Rebel Risk: A Sci Fi Alien Romance

(Alien Resistance Book 1) Skye Stark

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 Rebel Risk
ALIEN RESISTANCE BOOK 1
SKYE STARK
MILLSTONE BOOKS
Rebel Risk

Copyright © 2023 by Skye Stark

Cover by The Book Brander

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual organizations, events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this
book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
 Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45

About the Author

Chapte r

One
APRIL

“A rtai is very excited to see you and start his classes, there has been far too long a gap between
you and his previous tutor.”
The woman who was leading me down the corridor was tall; very tall. She had broad shoulders
and strong, large hands which were dripping with silver rings. Her highly defined features were
beautiful in an exaggerated way. I practically had to run to keep up—difficult to do while also trying
to look serious and make a good impression. My bag had been taken from me by a stony-faced
soldier, but I was carrying a box of education materials, which also made it hard to do anything with
grace. Not that grace was something I was known for at the best of times.
Racai, who was leading the way through the Palace, is the wife of the Director General of Earth,
Valrath Xaldai. Getting the role of tutor to their youngest son was a real coup that I still didn’t quite
believe I had achieved, but then, I had worked hard for the last couple of years to get to this point.
I was led into a vast hallway with red carpets and white and gold detailing around the walls and
columns. There were rectangular marks on the walls where paintings had been removed—portraits of
the last residents, I assumed—but much of the highly ornate furniture, along with many expensive
ceramics and statues, remained. It felt and looked cold, impersonal, tatty.
When the Naldarr had taken over Earth and chosen to use London as their European base, they had
commandeered many of the most beautiful buildings that had survived the still-raging war.
Buckingham Palace had suffered from heavy bombardment and portions of it were uninhabitable, but
enough of it had survived that it remained an impressive building, and the message sent out by it
becoming the new home of the Director General was more than worth the work that needed doing and
any possible inconvenience.
To members of the alien Xaldai Clan, Buckingham Palace is a haven; the claustrophobic, dark and
frightening city that London has become is easy to ignore from behind the velvet curtains. To me, it is
just another example of how the Naldarr set out to cause death and destruction, forcing an entire
planet’s population to their knees and keeping the best of what remained for themselves, despite
saying they had come to save us and our dying world, that they are on our side and want to work with
us to ensure Earth could become strong and productive again.
Bollocks.

“YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL HOME.” Which you stole after shedding a great deal of blood.
Racai appeared genuinely grateful for my comment. She certainly didn’t betray any signs of guilt
over the fact that her people had simply come in and taken it.
“Thank you. We are very happy here, it is the perfect location. Valrath and I have room to
entertain members of the General Council with ease.” Her speech was stilted. The Naldarr
understand and speak English perfectly with the aid of an implant at the base of their cranium, but
their words are delivered in a formal speech pattern that only adds to the impression of an
unapproachable, cold race.
She held herself erect with impeccable posture. I am familiar with the physical features of the
Naldarr; their oversized although proportional bodies add to the fear they instill in others. Racai’s
choice of clothing hid her most striking feature (if you forgot her enormous stature): the array of
markings on her arms and legs. These represent her clans, but to Human eyes look a little like the
white lines of old scars, and take the pattern that has been passed down from generation to generation,
the end result on the child being a combination of the markings on each parent’s body. It is common
for the females’ clothing to hide these marks; the men, however, display more of theirs.
The majority of the males enter the military at a young age, their uniforms revealing their muscular
arms, and therefore their clan markings. The close-fitting trousers show the outline of tightly muscled
thighs. Their skin-tight tunics reveal solid upper bodies, carved like those of Greek statues. It seems
that they are all about displaying their strength to those they dominate, or hope to dominate. They are
like male Humans on steroids, and could be attractive if you didn’t mind the scowl that seems to be
permanently etched into their foreheads. Or that they are killers.
The Naldarr are a warrior race, so were the perfect choice to make up the majority of the military
forces of the General Council that oversees the Milky Way, Andromeda and Valda Galaxies. Although
the General Council is made up of multiple races from the three galaxies, none is as fearsome as the
Naldarr, who gradually made the Council almost entirely their domain. Other species are now part of
the leadership for political leverage only. The word ‘warrior’ is singularly appropriate in relation to
the Naldarr: they are disciplined, well-trained bullies, no more, no less. Phrases like peace keeping
and world revivification are occasionally bandied about, but that is simply lip service.
The Naldarr aren’t interested in peace and would attempt to save only their own asses in a tight
corner. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.
Chapte r

Two
APRIL

“T his will be your classroom. Artai has a tendency to be distracted, so we have intentionally
chosen a room without much of a view.”
She wasn’t kidding.
Racai pulled back a curtain to reveal the window’s view out onto some kind of service yard. The
only thing of interest out there was going to be watching the pigeons take a shit as they colonized the
roof of a shed. She waited patiently as I viewed the room. It didn’t take long: it was small and wood
paneled with a large desk and a number of empty bookcases. I briefly thought about trying to brighten
the room up—for my sake, if not the young Naldarr’s—but I reminded myself that I wasn’t planning
on being here for very long.
“I will show you to your room. It is up a rather large number of stairs, I am afraid, but I am sure
you can cope.” Racai smiled warmly. I lived only a couple of miles away, on the Southside of the
Thames, but the post of tutor had been advertised as a live-in one. That was perfect for what I had in
mind, so I’d had no issue leaving behind my small, sparsely furnished flat. I wouldn’t miss its view of
a smoke-belching waste plant and, beyond that, the jagged remains of the broken city. Each time I
looked out of the window it was painful to see, and yet at the same time, the anger it generated
continued to feed my need to fight back against the species that had invaded my planet. For now,
however, a room in a palace with large, lush, recently replanted gardens would be a nice change, an
attractive backdrop to the work I needed to carry out.
Racai led the way up a flight of stairs, climbing at a dignified pace. She could have had one of
countless staff show me to my room, and her choice not to indicated that there was a small amount of
warmth and humility in the Naldarr female. As we passed rooms on the way, I tried to get a glimpse
of what lay inside; it was important that I became intimately familiar with the layout of the house. I
would need to be able to find my way around quickly and often in the dark. Plans were one thing, the
reality of a physical building another.
As we continued up, I felt like a child compared to my unusually tall host. It wasn’t just the height
that was intimidating, but also her broad back and thick limbs. I am slim even by Human standards,
but I have worked hard to make sure that I am strong. Being light and fast can often be better than
lumbering around under the weight of oversized muscle. Hand-to-hand combat has never daunted me,
there aren’t many situations I can’t slip or wiggle my way out of. Plus, most opponents underestimate
me because of my size and are surprised when I either leave them broken or am the last thing they see
as I take the life from them there and then.
Another set of stairs led to the attic rooms. Where the servants belong, I thought. Keep us
Humans in our place. But I was pleasantly surprised by the room Racai led me to. Although all the
rooms at this level are low-ceilinged, which explains why they have not been converted for use by the
family, they are light and airy, and walls appeared to have been removed to make the usually tiny
spaces into something perfectly habitable.
I walked over to the window.
“I do hope this will suffice,” said Racai from the doorway, making no attempt to enter.
“Perfectly.” I meant it. From here, I could see many of the comings and goings at the side entrance
to the Palace. This I knew to be the key entry point, except for ceremonial events when the front
entrance is used, and there are rarely any of those. I could watch as visitors came and went, and I was
certain I would be out of sight of anyone below. I couldn’t have asked for a better room.
“Well then, I will leave you to settle in. If you return to the classroom in an hour, we will have
Artai ready for his first lesson.” She left and I could hear her footsteps as she made her way back
down the stairs. Closing the door, I started unpacking my small case, which had been brought up
ahead of us. I didn’t have much; I’d known that my bag would be searched. I couldn’t risk anyone
finding a single thing that pointed towards my real reason for being here. Not that I didn’t have ways
of smuggling in what I needed.
I was used to packing light; as part of the Resistance, I had moved around the country, helping to
attack munitions factories and airbases. We had sabotaged communication systems and moved black-
market food and goods to those who needed it the most. But for the last few years, I had been working
towards the position I now found myself in, taking tutoring jobs within the homes of lower-ranking
Naldarr officials to ensure that I could get the kind of references I would need to secure this job,
which would give me access to Valrath and an opportunity to gain valuable information. I was taking
a huge risk, but I would do whatever was necessary. While others my age were getting married and
having children, I had better things to do with my time. This was the only life I knew; it had been the
work of my parents, and now it was my turn.

I LEANED against the wall and watched out of the window. Two officers—one arriving, one departing
—chatted in the courtyard that led to the side gate, watched over by soldiers who were patrolling the
grounds. Their large build, erect posture and muscular bodies were a powerful sight, but I didn’t
intend to take them on in a fight. Not unless I had to. This job was about information gathering, and a
chance to get rid of the main players in the Earth-based Council.
A well-placed bomb timed to go off during an important meeting would have a huge impact on the
Council’s capabilities, and while the members scrambled to find another leader and re-establish calm
among their ranks, the Resistance groups would have a chance to cause further havoc. Taking lives
has never given me sleepless nights, not if it is done with the goal of regaining freedom for Humans
and creating an opportunity to take back control of Earth. If anything, each death of a Council tyrant
helps me sleep a little easier, and if all went to plan during my time at Buckingham Palace, I would be
sleeping peacefully for some time.
Chapte r

