It is possible."

Besral sat next to her and drew her in his arms. "As much as I hate being deemed little of a threat, it would be foolish for the All to waste valuable resources searching for a dozen used-up Nobeks, a few former nuns, and helpless children. Now that we can't be made an easy example of, it'll focus its energies elsewhere."

"It makes sense when you put it in those terms," she admitted. "But you aren't used-up. You certainly rose to the occasion on Mymah."

"Speaking of rising to the occasion…" He fondled her breast.

"Oh! Aren't you exhausted after what we've been through?" She pushed at his hands, both busy now, in half-hearted protest.

"Aren't you tense after being cooped up on an overcrowded transport among a few hundred upset children for two weeks? Don't you think you should relieve some tension?"

He pressed her onto the mat, his touch still roaming, still caressing. And yes, the fiend was waking desire as he always did. Cheryl laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull his grinning lips in for a kiss.

Their clothes seemed to melt away, though Cheryl knew it was Besral's practiced stripping that left them naked. For several minutes, they simply moved together, their bodies sliding against each other. Their writhing dance was sensual, though they held off on penetration.

"Eyes closed." Besral's growl was soft but bestial, an animal sound simultaneously standing Cheryl's hair on end and sending excitement coursing through her. She obeyed without hesitation.

He nuzzled and kissed a slow path down her body. His lips were soft where they landed, but slight twinges told her his teeth nipped. She trembled under the delicious assault, very aware of the wet trail he left on her flesh on his way to where she was wettest. His bites would leave no marks, but they stung. She felt how her excitement surged at each tiny torment.

His huge paws grasped her thighs, just under the buttocks, then slid to the backs of her knees as he spread her wide. His growl was louder than before as he stared at her splayed sex. His expression was feral, almost turning him into a stranger at that instant. He looked ready to devour her for real, and Cheryl uttered an anxious but eager whimper.

Then he was on her, his tongue whirling and searching her intimate folds. A bolt of sheer bliss shot through her, and she cried out, her hips bucking the small amount his mastery over her allowed.

He snarled as he fed from her. He was strong, unstoppable, leaving her tossing her head helplessly as ecstasy built. Her squirming and kicking made no impression, at least as much as her maelstrom-whirled mind could tell. He sucked and licked and nipped her clamoring sex. His tongue dove deep in her, fucking her. He drew hard on her swollen clit until she fought to escape the intense rapture threatening to destroy her.

He was relentless as she broke apart, her fist stuffed in her mouth to muffle the screaming she couldn't stop as orgasm tore through her. He gave no quarter until climax plowed her a second time, shattering her senses.

She returned to her surroundings slowly. Cheryl became aware she was softly moaning still as the surges of pleasure ebbed. They failed to disappear entirely, because Besral leisurely licked her pussy as she came down. He let her quiet but kept her simmering.

"I do love making you scream," he paused long enough to rumble.

"I hope no one heard me." Since nobody was beating on the door to see if she were being murdered, she assumed the room was soundproof.

He chuckled and rose to stand by the bed. His cocks stood from his groin, slick and eager. Cheryl was limp from the cataclysmic climaxes Besral had drawn from her. He didn't appear to mind her inability to help as he shifted her position. He put her ass at the edge of the sleeping mat so her legs hung off. Her feet didn't touch the floor. The mat came to mid-thigh on Besral, who was slightly taller than the average Kalquorian. Such a big, strong, incredible man.

Used up? Not even close.

He grasped her ankles and lifted her legs in a vee. Watching as their sexes came together, not needing to guide his shafts after years of practice, he slid in her in slow increments. Despite his care, Cheryl's breath caught at the ache of taking him. Her pussy was swollen from the devastating orgasms, and he hadn't prepared her rear entrance for his smaller but impressive secondary.

Besral was always careful, but he was a Nobek who'd recently seen his wife and the children he regarded as his own in danger. It brought the feral instincts of his primal breed to the fore. His need for control and proof of his strength had to be satisfied. He needed Cheryl's calm to vanquish his storm. He needed her surrender.

She gave it gladly. His determined invasion was met by her wholehearted yielding despite her body's slight protests. She found that like the bites, the twinges of hurt added to her growing excitement. He'd have stopped if she'd told him to, but she liked the fantasy she was his to claim no matter what. His to control. His to…

Go on. Admit what gets you hottest when it comes to this.

