Page 1 of Infiltration

Chapter One

Planet Jedver, Galactic Council of Planets central world

“The team we sent to inspect Bi’is has reported in, sir. You’ve been asked to meet with them right away.”

Dramok Mereta, secretary-general of the Galactic Council of Planets, regarded his assistant Tulbayn with mild interest. “So soon? They don’t wish to wait a day or two?”

Tulbayn, an emerald-furred Joshadan who typically wore a serene smile, appeared disconcerted. “They insisted it’s important they report their findings to you as soon as possible. I told them it wasn’t protocol, but Commander Nezlo said you’d want to hear their news immediately.”

“Most extraordinary.” Mereta leaned his elbows on his polished desk. His long fingers wove together, but for the indexes, which steepled. He settled his chin on the fingertips, letting the gentle music of a Plasian string quartet enter his senses. Such beautiful music, a feast for the soul. He directed his attention to Tulbayn once again. “Nezlo didn’t ask to call together the full council for an emergency session?”

“No, Secretary-General. He said you should listen to what they learned first, as his report is of a sensitive nature.”

Mereta considered, reaching for the quietest part of his mind as his gaze drifted over an arrangement of pure white flowers on his desk. The Bi’is inspection team had encountered a situation important enough to bring immediately to him, but not to the entire council. Had such an occasion ever come up in the past? If so, he hadn’t heard of it, and he’d been around a very long time.

Alneusians, the species to which Commander Nezlo belonged, weren’t known for excitability. Mereta wasn’t well acquainted with him, but he understood Nezlo was held in high regard. His competence couldn’t be in question, as only the best negotiators and diplomats were capable of dealing with the troublesome Bi’isils. Troublesome indeed, despite being kept under the Galactic Council’s thumb since their attempt to destroy Mereta’s home planet of Kalquor five years prior.

“I take it I have time to see Nezlo, as my last appointment canceled.”

Tulbayn, used to Mereta’s silences and contemplations, treated the lengthy pause after he’d last spoken as if it hadn’t happened. “There’s an hour free before you’re to address the Appropriations Committee.”

“Can the commander come now?”

“He’s in reception already, sir. He and the rest of his team.”

Surprise sought to disturb Mereta. He acknowledged it without a tremor of irritation, merely interest in his own reaction. “The entire team?”

“Yes, Secretary-General.”

“They came straight from docking their ship?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“My, my, Tulbayn. I wonder what it was they discovered on Bi’is?” He leaned back in his leather hover chair and contemplated the softly illuminated ceiling.

“It must have been notable.”

“Indeed. I suppose I should discover what the excitement’s about. Will you show them to the conference room? I’ll join them in a moment.”

“Yes, Secretary-General.” Tulbayn bowed as a Kalquorian would, despite knowing Mereta’s objections to such demonstrations. She hurried out of his office before he could rebuke her.

He smiled at the door, which had closed behind her. Joshadans were a most remarkable race. Simple, kind, unassuming. Above all, forgiving. The galaxy could learn from Tulbayn’s people. Civilization would be a more peaceful place to live if its residents did so.

Mereta closed his eyes and sank into a meditative state almost immediately. At nearly a hundred and fifty years of age, much of his adult years spent as a Temple of Life priest, it was more accurate to say he deepened the quietness his consciousness resided in. Calm flowed through him and blissful silence filled his mind.

Whatever Nezlo and his team reported, whatever malicious mischief the Bi’isils were up to after five years of quiet, the universe remained indestructible. The knowledge ruled Mereta’s outlook on life and kept him calm, even in the face of calamity. His unwavering steadiness had made him secretary-general when he’d have just as soon retired to teach his disciples on Kalquor. Duty and service were his mandate, however, so Mereta had allowed the approximately two hundred member planets of the Galactic Council to set the burden on his shoulders.

A few minutes later, he left his office. His pace unhurried, Dramok Mereta drifted down a short corridor to the conference room in his professional suite. Its door was open, but he heard no sound of conversation. Odd.

He entered the room. He’d traveled several steps before he noticed the myriad aliens awaiting him. Or rather, the strange, dark shadows sitting upon their shoulders, arms or tentacles ringing the inspection team’s necks.

The door shut behind him. Tulbayn’s trill of a voice called from behind him. “Door, lock.”

Mereta swiveled, his official white robes whispering on the soft carpet. Tulbayn’s eyes, emerald to match her fur, gazed at him from a few feet away. Her kindly features wore cold dislike, almost making her unrecognizable.

A dark blob of shadow clung to her.

“Tulbayn, you aren’t yourself,” Mereta said. His gaze swept the rest of the group, the inspection team. “None of you are. Is this Bi’is’ doing?”

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