Three
TAMRAI

I greeted my father with the customary bow. He is Director General of Earth first, father second,
and only when the ritual display of authority had been observed could our conversation turn to more
familial matters.
He was standing behind an old wooden desk. I was sure a part of him hoped that the regal status
of its previous owners would rub off on him. This room, purely for show, was where Father would
entertain his visitors when their meetings were over.
“I trust you are well.”
“I am, Father.”
The buttons on his uniform gleamed. The moving colors of his award patches glowed and danced,
awards that hadn’t been won due to much time on the battlefield. He had politicked his way to the top.
“Your tour of duty was a successful one. I am pleased to see that Aldine can be added to those
planets under our control with no more than the expected amount of losses. You can now enjoy your
period of rest before you lead the Ground Force out on Zandar.”
I nodded. The expected amount of losses rankled; I would have liked there to have been fewer,
but the General Council wasn’t concerned with minimizing losses of the opposition.
As he spoke, I took in the figure before me. Father remains impressive in his advancing years. It is
difficult for our kind to lose form and muscle, but not impossible. Healthy and strong looking, he is
tall, even by our standards, and his dark eyes appear to be examining everything and everyone. I
could feel him searching me as we spoke, trying to find a weakness.
That wasn’t just about me, though, he does it with everyone. It is how he rose through the ranks
during his career. He has no qualms about finding a crack in someone’s armor, and then targeting it
over and over again until they give way. His face hides most of his emotions; pleasure and pride are
not things I have seen very often, and when I do, they are normally a result of a successful battle,
another planet taken over, a ship destroyed.
None of this is shocking to me; it is a life I was born into. Unlike Artai, I and my other brother
were sent to military school from an early age, our learning directed at a future in battle, and I was a
quick learner. I am strong and fast. I have inherited the same aggressive streak my father possesses
and have been able to channel that aggression into a swift fighting style that has left many dead before
they even realized it was I who turned their world dark.
I was a model student at school, destined for great things and expected to follow my father through
the ranks just as quickly. My older brother struggled to keep up with me, which resulted in a
resentment towards me he still carries. But I prefer combat and, given the choice, hand-to-hand
combat; if I’m going to be responsible for a death, I want to do it with a level of awareness that does
not involve hiding behind the sights of a blaster, or a meeting table.
 After a brief discussion with my father about my last tour of duty, I moved the conversation to
family.
“Mother is…?”
“Showing Artai’s new tutor around. I am hoping we have more luck with this one. Your brother
should have been sent to the academy like you.” He gave a low growl. “I was a fool to allow your
mother to convince me otherwise. Permitting her to have a few more years with him at home may well
result in future failings. Perhaps this new tutor can help avoid that outcome.”
“Human?”
“Yes, although she comes well recommended from a member of the trading committee, so I am
satisfied she will do the job well.”
I don’t have any strong feelings about the presence of a Human in the house; those that do enter are
staff. They know what is expected of them. If anything, their weakness irritates me; they had largely
destroyed their own planet, and then when we arrived, they gave it up far too quickly. I spend little
time with them.
It had been wrong of Mother to keep Artai at home, this was one area where I agreed
wholeheartedly with my father. Having had a softer experience than Estair and me, he will not be
well prepared for the life he is expected to live, or at least he will be behind those of his age when
the time comes. It is only delaying the inevitable, and the academy will come as a shock to him when
he is eventually sent there. But I also know that on the rare occasions my mother crosses my father, he
finds it hard not to accept her requests. She is as strong-willed as he when she wants to be. I have
often thought it a shame that she was not destined to have a career of her own, she would have made a
formidable officer. It is not unusual for our females to take high-ranking military positions, but that
was not a path my mother chose.

THE DOOR BURST open and the broad figure of Estair strode in.
“Brother! You are back! I hope you brought a few heads with you. I have long believed we should
line the main courtyard with some of our trophies, remind our enemies what fate awaits them when
they cross us. Staring into the dead eyes of others will calm any feelings of rebellion.”
He slapped me on the back, then turned to the Director General. “Father, the Council members are
here, they have been taken to your map room.”
Father nodded and left the room in silence. Estair and I stood face to face. He is my elder by two
years and looks it. His short black hair has probably been measured to ensure it is the correct length.
I know he disapproves of the way I keep my hair long, but I don’t really care what he thinks. Dressed
as I was, in a gray uniform that left our arms bare, his body bore the markings of our clan, but that was
it; he doesn’t carry any of the marks of war. He had risen quickly to the rank of General and spent
little time getting close enough to the frontline to have earned the scars of battle.
 Estair is known as a harsh leader with little patience and it is his plan to follow Father into the
role of Director General when the time comes. He has no time for those who prefer diplomacy; to
him, it is a waste of effort that achieves little and takes far too long. Even when we were children, I
often found myself playing a negotiating role between him and the other young Naldarr. His lack of
empathy made it difficult for him to maintain friendships and, despite our differences, I always
wanted to smooth the path between him and others of the same age.
“Zandar awaits. You will face some opposition; the Krillin have been stupid enough to fight
before, but you will quell this skirmish quickly, I am sure.”
“Perhaps.”
He gave me a hard stare. “That attitude will not help. Father expects this to be dealt with quickly.
It will not be long until you too are rewarded with the position of General, if you want it.”
There was a pause that clearly unsettled Estair. “Brother? We can expect to see you lead with a
clear determination, correct? We have high expectations of you.”
I couldn’t help but give a low growl of annoyance; his attitude irritated me. I was the better, faster
warrior and we both knew it, but Estair often played on his higher rank.
“I have never let the Council down, nor will I. Zandar will be under the control of the General
Council before the month is out.” I stormed out of the room, my fist curling. Estair should be grateful
for my self-control; the fury that I felt, which was common after any more than five minutes in his
presence, would one day land me in trouble.
Chapte r

Four
APRIL

I sat at my desk, watching the young Naldarr. I’d set him some work on his holopad and he was
concentrating furiously as he played what really amounted to a game with a few learning outputs. I
had wanted to measure his capabilities, and doing that with something more akin to a game tended to
get my young students onside quickly. The added bonus was I could put my feet up for a while.
It had always amused me that I’d ended up in these roles, where I had to behave myself and
couldn’t just speak my mind. I’d been plied with alcohol, flattered profusely and told I was good at
acting, after which I’d agreed that I’d put up with the snotty offspring of our enemy, all in the name of
achieving the aims of the Resistance.
I could hear footsteps outside the door, the solid thud of military boots, the scurry of staff. As I’d
made my way from my room to the classroom, I had glimpsed what lay behind doors and around
corners, starting to build up the mental map of the house that I would need later. Fortunately, as a
building that had survived the attacks on London rather than been built by the Naldarr from scratch,
Buckingham Palace was of a layout that made sense to me. I say it made sense, but it’s not like I’d
spent much time in palaces; more like zero time in palaces. Nonetheless, its layout was easy to
remember. Turn left by the bust of Achilles, turn right by the marble statue of Narcissus, that kind of
thing.
Artai looked up from time to time, no doubt keen to study his new tutor, but he would quickly
return to the hologram in front of him. We were still sitting in silence when the door burst open and hit
the wall behind it with a crack, making me drop the book I was reading.
I calmed myself quickly, recognizing the tall figure who strode in. Tamrai Xaldai, the middle son,
was a Captain who spent most of his time on the frontline. I hadn’t been sure that I would see him
while I was here.
“Artai!”
The boy spun around in his seat, and then leaped up into the arms of the Naldarr who had just
entered. Artai’s legs swung free as they hugged, before he was returned to the floor and I could study
the tall creature who’d had the cheek to barge in on our lesson. In actual fact, I didn’t mind; he wasn’t
too bad to look at and he was a welcome distraction.
Tamrai was typical of the soldiers I had seen around the house. A steel-gray sleeveless top
formed a second skin as it clung to every sculpted muscle on his torso. His arms, tanned and carrying
the scars of both his clan and battle, looked to be carved from rock; I couldn’t resist but trace with my
eyes the line of a vein that snaked down one. Dark hair reached his shoulders. Close-fitting trousers
embraced strong thighs and did little to conceal his manhood; as far as I could see, this was most
definitely in proportion to his height, which must have been just over 7 foot. He was average height
by Naldarr standards. I had seen taller, but strength and confidence radiated from him.
 There was a lightness and display of fondness in the way he engaged with his brother, but I knew
that he was as dangerous as any other Naldarr soldier and I would need to remain on guard. This was
the son of a man whose murder I was here to plan and carry out. Valrath’s heirs were the next in line
for the most senior position on the General Council—heirs that included Tamrai—and an attack that
took them all out in one go was the optimal aim.
His being here was a bonus I hadn’t expected. Never one to ignore an opportunity, I would grab
this one with both hands.

TAMRAI WAS SITTING on the corner of Artai’s desk as I continued to take in the physique of the
Naldarr who in less than a week could be dead. I imagined how I would take him down if he
threatened me. I’d target his legs, try to get him on the floor. From there, I knew I could control things.
Mentally checking off possible weaknesses on his body, before long, I reached his face. His dark
eyes were watching me intently, the smirk on his lips unsettling. Crap! He’d caught me staring. Well,
hopefully he’d think I was just some weak young girl who was entranced by his muscles. The smirk
that still hadn’t left his lips told me he knew how attractive he was; knew his own strength, knew
what females—Human or otherwise—were thinking when they looked at him.
But, damn it, he was good-looking. I had steered clear of relationships, other than short-lived
flings and one-night stands that fulfilled a need. I had too much to do and they were a distraction. I
also didn’t know who I could trust; our network of Resistance fighters was tight-knit, but there had
been leaks and betrayals over the years, so even among my own I had to be careful.
Finding a Naldarr attractive was something I had never considered before, and it wasn’t
something that I was going to start giving much thought to, either. He was a blood-hungry monster
responsible for the death of countless Humans. His grandfather had been the one to lead the initial
attack on Earth. I gave myself a quick mental shake and checked to make sure my face had maintained
a serious expression and wasn’t giving anything away.
Tamrai stood up slowly as if he knew any movement caused his muscles to tense. He was showing
off, the arrogant prat. He took a couple of long strides, stopped in front of my desk and offered me his
hand. It was a Human gesture that I didn’t see much between Naldarr. He seemed to be studying me,
calmly waiting to see how I would respond.
I stood and shook his hand; it engulfed mine.
“So, you are the new tutor. Let us hope you are able to keep this little monster under control, he
can be quite hard work.”
“Shut up, Tam, I am not.” Artai scowled, and then grinned as Tamrai turned back to smile at him.
“You will need to work together to ensure that Mother did not make a mistake in keeping him
home longer than is usual,” Tamrai said, facing me again. “I did not have the luxury of home schooling
and our tutors at the Military Academy were not…” He fixed me with an unnervingly deep look that
lost some of the gentleness he was showing his brother “…let us say they were rather different.” I
knew what he was getting at: the Military Academy that the Naldarr attend is notoriously brutal, but it
churns out the best soldiers in this galaxy, and the neighboring ones.
He scanned his eyes down my body, or what he could see of it; I hadn’t moved from behind the
desk. His face had taken on a hard expression, and he was assessing me, but whether it was to work
out if I was some kind of threat or simply to see if I was worth using for physical gratification, I
couldn’t tell. Either way, it was unnerving. I hoped he would come to the conclusion that I was like
any other tutor: studious, quiet and very well behaved. I took care to keep my breathing slow and
steady.
His eyes were still fixed on me and it was getting annoying. I was glad Artai was in the room. I
didn’t want to have to deal with what might have come my way had he not been there. Nonetheless, I
needed to break the weird mood.
“I can assure you, I will do my best to prepare your brother for whatever the future holds for
him.”
Tamrai again glanced down at my body. I wanted to tell him to pack it in, that it was all getting
boringly predictable; he was showing me he had the power, seeing if I was intimidated, blah, blah,
blah. I stared back. He brought his eyes back to mine and smiled when he saw I was watching.
Without warning, he spun on his heels, gave his brother a friendly pat on the back and left the
room. I walked over to the door that he had rudely left open and closed it firmly; slamming it
probably wasn’t a good idea. As I walked back to my desk, I concluded that yes, Tamrai was good-
looking, but he was also a prick.
Chapte r