Yes. His to fuck.

She accepted the growing strain of taking him, her fists clawing the sheets. He continued to press deeper in, seemingly unmindful of her comfort. But even as his expression exulted in his conquest, he watched her carefully, ready to halt if he discerned it was too extreme for her.

Then they were fully joined, man and woman, husband and wife, Nobek and Matara.

Though his chest heaved in a betrayal of his rising hunger, Besral rocked slowly, dragging out the incredible friction shooting her straight to renewed arousal. He continued to watch her as his measured thrusts shifted her ever so slightly on the bed. She was enraptured by the view of her scarred, muscled master rocking between her spread thighs as much as the feeling of him in her. He grinned, as if reading her thoughts, his hooded eyes declaring his enjoyment of what he saw and did to her.

He moved quicker. Harder. Her breasts bounced as the strength of his loving increased, and he licked his lips. "Later," he panted. "Later I'll shove my cocks between your tits and fuck them until I come all over them."

Her pussy clenched on him at the filthy vow, and he barked a laugh. He quickened his pace. The liquid sounds of their wet sexes were joined by soft thuds of flesh meeting flesh. The increased friction made Cheryl gasp. Her hips, beyond her conscious control, rose and fell to his rhythm. She worked to increase the pleasure he gifted her. She instinctively chased another orgasm, as if she hadn't already been gratified so thoroughly.

Besral's jaw tightened. He was getting close. As tendons began straining on his muscled frame, Cheryl realized he was holding off for her. He wanted her with him when he came.

She exerted her will and her energy to make it happen. They gasped and heaved together, joined not only in body and soul, but in determination. The soft sounds of their sexes meeting grew to heavy claps. Their gasps became groans of force. Sweat shone on their skin.

There. Rapture was gathering, the tide of pleasure gathering force where they were one. Cheryl seized on its promise by grasping her clit between fingers and thumb. Besral's pupils bloomed wide at the sight, and he tensed. "Yes!" he shouted.

She cried out, her mouth wide as ecstasy swept toward her. She felt the first pulse of his climax, the jet of heat filling her, then her own passion took her away.

Besral fell over her, blanketing her in his heavy warmth. His groans filled her ears, and she clung, wrapping her arms and freed legs around him, caging him as each tumultuous wave crashed. They writhed helplessly, the siren song of ultimate togetherness forcing them to prolong the bliss while their bodies allowed.

Then serenity descended, marked by their sighs and gentle pulses of contentment. Besral rolled so Cheryl lay on him. His restless hands prowled, rubbing her shoulders, back, and ass as they quieted.

"My Matara," he breathed, injecting profound love in those two words.

"My love. My life," she answered.

* * * *

Alpha Space Station

Charity's guard glanced at her as they hurried through the bustling station to the shuttle bay. He blew a heavy breath, no doubt because of her morose expression. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She laughed suddenly, a jolt of humor sending depression fleeing for a moment. "You know what really hit me this morning, Nobek Selt? Of all the stupid things to get upset about, you know what made me bawl my eyes out?"

The handsome spy shook his head, sympathy and worry tightening his features. "What?"

"This!" She grabbed a handful of her formerly dark brown hair and waved it at him. What little she could, anyway. It had been cut shorter than she'd worn it before and colored honey blond as part of the effort to disguise her identity. "My hair. Can you believe it? New name, new face, new eye color, running for my life…but it was the hair that finally pushed me over the top."

It was true. Charity had gone under an assumed name in Galactic Council space, so it was no surprise changing it again hadn't rocked the boat. Dr. Hadlez's alterations to her facial structure had been subtle but had rendered a definite change in her appearance. Despite that, she'd been more fascinated by the narrower nose, slighter chin, and less defined cheekbones than taken aback, much to the physician's relief. "It's temporary, remember, easy to return to normal when it's safe to do so," he'd damned near pleaded before letting her see what he'd done.

The lenses changing her eyes from hazel to deep blue had been slightly unnerving, but Charity had coped decently. But the final ingredient of her transformation had overwhelmed her.

Though her curves had gotten the most attention from admirers through the years, it was her hair she loved best. Its color and thickness matched her mother's, and Charity had worn it to her midback and simply styled as Faith had, in a tribute to the parent who'd been taken from her too soon. To see it lightened and shaped in lovely but unfamiliar waves had felt like renewed loss. Thanks to such hair framing her altered face, Charity could no longer see the woman who'd given her life.

