Star Force #81-100
Author: Aer-Ki Jyr
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00
Description: Anthology containing: Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (81-84) Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (85-88) Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (89-92) Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (93-96) Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (97-100)
Publisher: Archon Lore
Rights: Copyrights as per source stories

Perseverance

1

May 19, 3101

Shangri-La System (Cygnus Arm)

Inner Zone

Count Jeyron stood on the bridge of the Mammoth-class cargo ship that he’d spent the last 2 years and four months on, for the most part, as this supply convoy of 284 jumpships made its way up the tether from the ADZ. They’d stopped off at a few ports along the way…Lothlorien, Mandalore, Dakara…but most of the breadcrumbs of systems leading out from the ADZ and into the Perseus galactic Arm they’d skipped over, either flying through them or bypassing those star systems entirely.

They weren’t all arrayed on a straight line, meant rather to be quiet outposts that most people wouldn’t notice. They weren’t a secret to the locals, but there was no map in the ADZ that had them included, save for the ones the Archons and the Monarchs had, and up until he’d been assigned this mission by Davis he hadn’t even known about the Tether’s existence. He’d been a Baron for some 83 years without hearing so much as a whiff of a rumor, which he attributed to the Director’s ability to keep secrets…and this one was a doozy.

Star Force had quietly stretched a string of oases across the local Orion arm and into The Nexus’s domain, then hopscotched across it with even greater distances between Tether outposts. They’d actually established a link across the entire Nexus, through the Perseus Arm, and out into the very big Cygnus Arm that made up the fat edge of the galaxy.

Cygnus was more than twice the width of the Orion Arm and even bigger than Perseus. It stretched out through thick star clusters and technically even contained the much thinner dispersion of stars that bled off into the galactic void. There was no fixed edge to the galaxy, and those border systems were technically still part of it, though their relative location to each other would make travel impossible unless you had very strong and accurate gravity drives.

Star Force hadn’t made it out there, not even close yet, but the fact that they had not only left the Orion Arm but were all the way out in Cygnus had astonished Jeyron when he’d been let in on the secret, along with the destination system that they’d recently colonized that he was going to be tasked with grooming and growing even further.

Then the bombshell of the V’kit’no’sat had been dropped on him and suddenly Star Force’s history and actions up until this point had crystalized into understanding and trepidation. If the dinosaurs ever came back they’d wipe Star Force out, not quickly, but assuredly. Meaning that unless they wanted to die when that happened they’d need someplace to retreat to that was off the V’kit’no’sat maps.

The system that the Count was looking at now was one of those systems. The primary, as it was now. It wasn’t part of the Tether so much as it was the first of the new territory that Star Force had built the Tether to connect the ADZ with. The goal had always been to reach Cygnus, and now that they had they’d been doing more reconnaissance and scouting missions than they’d done before establishing that line of breadcrumbs across the galaxy. They’d essentially mapped a corridor out here, now they were doing a much more thorough survey of this region.

Which was still a drop in the bucket compared to how much raw territory there was. The Nexus had no public maps with information this far out, and Star Force hadn’t made contact with any of the local races so they were essentially flying blind as they sent out hundreds of scouting missions to add to their map while looking for a place to put down their first permanent colony.

Not that the breadcrumbs weren’t permanent, but they were never intended to be built up as large or as fast as the primaries. If Star Force lost its industrial muscle on Earth and the ADZ entirely, it was going to need something to fall back on for ship production. And small yards weren’t going to cut it.

Luckily Star Force had quickly stumbled onto a region that was virtually uninhabited. For all they knew it bordered a major power that they’d end up being enemies with, but right now it was essentially a dead zone full of systems but no races that could leave their own worlds. Nearly all of the systems were uninhabited and they were continuing their mapping missions to expand the perimeter of that area…in which Shangri-La had been found.

That was the name given to it upon discovery, and even while the mapping expeditions hadn’t progressed as far out as he and even the Director would have liked yet, they knew they could not pass on this system. They’d colonized it like the Tether systems immediately, then had been sending additional support to further build it up to a manageable starting point. An Archon had been in charge thus far, but now there were enough pieces in play to warrant a Monarch be sent to put down the firm roots that the Director wanted, and Jeyron had been his choice.

With the promotion to Count he’d been sent out here along with another supply convoy, taking the long road that bypassed The Nexus’s transport grid. They’d used traditional grav jumps between stars and a handful of black holes, following the trail blazed by others until they’d arrived at this destination point moments ago with the map being updated with current sensor readings and transmissions from the limited infrastructure already in place.

That gave them laggy connection to the battlemap, but it instantly filled up with new facilities built in both orbit and on the ground of the single planet that had been colonized…out of 306 total, not counting moons. Of those 306 planets situated around a giant white star, 57 of them were habitable and 16 marginal. The rest were airless but none the less had good amounts of gravity, including a few that topped 2g. That meant there was a wealth of raw materials buried in them, not to mention the fact that Star Force didn’t need atmospheres to colonize planets.

This one system was the equivalent of dozens, if not hundreds of others back in the ADZ, all confined into orbits around a single star. This was where Star Force had to put down roots, and it wouldn’t need to look beyond this location for some time, for there was plenty of worlds right here to build up to a level that even Sol or Epsilon Eridani couldn’t begin to reach.

But that was far down the road. This system had potential…and that was about it right now. The colony had a population of 394,000 prior to this convoy arriving, which would add another 126,000. Not the smallest starting point in Star Force history, but without even a million people to work with this was considerably smaller than Jeyron’s last assignment.

Though his mandate here was far bigger than anything back in the ADZ and he had to make it work, for literally everyone’s lives could be riding on it someday in the future. Shangri-La was to be the invisible backup to the ADZ, and right now it could barely throw spitwads militarily. He was going to have to change that, and do it almost entirely with local resources. More convoys would be coming regularly, but with the massive distance involved both he and Davis knew this had to be an independent operation. The convoys were just a shot in the arm to get the process started. After that Jeyron would be the lone Monarch out here, with orders to build an empire within a single star system…the most important star system on the Star Force maps.

He’d asked the Director why a Duke wasn’t assigned, and he said that if Jeyron was able to pull this off he would have gained the experience and skills necessary to warrant that title. So he had assigned a Duke to this, in the sense that this is what it took to become one aside from going through the Clans, but he also pointed out the fact that managing such a small colony at this point would be a waste of a Duke’s skills. They were needed on much larger fronts organizing existing infrastructure and populations, not building new ones from scratch.

And right now, seeing the updates flowing in via the battlemap transmissions, he heartily agreed. For there was nothing here worth mentioning.

A single city had been established on planet A, which hadn’t even been assigned a name yet. The city itself was more than just a startup and had been here a while, so he was glad he didn’t have to start entirely from scratch, but there were only a few auxiliaries on this planet and a few other locations around the system. Mining sites and such, without even the smallest of shipyards having been built yet.

That was like a gut punch to a Monarch, for without a shipyard you might as well have been back in the Stone Age. He’d hoped the Archon in charge would have built, or at least started to build one by the time Jeyron got here, but no such site was being listed on the battlemap…though there was a large new section of the city on planet A that hadn’t been there before.

Jeyron used a console to zoom in on that area as the ship continued to soak up more battlemap signals across the system-wide lag…which would be even worse considering the size of that star’s gravity well. Planets orbited at distances that would have put them outside other star systems, giving this one a very large volume of space to move around within. Fortunately the battlemap signals were constantly transmitting, though he wouldn’t be able to retrieve specific information without querying for it and that would require an out and back from the comms systems.

But right now he had position and status data on every facility and ship, noting a decent grouping of military vessels in orbit of the planet. 6 Warship-class jumpships full of drones were already here, with another two having arrived in this convoy. They would have absolutely nothing to do in this deserted region of the Cygnus arm, if the scouting reports held true, but there was no way Davis was going to let this system be established without immediate defenses.

The Archons he was bringing with him told him that it wasn’t a big deal so long as they had a sanctum to train in. Boredom didn’t exist for them, and a lack of missions and fighting just meant more time to increase their skills. That was a very positive spin on it, and in their case he actually believed them, based on his somewhat limited knowledge of Archon customs and culture, but the fact was this was out in the middle of nowhere so far away from home that they were essentially lost in space save for a few convoys coming now and then.