Five
TAMRAI

I t always took me a while to get used to life back at the Palace. I returned here as infrequently as
possible; I had no qualms about my father’s need for a home that befits his status, but it is simply a
life I am no longer used to. If it were not for my mother and Artai, I would return even less than I do.
After my first encounter with Estair and his usual arrogance, I needed some light relief, which I
knew that Artai would provide. He was in the middle of a tutorial, but that didn’t matter as his new
tutor wouldn’t have the nerve to say anything to me. She worked for us. Time with Artai was so
different than my usual gritty soldier’s life; fighting for a cause was where I felt most at home, but my
younger sibling allowed me to let some of that hard life slide to the back of my mind.
After he had leaped into my arms, I lowered him to the floor and glanced over at the tutor who
was sitting at her desk, watching silently. I was surprised. I hadn’t expected a woman quite so young,
or attractive. I caught her looking at me in detail; it took a little while for her eyes to stop moving up
my body and settle on my face. There was a curiosity and determination in her features, and she made
no attempt to hide a strength of character that I found fascinating.
“So, you are the new tutor. Let us hope you are able to keep this little monster under control, he
can be quite hard work.” I meant it as a challenge; another instruction from the family, pressure she
should be aware of. She didn’t flinch.
“I can assure you, I will do my best to prepare your brother for whatever the future holds for
him.” She met my eye; she had nerve. As a Human member of staff, she should show more
submissiveness in her demeanor. I could only hope for my young brother’s sake that she would learn
what was expected, otherwise she would leave as quickly as she had arrived, and the constant
turnover of tutors was not good for him.
Now I was here, I wanted to leave with Artai and walk through the gardens with him, spend
valuable time with him before I left on my next mission. It gave me great pleasure to hear his youthful
ideas, but I knew that his studies must come first. Before leaving, I looked at the tutor again; she was
small, which is not uncommon for Humans, but she held herself straight and proud. She looked fit and
I could see that her pale, smooth skin concealed healthy muscles. Her hair was a golden copper
brown; tied back, it gave her a stern look suitable for a Human teacher.
She returned my gaze the whole time, watching the movement of my eyes. I couldn’t help but find
this amusing. Perhaps she might provide some welcome relief. My last tour of duty had been a bloody
one and I needed to empty my mind of the horrors and prepare for my next fight. Fucking this rather
pretty young Human might just do the job. If she remained in this role for any length of time, she could
be on call each time I returned to the house.
For a brief moment, my thoughts ran away with me and I wondered what it would be like to feel
her beneath me, on that desk. I could feel heat rising in my cock; it was time to go.
I turned, gave Artai a wink and left.
Chapte r

Six
APRIL

I sprawled across my bed and stared at the ceiling. I would never completely relax here; I knew
that on the floors below me, plans were being made that would involve the takeover of planets in the
same way that Earth had been seized. The might of the Naldarr was too strong to be stopped with
sheer force.
As much as I enjoyed getting stuck in, found the frontline of battle to be thrilling and babysitting
kids tiresome, I knew the value of what I was doing. I focused on my role as tutor. I wouldn’t have to
do it for long, but as long as I did this job, I had to be convincing; I had to become a familiar face as
quickly as possible, I had to be trusted. I had to become invisible in the way that many of the staff
were, so that no one would ask questions as I wandered the halls, learning the layout of the building.
The first class with Artai had gone well. His mother had been right, he was easily distracted. I
knew that peppering me with questions was just his way of avoiding work, but it was nothing I
couldn’t handle, and the right kind of exercises and projects refocused his attention. The backstory I
had created about my life was holding up well to the curiosity of the young Naldarr: born to older
parents, both teachers who had died some years ago, I was passionate about continuing the family
tradition in education. I had kept it simple and described a life in London that was as close to the truth
as possible, it was harder to get tripped up that way.
However, I could have done without the interruption from Tamrai. That he was strong and
handsome was to be expected, as the family members were all very striking. And he shared their
arrogance, although it didn’t seem quite as strong in him as it was in his older brother and father, both
of whom I had watched from a distance before my arrival. I had listened to recordings of their
meetings when they had been bugged by a previous Resistance fighter who spent time working here in
the kitchens before it got too dangerous for him to remain. The idiot had drunk too much one night and
made a few comments that raised the suspicions of the other staff. I had also watched many of the
Director General’s speeches on the large screens that had been placed around the city.
Tamrai didn’t have quite the same edge, but he was one of them and just as dangerous. As such, he
was a target for the Resistance too. I had to admit that I was a little concerned that he might have been
able to read my curiosity about him. OK, so curiosity is the wrong word; he was as sexy as hell, but I
could not and would not be attracted to him. It had been a long time since I’d had so much as a
drunken fuck; I was never looking for more than that, and certainly not from a Naldarr, for stars’ sake!
There were relationships within the Resistance, of course, but I didn’t see any sense in it.
Emotions only clouded things. But the way Tamrai had looked at me—I couldn’t be certain, but I
thought he had spent a little too long lingering over my body. It could simply have been a power play
on his part, reminding me who was in charge, who controlled the relationship, but I was sure there
was more to it than that. He had seemed genuinely fascinated.
 I closed my eyes and traced the lines of his body in my mind. Each powerful muscle forced itself
against his skin. The marks of his clan swirled over and around his arms; some followed the line of
his neck and vanished under his hairline. His skin showed the scars of war, but if anything, that made
him even sexier. I smiled as I remembered allowing myself a quick glance at his crotch, the outline of
his cock pressed against his tight trousers. He was well endowed, that was for sure, but the difference
in size between our two species meant he was probably far too big for me—a thought which gave me
a momentary thrill.
I shook my head. April, focus! I scolded myself silently. The only thrill I was seeking was the one
I would feel when the Naldarr had been brought down, the General Council was once again a
democratic organization, and we had our planet back.

A LOW BUZZING was coming from my bag and I pulled out my holopad. I was allowed to have my own
in the house as I was preparing lessons for Artai, but it was a Resistance-owned and altered pad,
which meant that when it was scanned by the Naldarr technical officer on my arrival, it didn’t reveal
all of the programs running on it. It also concealed the true names, identities and contact details of
anyone I used it to communicate with. Even if I had succeeded in convincing them that I was a genuine
tutor, the Naldarr still might choose to do further checks and try to track down the ‘friends’ I chatted to
regularly.
Heather was one of those who I would have very regular contact with. Seemingly a friend I had
met at teaching college, she was really a senior member of the Resistance and my lead contact. A few
years older than me, she had a calm, measured influence on those around her. She wasn’t prone to
panic, her decision making always well informed, but she didn’t take prisoners and was most
definitely someone you wanted on your side. She was loyal, too, like the older sister I had never had
and often wished had been in my life. Heather had been chosen as my main contact as we had an easy-
going friendship that, if anyone were eavesdropping, would convey genuine affection and trust.
Heather’s smiling face appeared on the screen. Her dark-brown hair, pulled back in a rough
ponytail, was damp and I guessed she had just returned from the gym. When she wasn’t working, that
was where Heather could be found, day or night.
“Hey, good to see you. Just thought I’d check in on how your first day went.” Straight down to
business, but with a smile, that was Heather.
“Fine. The kid’s nice and I’ve met some of the family.” The kid was irritating, but if someone was
listening…
“Good. Look, I was wondering if you fancied a drink. Raise a glass to your first day at work. I’ll
make sure you don’t stay up too late and you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.”
“Sure, I’d like that.”
Two friends going out to celebrate a first day in a new job. There was nothing suspicious about
that, only I knew it meant Heather wanted to talk, and not about teaching.
Chapte r