"It's a lot to adjust to," Selt agreed as they approached an official fleet shuttle, which would take Charity to what she referred to as Planet Farm Hell. "I wish we could have come up with a different solution."

She drew a breath. Be a grownup. "I appreciate what you've done for me. I really do. I hope I haven't seemed ungrateful."

"You've taken it better than many would, so don't worry. If it were me, I'd be ripping stuff apart." He paused as they reached the shuttle and took out his com. "Special guest coming on board. Clear the entry."

"Acknowledged." After a second, the deep voice on his com spoke again. "You may board."

Selt climbed the few steps to the open hatch ahead of Charity. "All clear. Come on up."

She did so and entered a small space. On either side of her were closed doors One led to the cockpit and the other, the passenger cabin.

She offered her hand to Selt. "Thanks again. Take care of my aunt and uncle."

He shook her hand, then bowed. "We will."

She hesitated before adding, "If it isn't too mushy for a Nobek, tell my sister I love her when she checks in or decides to stop roaming the galaxy."

He chuckled. "I think my pride can handle passing along your message."

He handed her the small carryall containing her most needed essentials. Her travel bin had already been loaded, or so she'd been told. Heaven help the shuttle personnel if her luggage went missing. She'd lost enough already.

"Safe travels," Selt said.

Charity nodded. She unpinned the chevron-shaped phase device from her blouse. She dropped it in his waiting palm.

Selt, still phased, disappeared the instant the device left her hand. The door to the main cabin opened as its sensors discovered her presence.

She turned to it and stepped in the passenger area. It was large, but besides a couple of bowing fleet attendants, only five people, all Kalquorians, occupied the space.

Plenty of room to spread out. In her depressed state of mind, she should have been relieved by the option to keep her distance from fellow passengers. She'd considered going to her sleeping cabin to hide for the three-day journey. But a member of the group was young…not merely young-looking as Kalquorians tended to be even in their forties and fifties…but truly young. Somewhere around her age, she was certain.

He was handsome as well, veering toward cute.

She tried to keep her glances at the man casual as she handed off her carry bag to a Nobek attendant who said he'd take it to her sleeping cabin. "You're free to sit wherever you wish. We're taking no additional passengers," he informed her.

She smiled acknowledgment, thanked him, and let her gaze dart to the eye candy. He was watching her. Was he an Imdiko? Or a Dramok? Dramok, she decided. His regard was too direct to be anything else. He had an injured air that subtracted slightly from an aura of control, which was what had initially confused her as to his breed.

The Kalquorian woman sitting next to him, curvier than the scant few of her kind Charity had seen, glanced at the young guy, then Charity. Her black brows rose.

Uh oh. Mom's scented a potential rival for her baby boy's attention. Charity repressed a smirk as she drew nearer the group. Her polite expression got harder to maintain when the woman pointedly glared at the elder man seated on her opposite side, who was definitely an Imdiko.

He didn't bother hiding his grin but stood as the rest of his clan and his supposed son did too. The men bowed to Charity as she came to their seats, two rows of three facing each other.

"Matara, are you traveling alone?" the older Dramok asked as he stood his full height of at least six-and-a-half feet. "Please join us if you'd like. I'm Dramok Codab. My clanmates, Matara Diju, Imdiko Jadel, and Nobek Gruthep. And our son."

The handsome-going-on-cute man smiled warmly at her, vanquishing the aura of hurt and rendering him gorgeous. He stepped in the aisle and indicated she should take his seat as his Imdiko father and mother moved over…both beaming at her. "I'm Dramok Ilid. Here, sit next to Mother, Matara—?"

"Jennifer Seng," she said, barely remembering in time to use her assumed name. "Thank you, but I hate to impose—"

"Not at all!" Diju enthused. "Sit right here next to me. Ilid can sit on the aisle seat; he doesn't mind. How nice to have someone close his age for him to talk to during this long trip to Haven…how old are you if you don't mind me asking?"

"Twenty." Charity took the offered seat, and they sat too.

"Lovely. Ilid is twenty-three, so you're bound to have lots in common."

Not a jealous mom after all. A mom eager to matchmake, perhaps dreaming of grandkids. "You're going to Haven?" None of them looked the farmer type.