But that’s why a Monarch had been assigned. Operating independently was what they were good at. And if he really was going to someday warrant the Duke’s title he was going to have to prove it here first…and by the time he did this system would no longer be nowhere. It’d be somewhere, the somewhere in Cygnus, from which everything else in this doomsday territorial expansion would flow.

The cargo ship he was riding on sat in stellar orbit and waited for the rest of the convoy to arrive before they transitioned over to planet A…which would be getting a new name as soon as Jeyron got around to it. He wanted something special, so he was going to wait and give it some thought. He should have been doing that on the trip out but he’d expected someone to have assigned one by now and he hadn’t planned on undoing whatever moniker it had already gotten.

But it seemed that this system was an entirely blank slate for him to get around to naming. One of the few perks that was usually reserved for mapping expeditions or Archons, and he had a whole list of planets here that he got to label as he liked.

Putting that on his eventual to-do list, Jeyron stayed on the bridge and got a better view of planet A when they microjumped into orbit. He’d seen records of it previously, but watching it here in realtime was an entirely different experience. This was live, not some data file, and if he didn’t do his job everyone out here could be put into jeopardy. Not because he was indispensable, obviously. This colony had gotten along fine without him to this point, but taking it forward was his responsibility and there was no way of knowing when someone out here might come sniffing around and find them.

And if they were a superpower like The Nexus, well, Jeyron would have little to defend this system with…and the number of planets alone would be reason enough for someone to take it from them if they found it.

Calling for help would be pointless, for they’d be dead before a message could make its way back to the ADZ. No, the defense of this system would lay, for the moment, in the Archons and warships sent here to watch over it, but in the long run it would come down to what defenses and ships that Jeyron could build from local resources. Archons would come from the Earth and always would, but commandos, naval officers, pilots, techs, etc could be ‘grown’ locally out of the population. Maturias would be established and freedom of movement would be retained via the sporadic convoys, so no one would be stuck here if they truly wanted to leave…but by the same note volunteers would still be coming in to supplement this system’s population.

Fast forward centuries and you’d have a large enough population that you’d see people staying here rather than leaving, meaning that this little piece of the Star Force empire was going to be almost entirely self-contained, and it was up to Jeyron to design, build, and manage it. That was a monstrous task and one that he was kind of glad was going to take a while, because he was going to have to learn as he went, as all Monarchs did, though the Director had given him some notes for him to make use of going forward. Notes from Davis himself that he’d compiled over the years that Jeyron had virtually memorized on the trip out here.

“Count, there’s an incoming message for you,” Captain Jihadia said, startling Jeyron out of his daze.

“Go ahead and put it on the main display. It can’t be my mistress all the way out here,” he said with a sarcastic wink.

Jihadia snorted a quick laugh, then the holographic image of an Archon striker appeared out of armor, but with the telltale identification stripe on his uniform that Jeyron could just barely make out.

“Welcome to Shangri-La, Count Jeyron,” the man said with a polite bow.

“Klevin, I presume?”

“I am. I’ve gotten this system up and running, but it needs a Monarch’s touch and I’m glad you’re finally here.”

“Situation report?”

“Still empty space around us. Scouting teams have found a few more native civilizations, all pre-grav drive tech. If there are any significant powers out here they’re not right on our doorstep.”

Jeyron visibly sighed. “That’s a relief.”

“Quite so.”

The Count winced, trying to find a non-accusing way of asking this. “I didn’t notice any shipyard construction yet?”

“Priorities,” the Archon said apologetically. “Getting the base industry established was more important, thus I had resources focused on giving you as many building blocks as possible. We’ve got enough ships at the moment, so a full shipyard was unnecessary.”

“Support craft?”

“Dropships are being built in a surface shop within the city.”

“Ah,” Jeyron said with some pleasure. So they hadn’t built a proper shipyard, but they did have a tiny one for the smaller craft up and running. That was most welcome news. “I had hoped for as much. I trust I can leave the security of the system in your hands while I get to work?”

“Always. We’ll watch your back while you build.”

“If so much as a piece of debris floats within 10 lightyears of this system I want to know immediately, I just don’t want to make a habit of checking surveillance reports myself.”

“I’ll make you aware of anything that pops up, but thus far it’s pretty dead out here.”

“I hope for our sake it stays that way. I can’t turn this place into Epsilon Eridani overnight.”

“I’ll give you a week.”

“Gracious of you,” the Count replied with equal sarcasm. “Though I suppose I should also inform you now that a detachment from Clan Sangheili is within the convoy. They have orders to establish a separate presence here, a pure startup of their own. I don’t know where that leaves your chain of command.”

“Sangheili? Interesting, but not a problem. I’d been told you were in full command?”

“I am, but you know how the Clans like to do their own thing.”

“And Sangheili likes to be the first to jump the gun whenever possible,” the Archon said with some chagrin.

“And you are what Clan?”

“Clan Joanna. The rest of the Archons here are a mix with no official Clan function on this mission. May I ask who made the addition?”

“The Director added it at the last minute before we left.”

“Well then, no arguing that. He must have something good in mind.”

“He always does. They have a padawan with them. Will she take lead or will you retain it? I can work either way, I just didn’t want to make assumptions.”

“A padawan? No mage?”

“No, but she’s already completed her apprenticeship.”

“Baby mage then,” Klevin mewed. “If her duties are Clan specific then I’ll maintain operational command. If not we’ll figure it out. We don’t actually bicker about that sort of thing.”

“Arm wrestle?”

“No,” the Archon said, shaking his head slowly. “I’m glad there’s someone here now that’s stronger than me. It’ll give me a challenging sparring partner.”

“If anyone other than an Archon said that I’d assume it was innuendo, but with you guys I know better.”

The Archon smiled. “Sorry, Count. We won’t be helping you boost the population numbers…though others are doing an admirable job of it right now.”

“A population surge request?”

“No, I gave none. They’ve volunteered themselves to it.”

Jeyron cringed. “It’s that boring out here, isn’t it?”

“I can’t speak to that. My work is essentially the same everywhere I go.”

“Diminished workforce?” Jeyron asked, knowing that if a lot of the female population were pregnant they’d be incapacitated for at least a short period of time.

“Yes, but nothing too worrisome. Filling out the maturias sooner rather than later seemed more prudent, so I didn’t interfere. Most of the women are being responsible about it and taking breaks in between pregnancies, so we’re not losing whole chunks of population. They’re coordinating an alteration pattern on their own.”

“Wise of them.”

“They’re Star Force. Should you expect less?”

“Perhaps not, but I’m also used to dealing with raw civilians who are less…insightful in their mating habits.”

“We don’t have any raw civilians out here…save for the younglings.”

“How far along is the first maturia?”

“They’re 8 years old.”

The Count nodded. “A good start then.”

“I assume I can officially relinquish master builder activities?”

Jeyron smiled. “I officially relieve you, Archon. You can get back to full training now.”

Klevin bowed gratefully. “Much appreciated. I’ll meet you at the spaceport when you land and give you a proper tour.”

“Looking forward to it,” the Count said as the transmission cut off…then he noticed the Captain giving him an odd look. “What?”

“Mating habits?”

“Sounds more professional than fucking.”

“Sounds like something you shouldn’t need to worry about.”

The Count shrugged. “Population statistics are something we have to keep our eye on.”

“Is that what your interest in me has been then?”

“Unless your trim figure is somehow hiding it, I don’t think you’ve chosen to go that route, so the answer is no. This trip has been unbelievably boring and you’re the one thing that has made it bearable, so thank you for that, Captain. I don’t know how you crewers handle these doldrums on a regular basis.”

“Some of us prefer solitudes, and the Archons don’t seem to have your boredom problem.”

“Training is useful, but for a Monarch we need to be active in a practical way.”

“So ‘mating’ with me was just to keep you busy?” she asked with a rueful smile.

“Busy no. Break up the boredom occasionally…yes.”