Seven
APRIL

“I had a call from Elliot, he’s getting jumpy. They’re starting to see some Naldarr troop movement
heading north towards Scotland and they’ve been unable to work out what’s going on. He wants
you to shorten your schedule and get as much data as you can as quickly as you can; he thinks the
bastards are planning something.”
Heather looked vaguely apologetic as she spoke. I hadn’t even been at the Palace one night yet.
We were in a pub not far from the Thames. It looked just as it had hundreds of years ago, having
avoided any bomb damage, apart from one big difference: the array of species. A couple of Rils were
having a heated debate in the corner, their eye stalks waving around as they made their point, while an
Ak was working behind the bar, his third eye handy for spotting which customer was next and
ensuring there were no queue jumpers.
“I’m sorry. I did tell him this was pushing his luck, but he’s pretty adamant.” Heather was drinking
Cal, a mod liquid that was far too sweet for me. I preferred a glass of Oneb—the closest thing I could
get to beer, which was solely available on the black market. “He’s worried they’re planning on
bringing more troops in from the Valda Galaxy prior to the next attack across Europe; we know
there’s a troop ship heading our way. Elliot wants to be ready and able to respond before the new
soldiers can really get settled.”
This demand didn’t entirely surprise me; there was never a time when the Resistance wasn’t
under pressure. I looked out of the window at a view of the Shard, or what was left of the once-proud
glass skyscraper. It really was a shard now, half its original height with jagged edges where it had
been hit during the initial takeover of London. The view was disheartening to many Humans, but a
point of pride for the Naldarr.
Down, but not out: that was what I tried to take from it. A symbol for those Humans who were
determined to get our planet back, one way or another. I listened as Heather continued talking.
“He wants to have two attacks planned so they take place simultaneously. Take out the troops in
Scotland and ambush those who arrive from Valda at the same moment, preventing them getting
together and presenting a stronger force. It will all take a lot of planning and coordination, and we
don’t want to be on the back foot.”
I didn’t like the idea of trying to speed things up too much, which was how mistakes could be
made, but I understood Elliot’s point of view. Resistance groups were popping up all over the
continents and we knew that there was a large-scale plan within the Naldarr to target them and finally
make Earth a completely docile planet. We Humans had shown more spirit and determination than
they had expected.
To be honest, I didn’t much like Elliot. He was abrasive and, as far as he was concerned, never
wrong, but he was astute and good at his job.
 “Can you do it?”
I screwed my face up in an expression of distaste. “I can try, but I don’t want to push it too hard.
It’s a big building with a lot of people, it’s not going to be difficult to get caught. If I start popping up
in places I’m not meant to be, which is most of them, someone is going to notice. I’d hate to put the
whole plan in jeopardy.” I paused, then gave Heather a lopsided grin. “But you know I like a
challenge. I’ll see what I can do.”
Heather clapped her hands together. “That’s the April I know and love. For stars’ sake, be careful,
though. Is there another way of getting close to the information we want?”
“Such as? I’m practically sleeping on top of it, I’m not sure I could get much closer.”
“I mean, is there someone on the inside who might be able to help you get what we need?”
I knew what Heather meant and I gave a loud sigh. “That’s never been my style and you know it.
I’ve done months of prep work for this; hell, Heather, everything I’ve been doing for the last couple of
years has been so I could get this job. Why would I have gone to all that trouble if all I had to do was
fuck the information out of some big, ugly alien?”
“I didn’t mean it would be that simple, or quite that physical, but if you got close to someone and
gained their trust, it might mean they would turn a blind eye if they saw you skulking about or asking
questions. It was just an idea.”
“Hello.”
I looked up at a young woman with striking close-cropped black hair.
“Donna!” Heather stood up and gave the woman a hug. “Sit, I want you to meet April.” We shook
hands. “So, April, there’s something else I want to tell you. I’ve been reassigned. I’m being sent to the
Rockall to lead one of the remote groups.”
I punched the air with my fist. “Yessss! So we’ll still be working together?” Once I had
completed the job at the Palace, I would be heading out to the ship, the Rockall, too, becoming one of
the Human spacers who lived off Earth. At least for now. I had been looking forward to trying life on
the Resistance off-planet base.
“I don’t know, there are a number of groups based on the Rockall, but maybe.”
“And I’m guessing, Donna, that you’re taking over Heather’s post?”
She nodded. “Yes, I have big shoes to fill.”
Heather smiled. “You’ll be fine. The hardest person to manage is sat in front of us and she’s
coming with me, so your life will be a lot easier than mine.”
I playfully punched Heather.
“I was hoping I’d get to work with you,” Donna said to me, looking a little disappointed. “I
couldn’t believe it when Heather told me who we were meeting, your parents are legendary.” I was
used to this; my parents had been among the leaders of the Resistance until they had both been killed
in a bungled operation. My early life had been one of secrecy and constant relocation, but I had
always understood why that had been necessary. Despite the upheavals, my parents had done all they
could to make sure I’d had as normal a childhood as possible; I had played with the children of other
fighters, and we had camped and climbed. But they had also prepared me to continue the fight and,
over the years, had taught me all the skills I would need.
It wasn’t until I was an adult that I had realized how central to the whole movement they had been.
I didn’t like to make a big deal out of it, but I smiled in response to Donna’s wide-eyed expression.
“What about one of the sons?”
I looked at Heather. “What about the sons?” I asked. An image of Tamrai flashed into my mind,
but I pushed it out just as quickly.
“Do you think you could get close to one of them? They’re young, ambitious, home, and they’re
probably seeking distraction. You’ve already been vetted, so chances are they might lower their guard
with you. I’m not saying you should sleep with them, although you wouldn’t be the first. Maybe you
could get them drunk?”
I thought about both Tamrai and Estair. I knew Estair’s reputation as a mean bastard. Even his
own troops were afraid of him, he’d stop at nothing to get to the top. He’d have no compunction about
fucking me and probably using me for some twisted sexual fantasies that would leave me bruised and
battered, but I was going nowhere near him. Unless it was to creep up on him in the night and blow
his brains out.
Then there was Tamrai. There was no denying that he was easy on the eye and I remembered the
way he had greeted his younger brother; he had a heart somewhere behind those muscles. Maybe I
could get some helpful information out of him, or at least try, and then blow the lot of them away with
one well-placed explosive, followed by a long, hot shower.
But sex with a Naldarr? I couldn’t do it. We’d have to be in a pretty desperate situation for me to
make that sacrifice. Whatever happened, though, I needed to find some way to speed things up. I could
feel the adrenalin starting to course around my body, and my mind whirred.
I was jolted out of my thoughts as something crashed into me and I dropped my drink. I grabbed
the blade I carried at my ankle whenever I was out in the city and leaped to my feet, coming face to
face with one of the eyes of a Ril who was dancing in front of me, clearly a little the worse for wear.
Heather grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into the seat.
“For fuck’s sake, April, take it easy,” she said in a hurried whisper. “We came here because no
one would pay us any attention.”
“Sorry,” I muttered to the Ril, who joined his friend and the two staggered towards the door, too
drunk to pay me any attention. But the Ak behind the bar kept one of his eyes on me.
“I think it’s time we went,” said Heather as she gathered her things.
“Yeah, tell Elliot I’ll get the information as quickly as I can. Good to meet you, Donna.”
She shook my hand with the same enthusiasm and grin she’d had when she realized my family
connections.
“Great to meet you, April, I really, really hope we get to work together in the future.”
Personally, I hoped not; I didn’t think I could take much more of her fawning.
Chapte r

Eight
TAMRAI

H aving a long drink of the ek Mother handed me, I took a moment to savor the warmth as it
traveled down my throat and welcome the relaxation that settled in my bones. This was of a
much better quality than the stuff I drank with my troops at the end of the day to try to soften the effect
of the violence and death we had witnessed.
“It is a relief for me to see you unscathed, I do worry about you.”
“I know you do, Mother, but has that not always been the way? We are a military family, risk and
death go hand in hand with that.”
“They do, but you could have been promoted away from the frontline by now. You were offered
positions that would have seen you safe and I would worry less.”
I smiled at my mother. I knew that she understood the risks and was used to them; her father had
been a General, her sister a Colonel, but she had lost her two brothers in battle. At this precise
moment, she was not just a member of a military family that had had officers in its ranks for
generations, she was a mother who worried about her son.
“Your father wishes to see you rise to General, and soon.”
“Yes, but only because remaining where I am makes him look bad.”
I was grateful that my mother chose not to respond to that comment, and opted instead to top up my
glass. I didn’t want to argue with her. She knew her husband’s faults, but would also defend him and
everything he had done for the Naldarr.
I grabbed a handful of grecks; I enjoy the small crunchy bugs that we shipped to Earth, but rarely
have them when I am away. Mother looked like she was thinking, trying to find a good time to say
something in particular. I grinned at her.
“What? What is so amusing?”
“Go on, Mother. I know you have someone in mind you think would make the ideal bride for me.
It is usually about this far into my visits that you raise the subject and tell me all about the beauty you
have found.” I knew she meant well, but it really was something I wanted to get out of the way.
“You mock me.”
“Only a little.”
“Then I will not tell you.”
“Ah! So I am right. Is she the Duchess of Callean, or the Countess of Welmore perhaps?”
“Oh, stop it, Tamrai. I’m thinking of your future. At least I don’t talk of an arrangement.”
I brushed the greck dust off my fingers and reached across to give her hand a squeeze.
“Thank you. I do appreciate that, but I have plans for a future that excites me, that has purpose.”
“You want to remain on the frontline?”
 “To a large extent, yes. I am not interested in the twists and turns of politics, that is for Estair. I
would rather be with my soldiers, trying to make sure the decisions of those above us can be executed
safely. I can’t recall the last time Estair was fired upon, and I doubt he can either. The kind of
pronouncements he makes show he is an officer who has forgotten about the realities of war. I will
never become that.
“I also do not need a bride to show off or a large house to illustrate my position. The ships I
travel on are practical and serve a purpose. They are not lined with the finest fabrics and filled with
rooms for entertaining, they are for battle.”
“I hate the idea of you being lonely.”
At that, I laughed. “Mother, I am surrounded by hundreds, sometimes thousands of soldiers. I am
not lonely.”
“Not in that way, you know what I mean.”
“I do, but there are more important things for me to do. We are not all destined to link ourselves to
one other, and only that one. I am happy as I am.” As I said this, my thoughts flashed to the young
woman who had joined the household as Artai’s tutor. April, a pretty name. There was something
about her: a determination, a strength. She did not attempt to blend in with her surroundings as I
entered the room, she did not bow and scrape. She looked at me with the eyes of an equal, and those
eyes were searching. They were eyes that hid something.
I felt a warmth within. That must be the ek, nothing more. Shaking April’s image out of my head,
I focused on the beautiful, strong female before me. I hated to disappoint her, but I already had my
future laid out.

THE MURMUR of voices came through the door and we both turned as Estair entered, the sound of
another man’s footsteps receding into the distance.
“Here you are. I wondered if you wanted to join me in a jug of ek, but I see you have started
without me.” He grabbed the jug and poured himself a large glass. Mother stood and gave Estair’s
arm a gentle squeeze.
“I will leave you boys alone.” She kissed me on the cheek as she walked past. Estair took her seat
and lowered himself heavily into it; he looked tired.
“You have no idea of the stresses we are under here, brother. I would say that you are better off
away from Earth at the frontline, but you and I both know that is not where you really belong, so I will
not.”
“There are problems?”
“That’s a stupid question and you know it; there are always problems to be dealt with. Right now,
the damned Resistance are continuing to chip away. They destroyed two new cargo ships that had just
been built and signed off. It is a devastating loss. If my legacy is finding and annihilating the
Resistance, then I will die a happy Naldarr. I want each and every one of them destroyed.
“We have increased the budget for the Earth Security Division. We did have a member of the
Division who was able to infiltrate one of the cells based just outside of London, but he went rogue.”
I was surprised. That wasn’t something you heard of very often.
“He joined the Resistance? They accepted him?”
“Worse, he got himself entangled with one of the females. It was a close-run thing who wanted to
kill them both first, us or the Resistance, but we believe they ultimately accepted him, then their
relationship. We have got him now, but she shot herself.”
“Where is he now, the division member?”
“At our air-fleet base in Kent, but we are bringing him here. He’ll hand over all the information
he has or die. Well, he’ll die anyway. I will personally oversee some of the interrogation.” He
grinned over the top of his glass. “You know how much I enjoy that.”
Estair’s naturally dark eyes did a good job of making him appear even more sinister than his
brutal words had done, if that was possible. With a brother like this, I had never believed too strongly
in the importance of blood ties. It wasn’t easy, though, and I had a constant struggle. Loyalty is
important to me; my family are just that, my family, but increasingly I had found my beliefs diverging
from those of my father and brother, and it made that family loyalty hard to maintain.
“So, has Mother found your dream bride? She has been chattering on about the Countess of
Welmore. She will inherit a vast wealth, which is not something to be dismissed lightly. I’ve also
heard she’s a great fuck.”
I decided not to respond to that comment.
When we were younger, our looks were often commented on, but Estair had become hard. The
permanent creases across his forehead, the way his eyes seemed to drill into everyone, always
looking for weaknesses, the glee he took in others’ suffering; all these swamped any possible
goodness in him. It didn’t stop him getting females, though, but not the kind of female I could ever be
interested in. It also hadn’t stopped him getting a wife who was happy to hang off his arm at dinners.
“Or are you still insisting that you don’t need that kind of thing?” Estair’s voice broke into my
thoughts. “You can fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, but you need a wife. In a family as
high ranking as ours, there are expectations, and you are not meeting a great number of them.”
“I am doing exactly what is expected of me, I am protecting the assets of the Naldarr and ensuring
our place as the dominant race in the General Council. That is my role and I put my life at risk doing
so. There is nothing wrong with my work. At the end of the week, I will head to Zandar, quell the
skirmish there, and then continue on to my next mission. There is nothing in my track record that
would shame a family.”
“The majority of families, perhaps, but we are the Xaldai. We have a level of status that demands
certain things. I have encouraged Father to continue to offer you promotions, but he is becoming
concerned about your attitude and wonders what it is that is stopping you from pressing forward with
your career. I have also heard rumors that you have spoken out against certain planned maneuvers,
that you have concerns about the approach of the General Council. What are you trying to achieve,
Tamrai?”
I didn’t move, nor did I allow his words to visibly rattle me. Instead, I took a long, slow drink. It
felt like a tight steel cable had been twisted and twisted inside me; I had to control my anger.
“I would be careful what rumors you pay attention to, brother. Listening to the wrong ones can get
you in trouble.”
“I hope they are wrong. We have all sworn an allegiance that transcends family ties, and it would
pain me to have to report you to the Security Division, but comments like those that it is rumored you
have spoken would typically force the launch of an investigation.”
“Typically?”
“Yes, but on this occasion, I have told Father that they are foolish rumors from those who are
jealous of our family’s status. But my intervention will only last up to a point. The same goes for my
patience.”
Tired of my brother’s imperious attitude, I said nothing. All I wanted was to be back with my
troops.
“I’ll leave you to think on what I have said. Father is due back from a conclave with the General
Council and I know he will want to brief me.”
I stared at Estair’s departing back and scowled. I would need to plan an early departure; it had
taken even less time than usual for me to want to escape.
Chapte r