"I own a few bakeries on Kalquor. I'm thinking of expanding. If Haven looks promising, my son will supervise the new shop," Diju said. "He's an excellent baker himself and wants to expand his management skills."

Definitely a matchmaker and pouring on the salesmanship. Charity wasn't sure if it was an improvement over the kind of mother for whom no woman was good enough for her baby chick. Since Ilid was easy on the eyes, she was willing to learn how much fun he might be.

His smile told her he didn't mind his mom talking him up. He must like what he sees, Charity supposed, and was reminded her appearance wasn't what it had been. Would he have been better attracted to the old her?

"It's very nice to meet you, Jennifer." The warmth in Ilid's gaze quieted the twinge of upset she wasn't herself.

"And you, Ilid. A baker, you say? I love a guy who can cook. Did you bring anything I can sample?" She poured on the innocence in her tone and smile to keep from affronting his parents with the innuendo.

A gleam in his regard told her he'd picked up on her hint. His smile broadened. The trip to Planet Farm Hell was beginning to look up.

* * * *

Galactic Council Space

Kila paced the quarters his clan had been assigned to. Part of him marveled at the size of the room, far more spacious than his clan's quarters on his spyship, which currently sat in a repair dock in Kalquorian space. A man could actually move around.

Hope had grumbled about the smell, but Kila rather enjoyed the animal-like musk. He also appreciated the drain in the middle of the attached lavatory, which doubled as a toilet…something else Hope strenuously objected to. "Who does their business in the damned shower?" she'd yelled when she learned how the facilities worked.

I'll buy her an Adraf-fur scarf if I can find a seller. It'll help her cope better.

For now, however, most of his mind puzzled over the fight they'd had at the orphanage. "I reviewed the footage we recorded of the battle at Mymah. The Darks aimed a few shots at the fighters and shuttles, but they mostly left them alone. They concentrated on firing at the spyship. A few warships could have blasted a number of the smaller vessels, then joined in the attempt to take us out. They didn't bother."

"For which I'm grateful. The children got away safe. I have no complaints." Piras stretched on the large sleeping mat that had been provided for the clan, relaxing for a change. He'd voiced no criticism when it came to the smell or the facilities. He seemed perfectly content at the moment.

"I'm not complaining either. I simply wonder why they wouldn't have gone for the easy targets. It's as if they took our turning and daring to fight them personally."

"They should have. I took them attacking the orphanage personally." Lokmi scowled at his computer, set on a table scrounged up for their use. He was checking the specs on the vessel they'd hitched a ride on. He was content when it came to their quarters, but he'd been pretty judgmental about the inefficient engines. He was hoping to talk his way into the engineering department and "fix this ridiculous bucket that has no right to call itself a ship," as he'd put it.

Her nose wrinkled, Hope listlessly stirred a cup of coffee. "I bet they were insulted. From what I heard from the prisoners we captured from the first squad that showed up at Open Arms, the Darks have insanely huge egos."

"I'm not sure I approve of you communicating with those things," Kila griped. "Just because you can hear them in your head doesn't mean you have to talk to them."

"We could learn important stuff, such as how to stop them in their tracks, if I can get them to admit a weakness."

"Have you begun studying the interrogation protocols I sent you?" Piras asked.

"Yeah. Pretty icky stuff when I think of using them against humans, Kalquorians, or most of our allies…but against the Darks, I'm all for it." She suddenly stood and went to the closet in the far wall. She rummaged through her travel bin until she found the light cologne she wore. She spritzed the air.

"You'll get used to it. You won't even notice the smell in a day or two," Kila told her.

"That's what you swore two days ago. I still feel as if I'm sleeping in a barn."

"Tell me more where the Darks' egos are concerned, my Matara. Do you believe they're self-absorbed enough for us to use it to our advantage?" Piras sat up, relaxation fleeing in favor of finding his enemy's weaknesses.

She considered. "The All thinks it's superior to every other life form. Hell, it's in the name it gave itself, isn't it? Only a raging narcissist would say, ‘I'm the All.' The Darks think of themselves as the All too…we Separates are abominations as far as they're concerned."

"What of the message you received from their dimension? From the entity that assumed your appearance? Did you ask the captured Darks about it?" Kila asked.

"I did, and they shut up quick after a moment of angry squawking. I only caught a single word… other . Or maybe the Other, like it's a capitalized name or title? They refused to share telepathic messages afterward, but I got the idea they aren't pals with whomever shares their dimension."