“How flattering,” she said, neither offended or amused. “It seems you’ll have a lot more prospects to keep your attention down in the colony.”

“Afraid not. I’m going to be too busy doing real work. I only let myself relax when I have nothing else to do.”

“So now I’m ‘relaxation?’ A promotion of sorts, I’d imagine.”

“And I was?” the Count asked, curious.

“A feather in the cap,” she said honestly. “Never bagged a Monarch before,” she said with a devious smile.

Jeyron made a ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’ sound as he slowly shook his head, looking at her petite and trim figure as she sat in her Captain’s chair. “Oh the perks this job would have if only I were corrupt.”

“Which is why Monarchs are virtually impossible to nail. You’re quite the score for me.”

“If that’s what alleviates your boredom,” he said as he stood up and made ready to leave the bridge and the ship. “Have a dropship readied. I’ll be taking my leave of you and your ship now. Make sure to keep that feather properly fluffed and cockily displayed.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” she said honestly.

“Likewise, Captain. Likewise,” the Count said, leaving the bridge to gather his belongings and head down to his new planet that the cargo fleet would be departing as soon as it had unloaded.

Another bridge crewer threw the Captain a glance after the Count had left. “He doesn’t know about the scoreboard?” she asked.

Jihadia shook her head. “No. I took it down before I plucked that feather. It’s going back up as soon as he’s gone.”

The crew member smiled. “A Monarch, huh? Didn’t think any of us would actually get one of those. They’re as hard as getting an Archon.”

“Archons are impossible,” the Captain stated flatly. “Anyone who claims to have done one of them is lying.”

“What if they did them before they became an Archon?”

Jihadia looked at her navigational officer, not ever having considered that possibility before. “Technically that wouldn’t count as an Archon, but it’d still be scoreboard worthy.”

2

March 31, 3102

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

Tavarini reached down with his armored mandibles and picked up yet another lizard body, throwing it over the railing to the pile below to clear the small area of cover behind a bulkhead on the walkway the Bsidd were holding. The last assault had nearly choked them out, leaving them with too many bodies and not enough room to put them. The next wave would be on them any second and he needed to get behind cover as much as possible, hence he and the others were chucking the warm corpses wherever they could.

The walkway they were on was small, barely 8 meters wide, but it had a lot of nooks and openings into other areas, with a railing beside the bulkhead that opened to another larger promenade below. It didn’t connect to the upper level directly, and this damn lizard shipyard ring was a maze of connecting tunnels, ramps, and ladders. Almost all of the fighting was being conducted in small groups at extreme close range, with the lizards literally crowding out every available open space with a flood of bodies running at you and firing at pointblank range.

Their rifles and pistols were annoying, but it was the det packs that were the biggest concern. They’d cornered many Bsidd over the past two months and blasted through their armor. A handful had died, but most had to be evacuated with mangled bodies. This type of fighting was different than he was used to, but at least the lizards couldn’t throw hundreds of phaser shots against your shields at once…but the downside was that you didn’t have anywhere to run when one of the little bomb carriers found his way through the others and ran up in your face.

Hence every square meter of clear floor was precious, and as he grabbed another lizard body…or rather the upper half of one that had been cut in two with a plasma rod…he chucked it over the side ignoring the blood splatters on his armor. His shields were down on his mandibles for the moment, and the purple battle plates were already covered in lizard gore. It was something he’d gotten used to, barely even noticing now as his mind was focused on the next engagement.

A ping on his battlemap told him that was going to be on them soon enough. Star Force had already managed to conquer and secure a small slice of the shipyard ring, but they were having to defend it on both sides across miles of interior terrain, both up and down, as the lizards poured combat troops up the elevator shafts from the planet’s surface and continued to send them against the invading troops.

The promenade below was a battleground that had already been fought on and won, with the entrances, the main ones anyway, having been welded shut so they didn’t have to leave guards. As it was, the Bsidd army was spread out across this front so much that it almost seemed like there were hundreds of battles going on rather than just one, with each corridor, level, and section having its own unique history that was seeing the typical Star Force victories be pushed back by the corpse clutter.

Worse yet, the little lizards could crawl over each other far better than the larger Bsidd could do, so they had a movement advantage. Not to mention being able to crawl through maintenance shafts and other small passageways. Most of the Bsidd soldiers were Betas, but some of the smaller Epsilons had been dispatched to look for and hunt down lizards slipping through in odd places. They could never come in sufficient numbers to be a major threat, but the Bsidd couldn’t afford to have wounded personnel getting ambushed behind the front lines or a det pack carrier running up from behind them.

It was a mess, but they were working their way through it. This was lizard territory, for sure, but Tavarini was glad there weren’t wide open fields for their tanks and aircraft to operate on. Det packs aside, the Bsidd were the largest, most heavily armored units in play and he liked that change from their ‘standard’ battles…as if there was ever such a thing with the lizards.

Movement on his right caught his attention and he saw green lizard bodies wearing black vests moving on top of the piles ahead of them down the corridor. They weren’t wounded crawling for safety, but incoming troops slipping over the tops of the piles like they were surfing a wave on the ocean. Their rifles were strapped to their backs and they were running on all fours, something he’d rarely seen lizards do before this invasion, but it was obvious that the movement was all too natural for them.

A pink phaser blast shot by him, missing one of his mandibles by a few inches as he reengaged shields across his entire body save for the treads on his shoe bumps and the weapon muzzles attached to a few of his numerous mandibles. Most of his body looked like a collection of thick sticks, upon which he could run or crawl or jump as he liked, but they were all covered in armor with some holding the tread for his ‘boots’ while others were free to grasp or hit with. A few others were covered in weapons that were physically attached to his armor since he didn’t have anything even remotely like fingers, though he could grasp things better than most Humans given how many mandibles he could apply to a given object.

He pointed one of his rifle mandibles down the corridor as he put most of his odd body behind the bulkhead, twitching the end of his limb inside the device that activated the trigger. A blue plasma lance shot out and hit one of the many lizards surging towards them. It crumpled onto the pile as the lizards behind it simply rushed over the new terrain. They couldn’t get too many through this chokepoint, but then again only two or three Bsidd could get into firing position on them, so that evened out a bit. Holding position was easy, for the lizards couldn’t engage them in hand to hand without getting cut to shreds with their plasma rods…unless they had a det pack, in which case all the lizards had to do was get close enough to take down their shields and do some damage to their armor.

That had already happened twice today, with several jagged cuts on his purple body plates marking shrapnel damage, though they hadn’t gotten close enough to him to do more than force him back while his shields recharged. He’d had to give up some ground after that, but they’d taken it back and then some, though the gains were little more than dozens of meters with their orders being to hold the general area and adjust as needed while other units were probing behind enemy lines.

What units those were he didn’t know, nor had seen, for he’d been so busy here he couldn’t think of much else and he hoped there would be a relief team coming within a few hours so he could cycle back, get some food and water, maybe a little sleep. That wasn’t happening right now, so he stubbornly held his ground and shot a couple more lizards before he got a ‘hold’ order on his helmet.

He complied, even as the lizards were nearly on top of them, then saw a fast moving dot on his battlemap approaching them from behind. By the time he recognized the icon the dark blue armor of an Archon mage flashed past his position, brushing up against a couple of his mandibles as she shot by the bulkhead…then pile of lizard bodies exploded backwards under some type of invisible attack, throwing the dead and living back on top of each other.

Two white beams of light flashed into existence and suddenly the Archon was chopping apart lizard bodies in a frenzy and pushing her way through the mess and out of sight ahead.

The hold fire order was rescinded, along with a ‘don’t follow me’ command.

Tavarini looked at his fellow Bsidd curiously, then the two of them came out of cover and ran forward a few steps to give them better firing lines on the surviving lizards that were trying to crawl their way out of the pile.

Ginsi flashed past the Bsidd, getting on the other side of friendly lines and brandishing her pair of death sabers. She’d been told that the term ‘lightsaber’ had been strictly banned, though that’s exactly what they looked like, only flat to the point of invisible when viewed on the side. Problem was they weren’t actually swords and couldn’t parry anything. If she crossed the two she carried together they’d pass right through each other, and anything else would either be cut by them or disrupt the intense energy field that comprised the cutting devices.