Nine
APRIL

T he house was quiet as I snuck downstairs. Sneaking was hard to do once I reached the main
floor with all its fancy rooms and wide corridors, though; I was an easy target. As far as I could tell,
everyone had gone to bed or was out of the house, but I couldn’t be entirely sure.
I needed to determine where the guards were stationed and plan the safest route to the map room.
The map room—it sounded old-fashioned, like a facility used by the kings and queens who had
originally inhabited this Palace to discuss expeditions or fancy tours overseas, but I already knew that
it was actually the central hub of much of the technology in the house. It was also where military
planning occurred. At the heart of the building and the Naldarr’s activities, the map room was where
Valrath planned most of his campaigns.
I had been briefed on its layout: all four walls were covered in large monitors and a central table
could be used to display hologram technology. I needed to access the core processor; there, I would
download as much recent data as possible. After that, the tech wing of the London-based division of
the Resistance would sift the data, retrieving useful information about the main Naldarr hubs around
the world, in particular the security systems in place. Those hubs would then form the targets of the
Resistance in each country.
Once I had received word that my colleagues had all the information they needed, I would return
to the map room and leave an explosive device on a timer. My aim was to take out key staff, so I
would time it for when I knew an important military meeting would be underway. Valrath was
fundamentally lazy and liked to have everyone come to him, so there should be a number of
opportunities to get all the significant military Naldarr officers in one explosion.
It had taken months of planning and my own role was deceptively simple.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs and a main corridor, I heard footsteps and threw myself into
the shadows of an alcove. I steadied my breathing. It was not impossible that I could find a good
reason for being out of my room this late at night, I wasn’t a prisoner, but I would have some
explaining to do and there was bound to be some suspicion. I had run through many excuses in my
head, but “I left some work in the study and wanted to get it so I could plan tomorrow’s lesson” was
what I would run with. “I’m so sorry, I keep getting lost. I’m afraid I have zero sense of direction; I
should probably have left a trail of breadcrumbs” would be my follow-up line.
Two Naldarr soldiers walked past in a synchronized march. Each carried a gun on their hip, a
rifle in their hands and a large blade strapped just above their ankle. They were huge and towered
above me. Their muscles carried the marks of their own clans, the white scars wrapping around
biceps that I would have struggled to circle with both my hands. There was a mean determination on
their faces.
I had chosen not to carry a weapon in case I was caught. That would have blown any excuse out
of the water, so staying out of sight was the name of the game. Once the soldiers had passed, I edged
along the wall slowly.
A door opened and I flung myself into the shadows again. Why the hell wasn’t everyone in bed?
Maybe this bloody race were night owls, or some kind of vampire. Either way, I could do with them
all staying put and leaving me to plan their destruction. These constant disturbances really were rather
rude of them.
I held my breath as Tamrai stepped into the corridor just ahead. He had changed into beautiful,
luxurious silk trousers and a sleeveless top in matching steel gray. The fabric flowed over the
muscles in his thighs, the bulk of his sculpted torso resembling that of a perfectly carved statue as the
silk hung off it. His had the physique of the gods; I didn’t need the distraction, but hell! He was
definitely distracting.
His long strides took him quickly past me and the view from the back was just as captivating. His
broad shoulders framed a perfectly formed back, his muscles occasionally showing as the fabric
moved across them. There was no hiding his incredible tight ass and I found my eyes glued to it as he
walked into the distance.
OK, maybe fucking information out of him might be a prospect worth considering.
I slammed my palm against my forehead. Focus, you idiot! You want to kill him, not fuck him.
After repeating that to myself a couple of times, I felt ready to keep going.

“HIS EXCUSE?”
I immediately recognized the voice of Valrath. It was a harsh, guttural sound. I also recognized the
equally cold voice that replied: Estair’s.
“He claimed his glass of Oneb was tampered with and the drug lowered his defenses.”
Valrath emitted a low growl.
“Idiot. I don’t care what his excuse is. Females and drink are always a dangerous combination.
Thanks to him, we have had to move the prisoner earlier than planned and divert the route. Where is
he now?”
“He will be here any minute. I knew you would want to see him.”
There was a brief period of silence before Valrath spoke again. “What of Janar? He is the most
useless Minister of Finance I have ever come across.”
“He has been quiet recently, Father, publicly, at least. I know that behind closed doors, he is still
displeased with your approach.”
“You know that if you wish to follow me onto the Council, then you will need to remove him. He
aims to limit the control of the Naldarr and will vote against any of my kin gaining senior positions.”
There was an evil-sounding laugh. Estair really didn’t have any redeeming qualities.
“I have removed others in my path, Father, this will be no different. I will join as your deputy as
soon as we have the position ratified, and then when the time comes, I will be the next to possess the
chain of office you currently wear, and my sons will follow me.”
“How does Tamrai feel about this? He has indicated a disquiet with regards to our approach; will
he vocalize his displeasure or can we be sure of his support?”
“If Tamrai has an issue with this, then perhaps he will need to be dealt with too, Father.”
Valrath grunted. “He is my son, I do not expect it to come to that.”
The sound of heavy footsteps caused me to duck further back down the corridor and into a
doorway. Dammit, there was a lot of action in this Palace. What was it going to take to make people
go to bed?
A Naldarr in a navy-blue uniform, the colors of a mid-level officer, was being escorted by two
soldiers. His face was set in a firm, emotionless mask, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings. He was
clearly terrified. One of the soldiers knocked on the door and they were called in by Estair.
I was now too far back to discern what was being said, but I could hear raised voices followed
by a cold silence. Then Valrath spoke in a steady, hard tone that sent shivers through me. It didn’t
matter that I couldn’t make out the words being spoken, the meaning was clear. His final words were
followed by a cry of pain and a loud thump as something hit the floor.
Silence lingered uncomfortably. Moments later, the two soldiers appeared at the door, dragging
the body of the now-dead officer. It seemed the Naldarr had no compunction about ridding themselves
of one of their own who had crossed a line. A clear, harsh reality hit me: if I was found sneaking
around, my excuses would be useless. It would be game over.
Chapte r