"The All and the Other. Huh." Kila went back to pacing, musing over the miniscule clue…if it were a clue.

A voice buzzed through the room. The entire clan alerted as it spoke. "Admiral Piras, Captain Kila, we have a visual on Jedver if you and your experts would care to join me on the bridge."

Piras was on his feet in an instant. "Thank you, Captain. We'll be there momentarily." He made no attempt to call their host by name…it was beyond Kalquorian or Earther capabilities to pronounce.

"Let's see what's out there." Kila noted how slow Lokmi was to leave his computer. He doubted it was solely because his clanmate was so intent on updating their host ship.

They traveled the corridors of the massive cargo freighter. They met no one on their way to the ship's brain center. The captain had been very careful to hire only crew he swore whose loyalty could be bought…at quite a high price, to hear Piras talk. It was a small crew, the members of whom Hope and Lokmi had viewed via vid to verify they hadn't been taken over by Darks.

What the hell. The money paying Clan Piras' way and the transport crew's silence had come from the empire's treasury, not their personal pocketbooks. Kila refused to worry about Kalquor picking up the tab for their latest mission.

The group stepped onto the cargo vessel's bridge. Hope wrinkled her nose for a moment at the thick woodsy smell of fur, then smoothed her expression. The smiling captain, a rust red Adraf, boomed a hearty greeting. "Nice to see you again. Please, come in, come in."

Kila glanced around, curious. He'd never been on board an Adraf craft before. The dark, vast space was a maze of glassed-in cubicles, within which the three-legged crew stood at tall podiums. The long-necked Adrafs wore visors, through which they peered. Tiny vestigial arms waved styluses at what Kila guessed were virtual reality screens.

Piras focused on their host. "No issues thus far from the Galactic Council fleet?"

The captain's furry muzzle wrinkled back from large gray teeth in the Adraf version of a smile. He spread his small hands in a careless gesture. "What's to excite their suspicions? Adraf has declared itself neutral, as we always do when worlds go to war. This is a normally scheduled delivery to Jedver's transit space station of staple goods. We're engaged in lawful commerce, and I have the proper documentation, which they'll find in perfect order. Your, uh, experts—" he nodded to Lokmi and Hope "—vetted and approved my crew. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm glad. I don't have to repeat our agreement for your crew's benefit?" Piras glanced at the Adraf personnel. None had acknowledged their presence, at least as far as Kila could tell. The visors hid their eyes.

"They're well aware. A second generous payment upon your safe return to your home space, including a bonus doubling whatever the Galactic Council offers should they suspect we have guests on board and try to buy our information."

Piras nodded, his taut jaw relaxing slightly. "Excellent."

"Would you like to see what you came to check on?"

"Please."

"Vid monitor, display magnified view."

Planet Jedver, seat of the Galactic Council of Planets, swam into view on a large holoscreen at the far end of the bridge. Kila had visited it on half a dozen occasions. To him, it looked no different than before: a blue-hued terrestrial world. A seemingly serene jewel in the black setting of space.

He'd angled himself so he could observe the planet and his clanmates at the same time. Piras had also assumed a similar pose. After a cursory glance at Jedver, his gaze trained on their Matara and Imdiko. Kila was also focused on the pair as they stared to the side of the world in order to see any Dark presence in their peripheral vision.

Big, muscled Imdiko and tiny pixie human wore identical stunned expressions, making them appear shockingly similar for the space of a second. Shouting an oath, Lokmi twisted away. His arm clutched his midsection and his hand clapped over his mouth, as if he were on the verge of being sick. Hope slammed both hands to her face hard, covering her eyes. She wailed, though Kila was unsure if it was from the pain of hitting herself or horror.

The Adraf captain gaped at their reactions. His earlier merriment had vanished. He looked from his passengers to Jedver's image and peered at it intently.

"What? Is it the same thing we saw at Bi'is or something else?" Piras demanded.

"It's huge," Hope sobbed from behind her palms. "It's so insanely huge."

"Chief," Kila boomed to Lokmi. "Report. How big are we talking?"

The Imdiko turned stricken eyes to him. "I can't see Jedver. The Dark is blocking the entire fucking planet, Captain. The planet, the stations and moons orbiting it, and beyond . It fills the whole vid image. "

"It's the All," Hope moaned. "It has to be the All itself, and it's swallowed Jedver."