Since they weren’t true swords they needed another name, and it had only been with reluctance that Star Force had even developed the weapons. They’d evolved out of the Bsidd plasma rods, and then the Archon plasma swords…both of which had such a low ammo count that they were almost a waste of time against hundreds of thousands of lizards, though both of those could still be used as blunt object weapons when they were depleted of charge.

The death sabers could not, which was why Ginsi was carrying a special pack with no gear in it whatsoever. It was the same size and approximate shape, not to mention a bit heavy, but it made up for that drawback in longevity. She could still run, jump and tumble with it, but the tethers that ran down her arms and ended at her wrists connected to the base of the two sabers she held and fed them with continuous power. Disconnect the weapons from it and she’d get a couple hundred dead lizards and that was it.

These weren’t stun weapons, and there was only one purpose for them…cutting apart lizards fast and efficiently with one hit kills. It was a badly needed upgrade to their fighting arsenal, but one that didn’t allow for taking prisoners or limited combat. In an environment like this, close quarters with a lot of bodies all around you, it made for a very potent weapon system when paired with an Archon mage.

Which had turned Ginsi into a killing machine.

She wasn’t fighting with troops backing her, she was going solo, same as several other Archons in different locations. Her mission was to probe beyond the defense lines and just rack up a body count. With her psionics, and especially the addition of her new Jumat that Taryn had been gracious enough to give her ahead of schedule, there was nothing the lizards could do to stop her short of detonating a really big bomb in her face.

Her armor could take a det pack and survive it, so she wasn’t holding back and aggressively pushed past the Bsidd position, cutting her way down a long corridor that eventually led to a larger promenade that was used to haul cargo to and from various sections like a highway.

And it was filled with lizards waiting in orderly and blocky groupings that were being dispatched piecemeal into adjacent exits that would filter their way through to the thousands of tiny combat fields they were engaging the Star Force troops on.

Ginsi let slip a wry grin, no longer thinking of the lizards as people, just targets. She’d been careful to avoid thinking like that before, but after so many engagements with them and not even a single lizard in the history of the war ever surrendering to Star Force, she’d let go that safety restraint. They still offered them multiple opportunities to surrender, and would continue to do so, but in a situation like this where they were actively fighting and they were spamming Star Force lines with millions of infantry…the best way she could protect her Regulars was by becoming a slayer, and gruesome as it was, Ginsi didn’t mind at all.

These were bad guys, and taking them down fast and efficiently wasn’t a problem with these death sabers…so long as she hit killing blows. It was either take them out or not strike, for there was no point in maiming them or lopping off a hand just for fun. These were threats that needed to be taken out, with pain and punishment nowhere in her mental vocabulary.

It was a very fine line to walk, mentally, but Ginsi didn’t have trouble with it. The death sabers were definitely a weapon that could be used to torture, but neither Star Force nor her would ever use it that way…and that’s why it was reserved specifically for high ranking Archons. Those who could walk that fine line between being a slayer and a butcher, and could do so with such lethal efficiency that the lizards would have no way to stop them.

Ginsi launched herself into the first row of the lizards as they pulled their rifles off their backs and fired at her, swiping both glowing white sticks through two of their chests and cutting both in half as she passed them by, then with the help of her Pefbar she put herself into a controlled twirl that saw another 5 of them taken out Darth Maul fashion as her shields flared with phaser hits that suddenly began hitting friendly targets as she redirected and dashed a different way.

Point to point she jumped/ran, slashing and making clean kills each time while covering the artificial ground with pools of blood that the living lizards trampled through trying to get at her. None of them fled, all of them stayed and fought, pumping shot after shot into her shields whenever they could get the chance. A part of that was admirable, most of it was just stupid, but that’s what the lizard empire was and these people were born locked into it, apparently without the will to break free…and definitely no option to do so logistically, for even if they wanted to get away they’d never have anywhere to go, save for those rare times they met Star Force on the battlefield and were offered a way out.

The fact that none of them took it meant these lizards weren’t victims, and were fully committed to a combined will and mission. Dying for the cause didn’t concern them. Making themselves useful was their only priority, and even if they only landed a single phaser hit against Ginsi they were accomplishing that…though there was no way she was going to let them wear down her defenses so far that they’d actually get a chance to kill her.

Not bothering to count, though a bit interested in what the number had become, Ginsi continued to slay lizards and the more concentrated groups like this that she encountered the better, for there were billions of additional lizards on their way up the connecting columns from the planet’s surface, and it looked like the ground war was going to be fought on this spacebound ring long before they ever set foot on the surface.

And without heavy weapons or aircraft to counter her, it was only going to be a question of how many she could kill and how fast.

3

August 18, 3104

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

Paul dropped down from an opening in the ceiling, one he’d just quietly cut with a very hot finger, and fell down into a mass of lizards, hitting them with a Fornax field as he punched aside a couple leading into a twirl of his death sabers. He lit them and started jumping from one area to another and mowing down all the infantry as they desperately tried to target him with their phaser rifles. A few hits were absorbed by his shields but they couldn’t land even a tenth of their shots…and it wasn’t because he was messing with their minds. Once he landed, his Fornax disappeared and he took them all hand to hand, though dropping an Ubven field on top of them would have been much easier.

He hadn’t done that, nor was he using any of his psionics now that he was on the ground. He did what was necessary with blade and muscle alone, not even engaging the powered nature of the light Archon armor he was wearing. It was originally gold, but after nearly 8 hours of fighting there was little of it showing beneath the blood splatters. His shields kept most of it off, but he’d taken on such large groupings that some of them had managed to peel that defensive layer off him a few times, resulting in a bloodbath as the precision cuts left the lizards’ dismembered body parts spurting blood as Paul passed through them.

This group was about six or seven hundred strong, but they didn’t prove a challenge…nor did they flee. They all just stayed put and kept shooting him, despite the fact they had no chance of stopping him. It was mindless slaughter and the lizards were forcing it upon him, but when he got finished with this group and was then going to be on his way back for a rest and a new power pack something inside him snapped.

When he got to the last three lizards he slashed two clean in half with a single move, each arm holding a blade that passed through two lizards’ midsections and cleaving them as well as a couple of wrists in the process. Rather than jump through them to the last lizard Paul checked up, yanking the rifle out of the lizard’s hands and tossing it aside.

The standard variant snarled and ran to the side, picking up another and aiming at Paul. The Archon let him fire twice, then he also ripped it out of his grip with his telepathy.

The lizard did not run, instead scrambling around to find another weapon in the bloody mess that was now the floor. This time Paul wicked it away from his hands before he could get to it, then he froze the lizard in place with a telekinetic grip around its waist.

“Why do you keep fighting and dying?” Paul asked in lizard. “You can live. You can all live if you would just surrender. Why are you forcing us to kill you?” he demanded, though he already knew his reasons. After so many deaths by his own hand today his nerves were on edge, for enemies they might be, but he did not like killing them, especially when they were this helpless.

The lizard squirmed around, trying to wiggle out of the Human’s invisible grasp.

“Answer me!” Paul yelled, retracting his helmet with an energy shield still covering his head just in case he’d missed another threat. He stared into the lizard’s pitch black eyes with his own twinkling grey orbs. “This world holds billions of you. Do we really have to kill you all to take it?”

The lizard snarled something in its own language that translated as an insult but Paul didn’t let it go, nor did he kill it, he just held it still and stared it down. Several minutes passed before he spoke again.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I may not kill you, but one of us will eventually,” the lizard finally answered.

“We are here to stop you from killing everyone in the galaxy,” Paul said icily. “We don’t want your deaths.”

“Your words are meaningless, Star Force. You will die like the rest of our enemies, no matter how many of us it takes.”

“Do you care nothing of being in the right?” Paul asked, sensing that he didn’t understand the concept. “Are you certain that we’re the enemy?”

“You kill us. You are the enemy.”

“We only kill you because you force us to. Surrender and you will live.”

“We will not submit to you or anyone else. One may die, but the collective will survive.”