Ten
APRIL

H eather had contacted me the following day, but it was another two days until I could get out to
meet her.
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Heather looked a little sheepish as we walked along the
bank of the Thames. “But I’d only just told you we wanted you to get the information quicker than
planned, I didn’t want to load your plate with more.”
The thick brown water of the river moved slowly. Occasionally, a heavily armed Naldarr Earth
Security Division boat went past, soldiers on board with their rifles trained on the riverbank.
“I wanted you to have a couple of days to settle in, only it seems that they are moving Silran
sooner than planned. We’re going to have to rescue him once he’s at the Palace; we have no idea what
new route they’re taking, so we can’t set up an ambush.”
“If they’re bringing him to the Palace, he must be pretty important.”
“He is. They want to make a point: follow in his footsteps and you’ll face the personal wrath of
the Director General. They’ll make sure that his capture and the level of his punishment leak out in
order to put anyone else off. I should say his punishment and death, because he’s not going to make it
out alive if we don’t do something. And that’s where you come in.”
I took a deep breath. This news wasn’t a surprise. I’d known what Heather wanted when I’d
heard my holopad buzz and her face appeared before me.
“I guessed there was a sting in the tail—my tail. Tell me more about him.”
Heather looked tired. I knew she was overseeing a number of missions simultaneously, and at the
same time was preparing to leave Earth. I made a mental note to make sure I gave her little to worry
about over the coming weeks.
“Silran was a Naldarr officer who became a contact for us. He was incredibly useful and gave us
some essential information. During the course of his work for us, he began a relationship with one of
our own officers. You remember Rebecca? She did Force 4 blaster training with you last year. He
was planning to defect and they were both going to fly out to the Rockall; there was no way they could
remain on Earth for much longer. The consequences if the Naldarr found out were unthinkable.
“But we didn’t move fast enough, he was discovered to be a traitor and imprisoned. Rebecca was
cornered and shot herself. She must have been afraid that she wouldn’t be able to survive torture
without giving anything away, plus, she would have believed that Silran was certainly going to die.
So sad—she should have known we would do all we could to get him out of there, as we will.
“There are other Naldarr spies working for us, but so far the General Council have been unable to
identify who they are. But we might have to get more of them off Earth if this results in a thorough
crackdown, we can’t risk the same fate for them.”
 I had heard of Naldarr being persuaded to work for us, but I had never had contact with one of
them.
“How long has Silran been working for us?” I asked.
“Two years. He’s the reason we were able to destroy their munitions factory on the east coast.”
I remembered that: the glow of the fire could be seen for miles around.
“We’re going to have a shuttle waiting for him near Holland Park. We can cloak it so that it’s not
spotted, but we think it will only have a five-minute window to remain and wait for him, so it’s going
to be tight. There is a bigger problem, though.”
I could feel my heart sink. What now?
“Go on.”
“Under no circumstances can you be identified as the person who released him. You need to
remain at the Palace afterwards and execute your own mission. You must get him out to the shuttle,
and then return without anyone spotting you or realizing that you are involved.”
“What did you think I was going to do? March down to the cells in a bright pink tutu and sing the
National Anthem as I walked him out? I thought a key part of anything like that was not to get
spotted.”
She pulled a puckered face at me. “I just mean you’ve got to be able to stay beyond this task, so
the family must not have any doubts about you.”
“Grandmother is sucking eggs here.” I pulled a puckered face back at her. Heather laughed.
“OK, point taken. And if the wind changes direction, you’ll stay like that.”
I released the ridiculous expression.
“I’ll send an encrypted message over with details. We have word that he will be delivered to the
Palace tomorrow. We need him out of there within forty-eight hours. The Director General is away
for the first two days of his imprisonment at the Palace and nothing will happen during that time as
he’ll want to be personally involved. I’m sorry to put this extra pressure on you, April.”
That made me smile. “No, you’re not.”
She laughed at my comment. “No, not really. If there is anyone who can make this happen, it’s you,
but I definitely owe you a drink.”
“You owe me a long, hard night of drinking until I’m unconscious and wake up on the bathroom
floor.”
“I thought those days were behind you?”
“They were, then you added this to my plate.” I grinned. The reality was I liked the extra pressure.
I thrive when the odds are against me, when I have to fight through exhaustion, and a wrong move
could lead to capture and maybe death. I’m not quite sure what makes me get off on that so much, but
it seems to be what I was made for. And Heather knew it.
Another random document with
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forward they reached a little ground swell, behind which they
dropped like dead men, while skirmishers were sent forward to
silence the troublesome battery. The skirmishers crept forward till
they gained a little knoll, not more than seventy-five yards from the
battery. Of course the guns opened on them. They replied to some
purpose. In a few minutes the battery was driven off, the artillerists
killed, the horses shot down, and badly crippled every way. But the
affair cost the Union cause a brave man—Lieutenant-Colonel Garber,
who could not control his enthusiasm at the conduct of the
skirmishers, and in his excitement incautiously exposed himself. All
this time rebel regiments were pouring on to attack the audacious
brigade that was supporting the skirmishers, but fresh regiments
from Wallace’s division came up in time to defeat their purpose.
The battery was silenced. “Forward” was the division order.
Rushing across the cornfields under a heavy fire, they now met the
rebels face to face in the woods. The contest was quick and decisive.
Close, sharp, continuous musketry drove the rebels back.
Here unfortunately Sherman’s right gave way. Wallace’s flank was
exposed. He instantly formed Colonel Wood’s Seventy-sixth Ohio in
a new line of battle, in right angles with the real one, with orders to
protect the flank. The Eleventh Indiana was likewise contesting a
sharp engagement with the enemy, who made a desperate attempt to
flank it, and for a time the contest waxed furious. But Sherman soon
filled the place of his broken regiments. Wallace’s division came
forward, and again the enemy gave way.
By two o’clock the division was in the woods again, and for three-
quarters of a mile it advanced under a murderous storm of shot.
Then another contest, and another with the batteries, always met
with skirmishers and sharpshooting—then by four o’clock, two hours
later than on the right, a general rebel retreat—a sharp pursuit—from
which the triumphant Union soldiers were recalled to encamp on the
old ground of Sherman’s division, in the very tents from which those
regiments were driven that hapless Sunday morning.
With great thanksgiving and shouts of triumph the Union army
took possession of the camps. They had repulsed the enemy in one of
the most hardly contested battles of the war, under many
disadvantages, and with a heroism that fills a glorious page in the
history of nations. The enemy was near, yet retreating—his columns
broken and altogether defeated. His cavalry still hovered within half
a mile of the camps, but it was allowed to depart, and the battle of
Pittsburg Landing, written by more than a hundred thousand
bayonets, was at an end.
 AFTER THE BATTLE.
The sight of that battle field was horrible. The first approaches,
occupying the further range of the enemy’s guns, bore fearful witness
of the wild devastation made by the ball and shell which had over-
shot the mark. Large trees were entirely splintered off within ten feet
of the ground; heavy branches lay in every direction, and pieces of
exploded missiles were scattered over the forest sward. The carcasses
of horses and the wrecks of wagons strewed all the woods and
marked every step of the way.
Half a mile further on, and the most terrible results of the struggle
were brought to view. Lifeless bodies lay thickly in the woods; the
dead and dying lay close together in the fields, some in heaps on
their backs, some with clenched hands half raised in air—others with
their guns held in a fixed grip, as if in the act of loading when the
fatal shaft struck them dead. Others still had crawled away from
further danger, and, sheltering themselves behind old logs, had sunk
into an eternal sleep. Here were the bodies of men who had fallen the
day before, mingled with those from whose wounds the blood was yet
warmly trickling.
Around the open space known as “The battalion drill ground,” the
scene was still more appalling. This spot had been desperately
contested on both sides; but the dead on the rebel side were four to
one compared to the Union losses. It was horrible to see in what wild
attitudes they had fallen. Here a poor creature appeared in a sitting
posture, propped up by logs, on which the green moss had been
drenched with blood, and with his hands rigidly locked over his
knees, sat still as marble, with his ashen face drooping on his breast.
One poor wretch had crept away to the woods, and ensconcing
himself between two logs, spread his blanket above him as a shield
from the rain of the previous night. He was a wounded rebel, and
asked pitifully of those who searched among the dead if nothing
could be done for him.
In the track of the larger guns terrible havoc had been made, and
scenes of revolting mutilation presented themselves. The field of
battle extended over a distance of five miles in length, and three-
quarters of a mile in width. This space was fought over twice in
regular battle array, and many times in the charges and retreats of
the different divisions of the two armies. Every tree and sapling in
that whole space was pierced through and through with cannon-shot
and musketballs, and it is reported that there was scarcely a rod of
ground on the five miles which did not have a dead or wounded man
upon it.
On Sunday, especially, several portions of the ground were fought
over three and four times, and the two lines swayed backward and
forward like advancing and retreating waves. In repeated instances,
rebel and Union soldiers, protected by the trees, were within thirty
feet of each other. Many of the camps, as they were lost and retaken,
received showers of balls. At the close of the fight, General
McClernand’s tent contained twenty-seven bullet-holes, and his
Adjutant’s thirty-two. In the Adjutant’s tent, when the Union forces
recaptured it, the body of a rebel was found in a sitting position. He
had evidently stopped for a moment’s rest, when a ball struck and
killed him. A tree, not more than eighteen inches in diameter, which
was in front of General Lew. Wallace’s division, bore the marks of
more than ninety balls within ten feet of the ground.
 THE ARTILLERY AND REGIMENTS
ENGAGED.
A record of the dead, wounded and missing in that fearful battle,
bears sure evidence of the almost superhuman bravery with which it
was contested.
The Illinois men, already famous at Donelson, fought like tigers to
sustain their well-earned reputation. Missouri, Ohio, Indiana,
Wisconsin, and some of the Iowa regiments, won imperishable
laurels. The First and Second Kentucky were gloriously brave in the
fight. They, as well as the Sixth, were under fire more than five
hours, yet when the enemy turned their faces toward Mississippi,
they were ready and eager to follow. The Ohio Fifty-fourth, Zouave
regiment, were at their post in the thickest of the fight. Also the Fifty-
seventh, who remembered well that Ohio expected her buckeye sons
to do their duty.
Taylor’s and Waterhouse’s batteries were first in the fight. Two
regiments that should have supported the last broke and ran.
Waterhouse was wounded in the thigh by a minie ball. Taylor’s
battery continued to fight, supported splendidly by the Twenty-third
Illinois, until he and his support were outflanked on both sides.
Waterhouse, with his three guns, took up a second position,
supported by the second brigade of McClernand’s division, Colonel
Marsh commanding. During the forenoon they were compelled to
retire through their own encampment, with heavy loss, into the
woods. There a second line of battle was formed, when McClernand
ordered an advance. A hundred rods brought the solid columns
within sight of the rebels, and then followed one of the most fiercely
contested and sanguinary engagements of that desperate field. It
resulted in the repulse of the rebels, who were driven back through
the Union encampments. Then the enemy was reinforced, and
Colonel Marsh, finding his ammunition nearly expended, was
compelled to retreat before the overwhelming forces of the enemy.
On Monday a fine Michigan battery, captured by the enemy the
day before, was retaken by the Sixteenth Wisconsin, at the point of
the bayonet. The fight, after taking this battery, was conducted by
General Beauregard in person. In his efforts to recover it he was
wounded in the arm. He was successful in taking it, but it was again
wrested from him. This battery was retaken and recaptured no less
than six times.
Company A of the Chicago Light Artillery, so severely handled on
the first day, was only able to man three guns on Monday; but with
these, after a desperate contest, they succeeded in silencing and
capturing a rebel battery of six guns. They were, however, compelled
to abandon it from want of horses.
The report of General Lew. Wallace especially commended the
Nebraska First, the Twentieth, Fifty-eighth, Seventy-sixth and
Seventy-eighth Ohio, and the Twenty-third Indiana. The Indiana
Twenty-fifth literally covered itself with glory. The Indiana Sixth,
Ninth, Eleventh, Thirty-first, Thirty-second, Twenty-fourth, Forty-
third and Fifty-seventh all performed most honorable parts in the
terrible drama.
Of the United States regulars, there was a fine representation.
They were used at those points where the utmost steadiness was
demanded, and fought with consummate skill and determination.
The losses of the Illinois regiments in McClernand’s division were
very heavy, in officers and men. On Sunday, company A, of the
Forty-ninth Illinois, lost from one volley twenty-nine men, including
three officers; and on Monday morning the company appeared on
the ground commanded by a second sergeant. General McClernand’s
third brigade, which was led by Colonel Raith until he was mortally
wounded, changed commanders three times during the battle. On
Monday morning, one of General Hurlbut’s regiments (the Third
Iowa) was commanded by a first lieutenant.
General Grant is an illustration of the fortune through which some
men, in the thickest showers of bullets, always escape. He has
participated in skirmishes and fourteen pitched battles, and is
universally pronounced, by those who have seen him on the field,
daring even to rashness; but he has never received a scratch. At four
o’clock on Sunday evening, he was sitting upon his horse, just in the
rear of the Union line of batteries, when Carson, the scout, who had
reported to him a moment before, had fallen back, and was holding
his horse by the bridle, about seven feet behind him. A six-pound
shot, which flew very near General Grant, carried away Carson’s
head, passed just behind Lieutenant Graves, volunteer aid to General
Wilson, tearing away the cantle of his saddle and cutting his clothing,
but leaving him uninjured. It then took off the legs of a soldier in one
of General Nelson’s regiments, which was just ascending the bluff.
About the same hour, further up to the right, General Sherman,
who had been standing for a moment, while Major Hammond, his
chief of staff, was holding his bridle, remounted. By the prancing of
his horse, General Sherman’s reins were thrown over his neck, and
he was leaning forward in the saddle, with his head lowered, while
Major Hammond was bringing them back over his head, when a rifle
ball struck the line in Major Hammond’s hand, severing it within two
inches of his fingers, and passed through the top and back of General
Sherman’s hat. Had he been sitting upright it would have struck his
head. At another time a ball struck General Sherman on the
shoulder, but his metallic shoulder-strap warded it off. With a third
ball he was less fortunate, for it passed through his hand. General
Sherman had three horses shot under him, and ranks high among
the heroes of that nobly won battle.
General Hurlbut had a six-pound shot pass between his horse’s
head and his arm; a bullet hurtled through the animal’s mane, and
one of his horses was killed under him.
The statement has gone forth that General Prentiss was made
prisoner at the first early onslaught of the enemy, when his division
was driven in upon Sherman’s lines. But this is an error. Prentiss’
men fought well even in retiring. They retired to reform, and pursued
the conflict up to late in the afternoon, under Prentiss’ personal lead.
They maintained a stand on McClernand’s left and Hurlbut’s right.
In the thick underbrush where they made their last stand, almost
every shrub and bush was struck by bullets; no spot on the entire
field evidenced more desperate fighting. The last time General
Prentiss met General Hurlbut, he asked him: “Can you hold your
line?” General Hurlbut replied, “I think I can.” Not long after he sent
a messenger to General Prentiss, to inform him that he was forced
back, but the man was probably killed, as he never returned or
delivered the message. About the same time, McClernand was forced
back on his right, and Prentiss, without knowing that his supports on
each side were gone, held his line. The enemy, both on his right and
left, was half a mile in his rear before he discovered it, and his
capture was inevitable.
Of General Buell’s conduct in battle, one of his men wrote, “I wish
you could have seen the gallantry, the bravery, the dauntless daring,
the coolness of General Buell. He seemed to be omnipresent. If ever
man was qualified to command an army, it is he. He is a great, a very
great General, and has proved himself so; not only in organizing and
disciplining an army, but in handling it. He had his horse shot under
him.”
 LOSSES.
The official reports of losses are given in the following tabular
statement:

GRANT’S ARMY.

