Prologue
The Intergalactic Confederation has been traveling the universe for decades.
Its primary mission: to peacefully explore new worlds, to document and map the countless forms of life scattered across the cosmos.
When a celestial body shows potential to sustain life, the Confederation puts its most advanced knowledge to work—terraforming—a complex series of operations designed to transform a sterile environment into a habitable world.
Its fleet, made up of ships of every size, brings together crews from a wide range of worlds, most notably from Polares—the founding planet—and from Earth. In theory, they all work toward the same goal: to preserve and expand knowledge, always with respect for life and its diversity.
In theory.
Because where knowledge grows, ambition and corruption often follow. Some civilizations seek to dominate rather than coexist, to exploit rather than protect.
To counter these threats, an elite unit was formed: the Galactic Sentinels.
Their mission is threefold.
As explorers, they carry forward the Confederation’s original purpose.
As engineers, they contribute to vast terraforming projects.
And as shadows, they are spies—capable of infiltrating criminal networks, tracking traffickers, and dismantling their empires, often at the risk of their own lives.
Part One
Chapter 1.
Pherebos, 5126 of Polaris year
I take my feet off the table and grab the bottle of baijiu, a spirit that must've been smuggled into Farid's hands. I get the cork off and pour him a big glass.
“Cheers, my friend! Long live the Su... Sup… Supre... Supreme Coalition!” I stammer while skillfully pouring myself a tiny amount of the precious coppery liquid, making sure my companion can't see exactly how much I'm serving myself.
For nearly two hours now, I've been toasting with Farid, a portly human, to the health of the consortium of renegades, smugglers, and other merry band of individuals that make up the Supreme Coalition. This Coalition's goals are the exact opposite of those of the Intergalactic Confederation.
I raise my glass and give Farid a deliberately blurry look before downing its contents in one decisive gulp. Following my lead, he empties his glass with conviction and lets out a deep sigh of satisfaction.
Unlike mine, I think his state of drunkenness isn't feigned. While we started with low-alcohol fermented drinks, we switched to baijiu about half an hour ago,and my companion's relaxation becomes more evident with each additional toast.
In the eyes of Farid and the Coalition, I'm just a lone smuggler scraping by with occasional deals with them. And that's perfectly fine with me.
Having arrived two days ago on CS-8, the Coalition's eighth space base, I'm fully immersed in my current mission, taking all the time I need for the task at hand. I don't want to risk jeopardizing the operation, and above all, I want to make sure I don't blow my cover. That's why I've been lounging in Farid's ship's lounge for nearly two hours.
“I've gotta pee!” he says, his voice waning.
Finally! I thought we'd never make it and that the man's bladder was bottomless!
“You're right!” I say, looking at him like he just hit the jackpot, as if that's the first idea that popped into my head.
I watch him stagger towards the cabin's rear hatch, where the living area of his spationef is located.
As soon as he's gone, I jump to my feet and start a quick countdown in my head. I have less than two minutes to get this done.
I hurried to the command console, a few meters from the living room where we'd spent the evening. I've studied the plans and know where to look.
I find the unlocking surface to access the backup disks. I run my index finger, coated with an undetectable acrylic since my arrival and a carbon copyof Farid's index fingerprint, recovered two days earlier, over the sensor.
The compartment opens up without making a sound, and inside I find a set of discs small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. I identify the one I want as black, the official color of the Coalition. I grab the copy I've prepared for the occasion, do the exchange, and quickly close the compartment.