“You don’t care about dying?”

The lizard didn’t answer, just trying to extricate himself from the invisible hold, and Paul sensed that this conversation was over, so he shoved him back a few meters and dumped him on the floor. He tripped, with his tail catching on a corpse and flipping him over.

“Not today,” Paul said, turning around casually and walking away. A few seconds later a phaser hit struck the shield covering his head, but he ignored it. Several more impacted his shields before he got to a doorway and disappeared around a corner. A few seconds later the lizard came after him, getting another line of sight on the Human, but before he could fire at his back both he and the weapon were picked up off the ground and thrown back out the door.

The lizard immediately got back up and in pursuit, but when he got around the corner the Human was gone. A short chase followed, but he could find no trace of the slayer that had killed everyone else in his unit but had left him alive. Eventually he retreated, falling back to find another lizard unit to incorporate himself with and to receive new orders. Unless he had a mission that required solo action, there was no benefit to operating alone. Better to pool his strength with the others, which was the only way to take down the heavily armored enemy infantry.

Paul made his way back to friendly lines…which was kilometers away through the interior of the ring. When he got there he bypassed the sentries and heavy defense posts as usual, but instead of checking into one of the relief areas onboard that held Star Force facilities, some prefab, some custom constructions, he headed to one of the protected hangar bays and boarded a dropship. He had it deliver him back to the nearby parked Excalibur and went straight into one of the most remote parts on the ship.

It was in the sanctum, a little corner of it that was reserved for high ranking Archons. There was a special meditation chamber there that had several different themes to it, with Paul heading for the one that was based on Dagobah.

The entrance was open, with only an energy shield separating the artificial corridor from the interior. He stepped through it, having to push a bit to allow him passage, for it was keeping the dense fog contained within the ‘natural’ environment of the little park. As soon as he got inside he did an about face, immediately stepping back outside the energy barrier. He hit the release for his armor and had it peel apart across his chest, arms, and legs with the helmet disappearing behind his neck.

Walking out of the metallic scarecrow he went back inside, this time feeling the warm fog hit his face as soon as he entered. He stood there for a moment, breathing it in and trying to get it to wash through his senses. When it didn’t fully work he felt a pang of panic, but locked down on it. Dropping to a knee, his sweat soaked uniform picked up a bit of mud from the contact as he ran through a mental reset that he’d had to do a long time ago.

After a few minutes that worked, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to disconnect, think outside the box as he often did here, but even though his armor hadn’t let any of the lizard blood through to his skin he still felt covered in gore. The bastards were making Star Force fight like they did in order to stop them, and even though he knew that wasn’t entirely correct there was enough of it that was true to unsettle his stomach. They were taking planets from them, but he still felt like they were losing, in ideology anyway, and he had to find a way around this.

But as he thought it through he came to the same conclusions he always did…if the lizards wouldn’t surrender and they wouldn’t stop attacking people then they had to be destroyed. Unlike other races, if they took them prisoner anyway they’d just kill themselves, so there was no indoctrination/imprisonation option with them, nor was there an option of taking their younglings away from them. Lizards didn’t learn their cultural core through experience, but rather through genetic knowledge placed into their coding before they were even born.

So there were no untainted younglings to rescue. Lizards were produced as a product from genetic seeds. They were engineered to be this way, and even if Star Force could find a way to fix that genetic code to undo the inhibitors it would do no good for those alive and the planets not under their control. Star Force could create a new lizard civilization, in theory, one day but it wouldn’t change a damn thing. The current one would still have to be fought or destroyed, meaning that this blood bath had to happen or these bastards would continue to conquer and destroy all the weaker races they came across until they consumed the galaxy…or ran into the V’kit’no’sat.

But by that time they’d have grown so large that it almost wouldn’t matter. Not for the little guys out there. Paul and the others had to take these bastards out now before they could kill more, but they were forcing Star Force to make it a blood bath and something in Paul’s gut didn’t like the feel of that. In the past he hadn’t liked it either, but when they were a greater threat it seemed appropriate given the circumstances.

Now though, these lizards honestly didn’t stand a chance against him aside from some fluke. He could kill them so easily, in so many ways, that there was literally no point in fighting. It was an automatic loss for them, but they were forcing him to kill them anyway, wasting their lives by the trillions in this war.

Paul had killed so many over the past couple years on this ring that he had no idea how many he was personally responsible for, but he may very well have been in 7 or 8 digit range by now. And while he wasn’t in much danger he couldn’t say the same for his troops. They were hard to kill and this station was confined compared to ground combat, but there were still casualties mounting. In order to protect them he had to kill as many of the lizards as he could, and right now he should be back down there, resting up for a bit then going back out again, but something inside him was throwing up a red flag.

So he’d come here, and now he couldn’t get his head clear. And not because of something unique to today, but he was realizing that he had been blind to something for a very long time. He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel a little corner in his mind starting to peel back, one that suggested he had a sheet of fog over his mind and now that he’d noticed it he couldn’t let it go.

The little peak he was getting made him feel like he was mentally suffocating and hadn’t even realized it previously. He had to get a clean ‘breath’ in, but right now he just knelt on the ground unable to mentally figure out how to do that with the lizard gore all over his state of mind.

On impulse he stood up and began stripping off his uniform. Shirt, shoes, pants…everything went in a pile on the muddy ground and he walked off through the fog feeling his toes sinking into the grime.

But it was a cleansing grime, a ‘holy’ grime, and Paul felt his mind slacken just a touch more. He got the feeling he needed to run away as far as he could, so to that end he headed past the partially submerged X-wing to the back side of the chamber…which had holographic walls and cleverly designed terrain to give the feeling that you were on a wide open planet. He could see through it with his Pefbar but he never turned it on in here, wanting to drink up as much ambiance as possible.

Paul found a little pond, barely an offshoot of a larger one, with holographic frogs, snakes, and other wildlife surrounding it. The sounds of the swampy forest were all around him as he sat down on the edge of the pond, barely bigger than a hot tub, and slid in feet first underneath a thick root. He had to wedge himself through the small gap, but when he got underneath it he found it was deeper than he’d expected. He went all the way under and held himself there, hiding from the planet, the fleet, and even the other Archons on this ship.

He mentally made himself so small he disappeared, and even though this chamber was shielded against telepathy he engaged his Kgat, making his mental signature vanish had there been any telepaths within the chamber. Paul let himself go anonymous, disappearing from anywhere and everywhere while sinking into a seated position on the muck at the bottom of the dirty water hole with a cage of roots over his head.

The trailblazer held his breath, but it wasn’t much of an effort. His focus was on disconnecting from anything and everything, even to the point that he wasn’t planning on going back to the fight, the war, or even the ADZ. There was no tomorrow, no duties, missions, or have-tos of any kind. All there was was this moment, and everything that had an influence over him, directly or indirectly, he released. No one in the universe mattered right now, it was just him and his little pond on Dagobah. He even let himself forget he was on a ship, soaking in his surroundings on the mysterious world from Star Wars lore.

Before his lungs ran out of oxygen he slowly came to the surface, the top of his head poking out of the water until his nose cleared the waterline. It bumped against a root and he held there very still for a moment, eyes closed as he felt the air on his wet forehead that was dripping rivulets off his bangs. He was silent, but the forest around him was not. Wisps of fog flowed past him, interfering with his vision and sometimes completely eclipsing his sight…which finally sold his mind on the disconnected thing.

Paul was a Jedi in the swamps of Dagobah, and suddenly a flow of relief surged through him as his mind finally released restraints he didn’t even know he’d been running with. One after another flicked off like dominoes, and for the first time in who knew how long did he truly breathe in a breath of clean air.

The lizard gore was gone and he was himself again…just himself, and that pile of clothes that was now well out of sight might as well be a Jedi robe for all he knew. Nothing unauthentic was now here to prick his mind out of the illusion, and that gave him the clarity to realize that something had to change. He didn’t run the same mental calculations again, knowing how they’d come out, but he chose to pursue the gut feeling and let it soak into him, with it becoming ever more clear that Star Force wasn’t on the path it needed to be. He wasn’t on the proper Jedi path, and he didn’t know what it was, but for the moment, here on Dagobah, he was himself again.