DIVISIONS. KILLED. WOUNDED. MISSING. TOTAL.

1—General 251 1,351 236 1,848
McClernand,
2—General W. H. L. 228 1,033 1,163 2,424
Wallace,
3—General Lew. 43 257 5 305
Wallace,
4—General Hurlbut, 313 1,449 223 1,985
5—General Sherman, 318 1,275 441 2,034
6—General Prentiss, 196 562 1,802 2,760

Total, 1,349 5,927 3,870 11,356

BUELL’S ARMY.

2—General McCook, 95 793 8 896

4—General Nelson, 90 591 58 739
5—General Crittenden, 80 410 27 517

Total, 265 1,794 93 2,152

Grand Total, 1,614 7,721 3,963 13,508

The official report of General Beauregard states the rebel loss to be

1,728 killed, 8,012 wounded, and 959 missing; which is far below the
estimated losses of the enemy given by the Federal officers, who
buried the dead on the field.
 Bravely was that battle contested on both sides. We have described
the way in which the Federal Generals fought and won a victory. But
the South was gallantly represented—so gallantly, that a victory over
such men was worth a double conquest over a meaner foe.
Beauregard seemed omnipresent along his lines throughout that
memorable day, striving by expostulation, entreaties, command,
exposure of his own person, to stem the tide of defeat; but it was in
vain. The steady flank advances of the Federal wings—the solidity of
their centre, rendered it necessary to “retreat,” if he would not be cut
off entirely. His baffled and somewhat dispirited brigades fell back
slowly upon the Corinth road, which, in all the fortunes of the two
days’ fight, had been carefully guarded from any approach of the
Unionists. The retreat was neither a panic nor a rout. Some
regiments threw away their arms, blankets, etc., from exhaustion;
great numbers of killed and wounded crowded the army wagons, and
much camp equipage was necessarily left behind.
The pursuit was kept up with but little energy. The nature of the
woods rendered cavalry movements extremely difficult, and though
three thousand splendidly mounted fellows had waited two days for
an order to ride into the fray, it came too late for much service. The
infantry pushed onward only a mile or two, for being unacquainted
with the topography of the country, General Buell considered it
dangerous to pursue his advantages any farther.
In giving a record of this contest, one thing is assured—the Union
victory was won by the heroic fortitude of men, many of whom never
before had been under fire; and the field is written all over with the
records of soldiers whose unfaltering heroism gave the name of
Pittsburg Landing to the hardest fought and noblest won battle of the
American continent.
 GENERAL SHERMAN’S RECONNOISSANCE
TOWARD CORINTH.

April 8, 1862.

The fatigue and suffering experienced by the victorious army at

Pittsburg were too severe for an immediate pursuit of Beauregard’s
forces on their retreat from the battle field on the 7th of April. On the
morning of the 8th, however, General W. T. Sherman was ordered by
General Grant to follow up the enemy, with a small force. With two
brigades of infantry, and Colonel Dickey’s Illinois cavalry, he
advanced on the Corinth road, to the forks, several miles beyond the
battle field. The abandoned camps of the enemy lined the road, in all
of which were found more or less of their wounded with hospital
flags thrown out for their protection. At that point, reconnoitering
parties were sent out on both roads, which reported the enemy’s
cavalry in force in either direction. A Federal brigade under General
Wood, which had been stationed in that vicinity, was ordered to
advance on the left hand road, while General Sherman led the third
brigade of his division up the right. About half a mile from the forks
was a clear field, through which the highway passed, and
immediately beyond it a space of two hundred yards of fallen timber;
beyond that an extensive camp of the enemy’s cavalry could be seen.
After a reconnoissance, the two advanced companies of the Ohio
Seventy-seventh, Colonel Hildebrand, were ordered to deploy as
skirmishers, and the regiment itself to move forward into line, with
intervals of one hundred yards. In this order they advanced
cautiously until the skirmishers were engaged.
Taking it for granted that this disposition would clear the camp,
Gen. Sherman held Colonel Dickey’s Fourth Illinois cavalry ready to
charge. The enemy’s cavalry came down boldly, breaking through the
line of skirmishers, when the regiment of infantry wavered, threw
away its guns and fled. The ground was admirably adapted to a
defence of infantry against cavalry, it being miry and covered with
fallen timber. As the regiment of infantry broke, Colonel Dickey’s
cavalry began to charge with their carbines, and fell into disorder.
General Sherman instantly sent orders to the rear for the brigade to
form in line of battle, which was promptly executed. The broken
infantry and cavalry rallied on this line, and as the enemy’s cavalry
came up to it, the Union cavalry in turn charged and drove them
from the field. General Sherman then advanced the entire brigade
upon the same ground, and sent Colonel Dickey’s cavalry a mile
further on the road. On the ground which had been occupied by the
Seventy-seventh Ohio, were fifteen dead and about twenty-five
wounded. Two hundred and eighty Confederate wounded and fifty of
the Federals were found in the camp from which the enemy were
driven.
General Halleck attributed the victory at Pittsburg greatly to the
bravery and skill of General Sherman, and recommended that he
should be promoted to a Major-Generalship, which rank was
conferred upon him by the President.
 OCCUPATION OF HUNTSVILLE, ALA.

April 10, 1862.

On the same day that General Buell left Nashville for Pittsburg, he
dispatched General Mitchell’s division on a hazardous expedition
through Tennessee, to Huntsville, Ala.
Leaving Murfreesborough, Tenn., on the 5th of April, they
marched to Shelbyville, twenty-six miles, in twelve hours, amid a
cold, drizzling rain. They experienced a warm welcome from the
inhabitants of that beautiful city. Here they were obliged to remain
two days, awaiting the arrival of their supply train; and on the 8th,
after a march of twenty-seven miles, they reached Fayetteville,
Lincoln Co., a town where the secession sentiment was almost
universal. Fifteen miles beyond they crossed the State line and
entered Alabama, continuing their course due south. A Northern
journal says:
“It stirs the blood with enthusiasm to read the exploits of General
Mitchell, in Alabama—so full are they of dash, enterprise and daring.
When the General was on his way to Bridgeport, he met a ‘native,’
whom he asked to show him a point where a certain stream could be
forded. The Alabamian declined to furnish the information. ‘Bind
him and march him to the head of the column,’ said the General.
Then every man of three thousand in the ranks was ordered to take a
rail from the adjacent fences, and these were thrown into the river,
extemporizing a bridge on which the troops crossed. At another
place, they came upon a stream three hundred feet wide, and twenty
feet deep. ‘Never mind,’ said the General, ‘I have a pontoon bridge;’
and he ordered his men to roll down the bales from a load of
abandoned cotton near by. Some of the officers laughed at the idea of
making a bridge of such materials, but he told them he had
calculated the buoyancy of cotton, and found it to be four hundred
and eighty-six pounds to a bale. The bridge was made, and the
calculation proved correct.

“On reaching a bridge near Sunrise, it was found to be on fire, with

a piece of rebel artillery stationed to command it. General Mitchell
entered the bridge and asked who would volunteer to save it. A
sergeant of the Thirty-third Ohio sprang after him. ‘You are my man!’
said the General. In a moment the bridge was thronged with
volunteers, and they saved it. At another place the General himself
was found in the mud with his coat off, working at a bridge on which
his command crossed a swamp.”
As the army advanced, an eager curiosity became manifest to know
the point of destination. On the way, the General met a man
travelling on foot. He asked him how far it was to Huntsville.
“Eleven miles.”
“Do they know we are coming?”
“No; they have not the least idea of it.”
Huntsville, then, was the desired haven. Ten miles from the place
the General called a halt, to wait for the artillery and infantry to come
up. No tents were pitched, but for miles away the impatient invaders
could be seen around their camp-fires. The General flung himself
down by an old log, overrun with moss, and on this novel bed
snatched two hours’ rest. Just as the moon was going down, the
bugle call was sounded. The soldiers sprang to their feet, and in a few
minutes they were ready to move.
The Simonson battery led the way, supported by Kennett’s and
Colonel Turchin’s brigade. The army passed a magnificent
plantation, with many negroes, owned by the rebel ex-Secretary
Walker. Four miles from Huntsville, the shrill whistle of a locomotive
was heard. In a few moments the train hove in sight, and was
stopped by the outbreak of Simonson’s brass guns. The train was
captured, together with one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners.
On to the town was the cry. Daylight was dawning, and the citizens
quietly sleeping as the foe entered the silent streets. The clattering
noise of the cavalry aroused them from their slumbers, and they
flocked to the doors and windows, exclaiming, with blanched cheeks
and sinking hearts, “They have come—the Yankees have come!”
Never in the history of any military movement was a surprise so
complete. Men rushed into the street half dressed, women fainted,
children screamed, the negroes laughed, and for a short time a scene
of perfect terror reigned. This state of affairs soon subsided, when
these startled people realized that the Union soldiers were disposed
to treat them kindly.
Colonel Gazley, of the Thirty-seventh Indiana, was appointed
Provost-Marshal, and his regiment occupied the city as Provost-
Guard.
At the extensive depot was found seventeen first-class locomotives,
and a great number of passenger and freight cars. At the foundry,
two or three cannon with several small arms. The General soon made
good use of the engines. Ere the close of the night, one hundred miles
of the Memphis and Charleston railroad was in his possession,
stretching in one direction as far as Stevenson, in the other as far as
Decatur, capturing at the latter place the entire camp equipage of a
regiment, which left very hastily on the approach of the Union
troops.
Making Huntsville his headquarters, where he remained for six
weeks, General Mitchell rendered essential service by intercepting
the enemy’s communications, and capturing or destroying his
supplies. He evinced marked ability, and met with uniform success in
fitting out many smaller expeditions through that region of country.
He extemporized a gunboat on the Tennessee, which aided him
materially when visiting the eastern side of the river.
 CAPTURE OF FORT PULASKI, GA.

April 11, 1862.

Fort Pulaski, the key to the city of Savannah, stands on Cockspur Island, at the
mouth of the Savannah river, about fourteen miles below the city. It was built by the
United States Government at a cost of nearly one million of dollars. It is of a
pentagonal form, and covers several acres of ground. The walls are forty feet high,
presenting two faces towards the sea, the ranges of fire radiating at opposite angles. It
was a position of immense strength, being constructed for a full armament, on the
lower tier, of sixty-five 32-pounders, and the upper tier for fifty-three 24-pounders,
four 18-pound flanking howitzers, one 13-inch mortar, twelve 8-inch columbiads, and
seven 10-inch mortars—altogether, one hundred and fifty guns. The interior of the
fort was well supplied with large furnaces for heating shot, quarters, barracks,
ammunition, etc.
Tybee Island, and the lighthouse, had been previously evacuated by the rebels. The
investment of Fort Pulaski was a work of great magnitude, and long and careful
preparations for its reduction were necessary. Batteries were erected at several points,
after severe labor on the part of the Federal forces, and at the end of the month of
March the final arrangements were drawing to completion.
Cockspur Island, on which Fort Pulaski stands, is low and marshy, and the nearest
solid land is Tybee Island, lying to the seaward, and within three-quarters of a mile
distant. Tybee Island stretches out from a point known as Goat Point, two or three
miles to the sea—the nearest point to the fort being that just named. General Q. A.
Gillmore took command at Tybee Island on February 20th, which had been
previously evacuated by the rebels, and here were built the heaviest breaching
batteries; but others were erected at intervals along the shore for a distance of nearly
two miles. The subjoined table gives their strength and armament:
 NO.
WEIGHT.
BATTERY. OF SIZE. KIND. RANGE. COMMANDER.
LBS.
GUNS.
Stanton 3 13 inch. Mortar. 17,120 3,476 Captain Skinner.
Grant 3 13 „ „ 17,120 3,256 „ Palmer.
Lyon 4 10 „ Columb’d 15,059 3,256 „ Pelouze.
Lincoln 3 8 „ „ 9,240 3,045 „ Pelouze.
Burnside 1 13 „ Mortar. 17,120 2,760 Sergeant Wilson.
Sherman 3 13 „ „ 17,120 2,677 Captain Francis.
Halleck 2 13 „ „ 17,120 2,407 „ Sanford.
2 10 „ Columb’d 15,059 1,777
Scott „ Mason.
1 8 „ „ 9,240
Part’s
5 30 lbs.
Sigel s.c’r „ Seldenkirk.
1 24 „ James
2 42 „ „
McClellan „ Rogers.
3 32 „ „
Totten 4 10 inch. Mortar. 1,852 1,643 „ Rodman.

These works were erected wholly at night, as they were all within range of Fort
Pulaski. Their faces were bomb-proof, while in the rear of those most exposed lay a
long wide swamp, into which it was supposed that a great portion of the shot and
shells from Fort Pulaski would fall. The supposition proved correct. The magazines
were bomb-proof, and trenches connected the batteries on Goat’s Point; besides this,
splinter-proofs were provided for the reliefs, so that every protection possible was
secured to the men. The result proved with how great success these preparations were
made; during the bombardment of thirty hours the gunners lost but one man killed or
wounded. The work occupied six weeks, and was chiefly performed by the Seventh
Connecticut, Colonel Terry, the Forty-fifth New York, Colonel Ross, and a detachment
of Volunteer Engineers, under Lieutenant-Colonel Hall. When the guns were nearly
all in position, a battalion of the Third Rhode Island Volunteer Artillery was sent to
Tybee to assist in manning the guns, and later the Eighth Maine regiment, Colonel
Rust.
The mounting of ordnance was executed under the direction of Lieutenant Porter,
of the U. S. army; he also assumed the entire charge of all duties connected with the
ordnance department on the island, supervised the landing of ammunition and
implements, and directed the transportation of all the guns. This was a task of infinite
labor. The transportation of heavy guns, always difficult, was here rendered peculiarly
so. They had to be landed through a bad surf on an open beach, and thence dragged
by the soldiers for nearly two miles through a yielding sand. The works were placed so
as to be hidden from the enemy until they opened fire. Battery Totten was nearly
1,700 yards from the fort; Batteries Sigel and McClellan 1,620; Battery Scott nearly
1,677; Battery Halleck 2,400; Battery Burnside and others were all more than 3,000;
Battery Grant 3,500 yards away. Breaching casemated forts at this distance had never
been supposed practicable in modern warfare; indeed, 800 yards is the greatest
distance at which it was ever attempted.
 On the 9th of April the batteries were completed, the guns placed, and the
magazines filled. General Viele had constructed a co-operating battery on the
southern extremity of Long Island, in the Savannah, and not more than two miles, if
so far, from the fort. The purpose of this was to obtain a reverse fire during the
bombardment, which otherwise would proceed entirely from Tybee Island. This
battery was not completed in time to engage in the first day’s action, but opened fire
on the second.
A day or two before the bombardment actually commenced, General Hunter (who
had superseded General Sherman in command of the land forces at Hilton Head) and
his aids, and General Benham with his staff, came down on steamers from Hilton
Head to be present during the engagement, though the command was left with
General Gillmore.
On the 9th of April General Gillmore issued orders when the bombardment should
be opened, and the part which each of the batteries should take in the work. General
Hunter sent a letter to Colonel Charles H. Olmstead, First Regiment Georgia
Volunteers, demanding an unconditional surrender of the fort to the United States;
and representing the loss of life which would occur if resistance were made to the
numerous batteries with which he was surrounded. Colonel Olmstead replied briefly,
saying in language worthy of a more sacred cause, “I am here to defend the fort, not to
surrender it.” When Lieutenant J. H. Wilson returned with this reply, orders were
given to open fire from the batteries, and at half-past seven A. M., the first shot was
fired from Battery Halleck. The other batteries followed, and Fort Pulaski promptly
responded.
The guns for some time not obtaining the proper range, were ineffective. The
Federal gunners after a little time learned to distinguish the various shot fired by the
enemy, and the range they had. When a gun was fired, and the shot was seen
approaching, the cry of “casemate” or “barbette” was given, and they sheltered
themselves accordingly. Still later in the engagement they distinguished the shot by
the cry “barbette” and “rifle,” and when the latter was fired they protected themselves
under cover, as far as possible. The same skill was attained by the rebels in the fort.
The bombardment had continued several hours, when two mortar batteries along
the shore outside of the fort, on Goat’s Point, opened, and to them the enemy directed
his hottest fire.
About one o’clock the halyards attached to the flagstaff were shot away, and the flag
came down, but was immediately raised in a less conspicuous place. During the
afternoon an embrasure in the pancoupe, on the south-east angle of the fort, was
struck repeatedly, and pieces of the brick work gave way. This angle was the nearest
point to the batteries, and in a direct line with the magazine of Fort Pulaski—a fact
well known to the Federals from plans of the work in their possession. Afterwards all
efforts to effect a breach were directed to this spot. Several of the most important
guns, however, were out of order; the mortar shells were observed to fall mostly wide
of the mark; and no great result could be noticed even when one fell within the fort.
Numerous marks, however, all along both faces of the work which were exposed, told
the force and accuracy of the firing. By nightfall, the breach was so far effected that it
was evident it could eventually be converted into a practicable one. The
bombardment was discontinued at dark, three mortar batteries firing one shell each
at intervals of five minutes all night long, worrying the enemy, and preventing any
attempt to stop the breach, but without any idea of doing material harm. Several of
his guns had evidently been dismounted, and others silenced, during the day. The
breach had been commenced, but on the whole the result did not seem especially
encouraging. The men and officers were very thoroughly tired with the severe work
they had undergone, and the still more fatiguing excitement; few had found time to
eat or drink. Many, however, had night duties to perform. Strong infantry pickets
were placed, and still stronger supports, in expectation an attempt would be made to
relieve the garrison.
Shortly after daybreak all the batteries were opened again. The reply was more
vigorous than on the day before. On the Federal side every gun was in readiness, and
did good service. The great columbiads under Captain Pelouze were especially
effective; they certainly shook the walls of old Pulaski, and damaged them to a
considerable extent. All along the line the firing was more rapid and more accurate,
five shots striking the walls within as many seconds. Rebel officers said that, on an
average, one out of three shots that were fired took effect, and that during all of the
second day one shot or shell every minute was the average they received. Early in the
morning Captain Seldenkirk, of Battery Sigel, was relieved, and Captain C. P. R.
Rodgers, of the frigate Wabash, with a portion of her crew, worked several of the guns
of this battery during the remainder of the fight. At the same time Captain Turner,
Chief of Commissary on General Hunter’s staff, and Lieutenant Wilson, undertook to
drill a detachment of the Eighth Maine Volunteers (Colonel Rust). These men went to
work, were drilled under fire, and in ten minutes were able to serve their guns with
more than tolerable accuracy, and did some of the most effective service rendered
that day. This same regiment lay not more than half a mile in the rear of Battery
Halleck, for more than half of the entire engagement, covered only by some
brushwood, but perfectly content with their exposed position.
Early on the second day, especial attention was directed to the breach. Every gun
that could be brought to bear upon the pancoupe was trained that way, and directly
the aperture began to show the effects. In an hour it became large enough for two
men to enter abreast, and the nearest embrasure on its left was also considerably
enlarged. Meanwhile, all the other effects of the day before were enhanced; shots
struck all over the two exposed faces of the fort; the mortar batteries on the shore of
Cockspur Island were silenced, and several of the casemate guns were struck through
the embrasures. The battery put up by General Viele, on Long Island, opened fire that
morning, and received repeated replies, rendering good service by the destruction it
occasioned. The gunboat Norwich, laying on the right of the fort, also became
engaged—the distance, however, was too great for her to render any special
assistance,—still she got an occasional answer from the garrison. On this day clouds
of red dust were seen to rise more frequently from the fort, indicating that the
brickwork of which it is constructed was breaking up, and after a while, the great
breach became so large that the propriety of a storming party was discussed. The
lower part of the aperture was partly filled by the debris that fell from above; the arch
of the casemate was laid bare, while evidently shaken, a gun in barbette, immediately
over the breach, was tottering and ready to tumble below. The breach by its side was
also momentarily becoming wider, and just as General Benham was questioning
whether a messenger should not be sent to demand a surrender, before risking so
great a loss of human life as must be incurred in an assault, the rebel flag on old
Pulaski was lowered half way, and a final shot fired from a casemate in the fort. As the