Paul stayed under those roots in the water for a long time, thinking without analyzing and getting a better sense of who he was rather than what the situation demanded of him until a very soft pitter patter of feet walked up in front of his position, almost inaudible amongst the sounds of the forest, until a slender, pale pair of feet stood a meter in front of his face with the genetically altered bright red and orange toenails of a Clan Angry Chipmunk Archon he immediately recognized despite not being able to see above her ankles through the roots.

4

Those feet slid into the water, followed by the rest of Riona’s slender, pale body as a small wave washed over Paul’s face. She didn’t say a word, vocally anyway, and repositioned herself in the mucky little hot tub alongside him, pulling a strand of wet hair out of her eyes. They both held still and silent for nearly a minute, with a wry smile on Paul’s face. Eventually she tapped him on the head with a finger, telling him to drop his Kgat.

Paul let go of the mental invisibility psionic, which blocked him from sensing or receiving from anyone else as well as hiding himself.

So who are we hiding from? she asked, eyes peeling and looking around the perimeter of their little puddle rather than at him as if there were a real threat.

The galaxy, he replied after a long pause.

Cozy spot. You come here a lot?

Do you usually make house calls naked?

This is a house? Doesn’t look like it. More like a slimy mud hole.

Is there something you need?

Riona smiled, finally turning her eyes to look at his, with both of their mouths still under the water line. I was going to ask you the same thing.

Because I came back to the ship?

Word is you’re pissed. What’s going on?

Paul frowned. Who said that?

A few Archons you passed on the way out. They said you were raging so hard they could feel it in your aura.

Paul turned inward for a moment, searching his memories. If I was I didn’t even notice.

Hence the raging part.

And you thought a naked you would cheer me up?

No, I saw your armor and clothes laying back there so I decided to follow suit. What are we doing here?

I needed to get away from everyone.

So why do we need to get away? she pressed, amending his ‘I’ into ‘we.’

To clear my head.

And that means getting naked and dunking yourself in a mud hole?

Oddly yes. This is the cleanest place I could think of, but even it took some time before I felt like myself again.

What’s wrong, Paul?

Something I need to figure out for myself, he said half apologetically.

Alright, she said, not taking offense. Paul felt the water move as she repositioned herself, then her face was in his and she kissed him underneath the waterline.

What are you doing? he asked when she pulled back.

You can either tell me what’s going on or we’re going to make out, she said, kissing him again.

Sweet, he said, pushing her back slightly with his arm. But I don’t take well to threats, he added sarcastically.

No threat, she said, kissing him a third time and holding it for several seconds, but you came here to relax and I’m going to help you do it.

Riona, he said as she kissed him again, but he didn’t feel like pushing her away too strongly.

Talk, she insisted.

Sometimes people just need some space.

There’s no one here. We’ve got all the space we need, she said, ignoring his attempts to put her off and kissing him again.

This time when she released the lip lock he slid an arm up in between them so she couldn’t do it again, but in a flash his arm was grabbed and pulled aside with the water surging up over his eyes as Riona got up on him and wrapped her arms and legs around him, pushing them face to face with her nose buried in the skin beneath his right ear.

No Paul, she said firmly. You’re not pushing me away this time. Either you talk or we’re making out. And if that doesn’t bother you I’m going to fuck you after that. We don’t have sex because there’s no purpose in it, but I have one now and believe me when I say I will do you in a heartbeat if I have to.

This is extortion, Paul complained.

Yep, she said, kissing the side of his neck, but this time she didn’t stop, only taking a few small breaks for a breath of air. He didn’t stop her, but he didn’t say anything either, calling her bluff.

Riona mentally shrugged, then repositioned her hold on him and pushed him all the way underneath the water so she could straighten him out and get herself in the proper alignment. When she started rubbing against him and felt a response Paul finally grabbed her with his telekinesis and stopped her from moving.

Something is wrong, he admitted.

Riona surged her Rentar and broke his hold, but rather to pursue her sexual agenda she pulled him back up into a sitting position and they both got their noses above water.

Spill, boy, she said, still wrapping him up in a four limbed hold.

We can’t keep going on like this.

Who exactly?

Me…and the rest of Star Force.

Riona stared at him closely, then went a bit bolder and hacked into his nervous system so she could get a better look at his mental state. She didn’t push in too deep as to be offensive, but just enough to get a feel for where he was at right now.

Too much gore?

The lizards are making us fight their way, and we can’t keep doing that.

What else can we do?

That’s the problem. I don’t have an answer for that.

So you came here to think?

Yes.

And you think better naked in a mud hole?

This place is meant to feel like Dagobah. Feel like the Force, clean, holy even. When I took my armor off I still felt gore covered. I had to chuck the uniform and immerse myself until my head washed clear.

But you’re still not alright.

I was ok by myself.

If I can knock you off center either I’m a lot hotter than I thought or you’re a lot weaker…and I know neither one is true.

I was able to find my center by disconnecting with everything, but if I go back out there, back to the fighting like I know I have to, I’m going to have to numb up. We have to fight them, but doing it this way is wrong. Not because they’re in the right, but because this isn’t the way we should be fighting. There are so many of them that have to be killed, with even more being grown to replace those we take out. They’re making us fight a blood bath and it’s just too damn easy. I can kill them so easily that it doesn’t feel right. If I was in danger it would be different, but I know that, despite how devious they are, unless they get lucky or I make a mistake they can’t stop me. I’m in total control and yet they’re making me go Sith and slaughter them.

Riona kissed him again, but this time on the forehead in an endearing way. Paul, you couldn’t be Sith if you tried.

This isn’t right, Riona. My gut says so and my logic says otherwise. The two aren’t matching up and that is the real problem. I don’t have the luxury of putting this off, because as long as I’m not down there fighting someone else is, and I’ll not have them die when I could easily have prevented it. And we can’t stall the invasion, for every day it lasts more people out there, people we may never even meet are getting killed. One more cruiser might not make a bit of difference here, but out there, if they’re like we were in the beginning, a single cruiser could conquer a planet. We can’t put this off, but I had to come up here and get my head clear before I go back down. It’s clear now, or was until you came in, but I know as soon as I leave I’ll have to numb up. I don’t want to do that, but I can’t find any other options.

I’ve gotten gore head too, you know. I think we all have at some point. Especially since we started using the death sabers…and no, that wasn’t a bad idea. It makes us a lot more efficient.

How do you deal with it?

I take a break and reset. Then I’m good to go.

How?

You don’t know?

Obviously not.

I mean about me. Or are you blind to it too?

I don’t know up from down right now, so please fill me in.

I’m not in command. I command virtually all of Star Force when needed, but all the second gen take the lead from you guys. I can trust them, and especially you, to do the right thing. If you’re leading us in this fight then I know we’re in the right, even if it gets bloody, and I do my part.

What if I lead you down the wrong path?

You’d never do that willingly, and it’s not like I don’t have a mind of my own. I’ve just got a different perspective than you.

And what do you see?

I see a threat that has to be eliminated. I don’t like the methods we have to use, but ultimately they’re choosing it. They can surrender whenever they want.

I know, I know. I’ve been around this logic loop hundreds of thousands of times. But my gut is saying otherwise. I’d been ignoring it until just now, when the gore got too much that I couldn’t ignore it subconsciously. A red flag was thrown and I won’t ignore that. Something is wrong and I can’t figure out what it is.

I think I know part of the problem. When was the last time you were kissed?

A moment ago.

Don’t be coy.

You know we don’t make a habit of it.

You misinterpret me. When was the last time you were kissed?

Paul frowned. Now I honestly don’t know what you mean.

Riona opened up a bit of her mind to him and moved her lips to his mouth and kissing him gently, making the emotion clear. It wasn’t a buzz, but rather a comfort. A release from fighting and a…reward?

You’re so far in you can’t even see it, she said, pulling back and bumping noses with him. You don’t have to lead every second of every day. You can take a break. Take a moment to rest.

I don’t have that luxury and you know it. Roger and Liam can handle a lot, but I’ve…

You’re the top dog.

Not exactly…

Yes you are. You all swap duties, Morgan has the highest rank, but at the end of the day you’re a little bit better than them.

Is that really what you think?

No, it’s what you think. If you really considered them peers you’d let them lead for a bit, but you think that if they haven’t found a solution to something then it’s up to you to do it. You always put yourself head of the line, first in the fight, at the tip of the spear. I am a lot of the time, but then in times like this I’m not at the tip, I get to hide behind the tip and not take the full brunt of the stress. You’re always on the tip because you won’t let yourself go anywhere else. I don’t know if the others are the same way or not, but I know you better than I know any of them. You came here to get some perspective, but you haven’t taken it all the way.

What am I missing?

You have to have someone to take the load off you. Putting it aside for you to pick up again later isn’t enough. You’re not fully letting it go.

I won’t let someone die while I take a vacation.

That’s the problem. You don’t trust the rest of us to be able to take the lead. If you did you wouldn’t have a problem bailing out now and then. That’s how I can handle the gore. I don’t have to worry about our course of action all the time. I can just trust in the mission that you’ve given me and lose myself in the moment…then walk away from it without having to second guess myself. It’s a nasty situation, what we have to do, but the lizards are creating it. I’m surviving it. You’re worrying about leading us into those battles.

It’s my job.

There’s more than one trailblazer, and far more than one Archon.

But none of us have found another way. Until someone does…

You don’t have that luxury. You have to get your head right now.

I don’t know how to do that out there…and I can’t hide in here.

Yes you can. You just need some help.

Yeah, I could use some help. Do you have any to give?

Cry.

Cry? Paul asked disingenuously.

I’ve got two shoulders for you to pick from. I’d let you use a breast too, but there’s not much there to lean on.

How is crying going to help?

Let go of responsibility for a moment. The galaxy is beating the crap out of you, you’re not doing it to yourself. You act like everything that happens is your own doing. This invasion isn’t your choice, we have to stop the lizards or other bad things happen. You can do whatever you want, but you’ve been forced into this along with the rest of us. If we had a better way of stopping the lizards we’d be doing it already. This is what we have to do, what we’ve been forced to do, and it’s tearing you apart bit by bit inside.

And how does crying change that?

Because you stop fighting it. When you’re in combat mode you numb up stuff, hold back, press forward. You don’t fully register injuries, and you don’t see the big picture. Sometimes you just need to let go and cry, feel the pain and nastiness and how badly you’ve gotten your ass kicked. And it’s a lot easier to do that when you have a comforting body to sink into…and no, I’m not talking about sex. That’s just another distraction. For the record, I used to have a huge crush on you.

Really?

Yeah, and I wasn’t the only one. But now I don’t, and that’s no slight against you. You’re just as hot as you’ve always been, and it wouldn’t be hard at all to get off on you if I still did that sort of thing. And I would have, just so you know, if you hadn’t started talking.

It took me a moment to figure that out.

Don’t make a promise unless you plan to carry it out. No, I don’t go all fireworks seeing you naked. I know you too well for that illusion to kick in. You’re a brother, but without the societal social boundaries kicking in. Glad we got rid of those, by the way, even if we don’t apply it. No, the sexual attraction is just a biological function now, but it still can have a use. Come here, she said, despite the fact that they were already on top of each other, but somehow she managed to get a bit closer and share more skin contact than they had before with her wrapping around his body at an odd angle that kept their parts from lining up.

Just let go, she asked him. Let your guard down. Trust me with your security, with the responsibilities, with the threats and the thinking. Sink into me and just feel the bad things that have happened to you and others. Don’t hold them at arms length any more, steeling yourself to get through the mission. There is no mission here, it’s out there, with other people carrying it out. Right now it’s just you and me and this holy mud hole. Let go of everything and just feel…and cry. Doesn’t matter if the tears come or not, but sometimes the way to fighting an internal problem isn’t to fight it at all. You just need to face it. You don’t usually have that luxury because other people are depending on you, but right now they’re not. We’ve got these lizards beat, you know that, so let go and let everyone else handle this right now. Just let me hold you and let yourself enjoy it.

And if you’re a bit more than a sister to me?

Then compliment taken, but it doesn’t matter. If I accidentally pop you off it doesn’t matter. You’ll level out eventually, then it’ll just be you and me and no distractions. Your body feels good to me, just touching and holding you. The galaxy is a messy, nasty, crude place, but you’re not. You’re a shining beacon of light, every bit of you from your hair down to your toes. I feel good just being here with you, this close, away from everything else. If I can do the same for you indulge in it.

Paul felt himself choke up and it surprised him, then he noticed his hands started to shake under the water. At first he thought something was brushing up against his fingers, but then he felt the shakes for what they were.

He had been holding back a lot, and now it was starting to creep its way to the surface.

Don’t fight it, Riona urged him. It’s a form of detox, just let it play out. I’ll be here as long as you need and then some. Hold onto me or just veg out, either way I’m keeping you in a death grip.

Paul wasn’t sure what to do, but after a few moments hesitation the ‘detox’ seemed to continue on its own without permission. He didn’t know if he should stop it so he held himself in check, thinking until his walls started to crumble and he just decided to trust Riona and indulge in it. She did feel good to his touch, and that comfort seemed to loosen him up even more when he stopped resisting it. She did turn him on, but after a few minutes that faded into a warm, passionate glow that, like she said, had no fireworks in it.

I love you, she said when his tears started to flow and she found herself reciprocating, able to feel his pain and stress bleeding off through their mental link. Immediately she realized she’d set herself up for an ‘I know’ response, but Paul said nothing, which only underscored how much he’d been burying inside himself all these years. There’d been rough times for Riona in the past, but she was beginning to realize there was a lot more to being a trailblazer than she thought, and she didn’t envy him this part.

As promised, she kept her death grip on him throughout the release process…then a bit longer for good measure, along with the fact that she didn’t envy leaving their sacred embrace and returning to the ugly galaxy either. She’d needed this moment too, and stretching it out a few minutes longer wasn’t going to inconvenience anyone else. They had time, and the war could wait a few more minutes.

5

December 1, 3105

Tor System (Ninja Monkey territory)

Red Dragon

Morgan walked into her private command center and tiredly sat down on the cushioned pedestal in the center. She’d just gotten back from a very long campaign in the Firebird System pushing back a lizard advance and finally securing a planet there that the enemy had been stubbornly holding onto for decades. Now the system was fully Ninja Monkey territory and stellar orbit had been secured, meaning she could get to work developing the infrastructure there to add its wealth of natural resources to her little, isolated empire without worry of internal ambush.

Having engaged in a lengthy training session to purge the combat-induced stagnation out of her body on the way back, she was likewise not going to take the traditional ‘rest’ that she encouraged the others in her Clan to soak up. No, she had work to do…always had work to do, and she wasn’t going to waste time sleeping when her body could be relaxing here while her mind was still working to tie up loose ends and push new agendas.

She was getting no help from Star Force at all, which had been the original agreement, but she found that she was having to do a lot of the stuff that Davis did back in the day, especially now since Falconi had been reassigned. His promotion to Duke took him elsewhere within the empire and Morgan had been assigned a new Marquis…a very green one, literally, for he was a Protovic. The bioluminescent patches on his body constantly reminded Morgan of his lack of experience and she was badly missing Falconi, though she knew in time he’d adjust, for running a Clan wasn’t the same thing as operating a planet or system within Star Force’s integrated economy.

Here you had to keep everything self-contained, and you didn’t even have the luxury of trading with other Clans for basic necessities as a fallback. That was a stipulation that Morgan had heartily agreed to, wanting to do this completely on their own, though there had been some swapping going on over the years, with the original shared Ninja Monkey capitol of Everlast being traded away to Clan Cortana in exchange for a combination of tech and raw materials. The rest of the Ninja Monkey possessions, save for their little slice of Antarctica, had also been exchanged for badly needed resources now that Morgan had a total of 17 systems under her control and some 38 habitable planets to colonize.

She didn’t need the other possessions, nor did she want her people spread out so far. Her Clan had staked its claim along the coreward border and held it firm. This was their home now, so consolidating their population and resources had only made since, but now that the big pieces had been traded away everything they needed had to be produced internally, including the new Dre’mo’don-equipped drones. They were running short on the necessary arc elements and Ninja Monkey production facilities for such things were barely out of their infancy.

Falconi had gotten the Clan squared away and capable of producing at least a little bit of everything on their own, but Morgan needed to push her industrial capability as far and as fast as possible, for she had plenty of willing volunteers requesting to join her Clan. Not all would qualify, and even those that did might not last under her rigid work schedule, but for as many washed out or decided to leave to pursue another course, more were always waiting in the queue lines for her to select them.

And she was doing so personally most of the time. Falconi had been handling that, but now that she had Yivati trying hard just to keep up with everything demanded of him Morgan had been pulling some of the duties her way to try and keep him from imploding under the stress. Clan Ninja Monkey wasn’t the largest of the Clans, but it was rumored to be the most intense. They had long lists of goals and timetables to achieve them on, military production requirements heightened by the fact that they were in a war zone, and numerous colonies to establish and grow with too few people to man the construction crews.

Morgan had been running her Clan nearly her entire life, and this change of venue had been ongoing for almost 300 years now, but there was always so much to do. Never a respite. For she wouldn’t allow one. They needed to grow larger and stronger and ‘tomorrow’ wasn’t acceptable for that. It had to happen now, for the lizards were attacking her Clan whenever and wherever they thought they saw weakness, forcing her into losing ships, resources, and time to hold them at bay…and then there was the desire and need to take more systems away from them.

Her new Marquis had been thrown in over his head, intentionally she thought, and Morgan didn’t like her Clan being used like this, but Davis knew what he was doing most of the time. If he thought Yivati could handle the pressure then she hoped he’d adjust quickly, because carrying him until he got up to speed was wearing her out more than normal.

As her top ranked Archon body rested in a sluggish seated position, Morgan used the telepathic interface and brought up dozens of display maps, screens, diagrams, and lists that she had been working on previously. Picking up where she left off, the trailblazer continued work on colony development plans, designing her worlds rather than leaving that to the Marquis or some of her Administrators.

Everything flowed from her, even when Falconi was here, and she’d been implementing a more united grouping of star systems than was traditional for Star Force. Typically a system was stimulated with outside cargo shipments to get it squared away and self-sufficient, then allowed to develop on its own merits going forward. Morgan wasn’t patient enough for that, so there was an unbelievably high amount of cargo being transported between her 17 systems, utilizing their strengths to cover each other’s weaknesses in the here and now rather than going for balanced economies straight off.

Red Dragon was the only world that was truly self-sufficient, and it was the current Clan capitol now that they’d abdicated Everlast. Morgan was hardly ever here in person, linked into the interstellar comm system and issuing orders from afar as she went to put out the various fires herself, along with leading the crusades pushing further into lizard territory along the border. She hadn’t gone deep into it, but had stretched out her holdings in a plane along the border line, setting Ninja Monkey territory as a barrier the lizards had to either take down or bypass to get at the other Star Force worlds.

With detection systems and comm relays set up in uninhabited systems in between her own, she had a detection grid that could alert the rest of Star Force if a lizard fleet moved through her territory to hit them directly, but to date that had never occurred and the lizards seemed curiously interested in hitting her territory in an aggressive manner despite the fact that they were losing handily everywhere else Star Force was engaging them. Even now their core worlds were under assault, finally, after all this time, yet still here they were, pressing back on her expansion and challenging her ability to hold onto the planets she’d taken.

Part of Morgan missed the really big battles that were going down, but these were personal and hard enough to win as it was. She trusted the others to get the job done out there while she pushed the long term objectives here…which was, and had always been, preparing for the day the V’kit’no’sat came back. Hopefully they had millennia more to work with, for she was painfully aware how unready they were now. Her Clan was growing, fast and hard, forged under the pressures of constant battles and never having a moment of peace.

She kept the internal pressure up on her people on purpose, wanting to see who would break and who wouldn’t. It was done in a fair and honest way, with everyone knowing just how hard being a member of Clan Ninja Monkey was going to be and the fact that they might not last a month here. So long as people were informed and warned prior to inclusion she didn’t mind pressing them. They could always opt out, but if they didn’t and they stayed, they’d be part of a very elite faction within Star Force.

But even with 17 systems, all of which were painfully undeveloped, including Tor, her Clan was a small piece of the greater whole and vastly inferior to the Bsidd. Morgan practically drooled with envy at the sheer power and size that faction had become under Larissa’s direction. Their growth rate was astonishing, even now that the rest of the empire wasn’t funneling resources to them, and the bulk of the troops guarding the ADZ and pressing into lizard territory were Bsidd.

Humans had become the shock troops, going where the fighting was the toughest, but the Bsidd now made up the majority of Star Force’s overall combat troops. Morgan didn’t begrudge them that status…she just wanted the Ninja Monkeys to rise enough to even be in the discussion. Right now their role was small, guarding a bit of the coreward border and doing their own thing while hundreds of other agendas and missions were taking place across Star Force territory. There were 99 other Clans out there, not to mention dozens of factions larger than her personal holdings on the starmap.

But she’d put her people up against any others head to head with equal numbers…that went for her combat troops down to her techs. Her Clan had no civilian population. Everyone here was working on something to better the Clan overall and that environment wasn’t unique to the Ninja Monkeys, but it was the strongest here. Many people had stated in various public records that they’d worked their asses off to qualify for Clan membership with the intent on coming here because they were sick of the ‘civilian’ atmosphere within the rest of Star Force and they wanted to be part of a united community. They wanted to be part of a team with a purpose.

And no Clan had a more obvious purpose than Morgan’s Clan.

Maybe Davis had seen something in Yivati that had warranted his inclusion here, but Morgan could vouch that Falconi had not been twiddling his thumbs bored and needing a greater challenge. In fact the system Davis had assigned him, while being larger and far older than Tor, was not as taxing a position as Ninja Monkey Marquis had been. He’d told Morgan that himself after the fact, making them both wonder why Davis had made the change.

He’d helped her build this new chapter in her Clan’s history, and she missed his expertise badly right now. Yivati was not an adequate replacement at the moment. Not even close.

But at the end of the day this was her Clan and was run her way. People moving in and out wasn’t uncommon in the Clans, though it was a bit odd at the higher ranks. That had changed once the new mandate had come out, with a lot of people spending time in the ‘pressure cookers’ to test and develop their higher end skills before transitioning back into Mainline or Axius to a more normal posting.

Axius…that was another faction that Morgan was envious of. Their integrated racial units were something that she’d been studying for a long time, stealing what ideas she could in her military and civilian alignments. Culture wasn’t an issue here, for all Ninja Monkeys ended up with the same one given time. No, it was a matter of biologically fitting races together into the most efficient packages.

Scionate worked well with Archons because they were just as fast, if not faster over ground. An Archon could run as fast as they liked and a Scionate unit could keep pace whereas Bsidd or Calavari were downright sloths. That said, when you needed to hold a position the Bsidd were very difficult to dislodge, and they themselves had different variants that could be reorganized into numerous configurations. They were an army within an army, and one that Morgan was still learning and experimenting with, for she had a small chunk of her Clan made up of Bsidd recruits.

Then you had the fliers…Lacvamat, Hammid, and Hepcha on the military front, then throw in a dozen others that could be incorporated into tech or support roles. They were difficult to understand, in a tactical sense, with the book still being written and new tech developed to allow them to be efficient and effective rather than just tagalongs. Right now Morgan had a solid group of Hammids that she was using as battlefield scouts and couriers, and they too could keep up with an Archon on the run, but in a fight they did poorly in comparison.

Then again a Human under water wasn’t all that effective either. Elarioni were far superior, save that they lacked the psionics that made Morgan a female version of Poseidon. Humans, and especially Archons, could do everything. They’d learned tricks and how to train for even the stuff they weren’t well built for, but Morgan knew that while that was a necessity she didn’t dare do the same with the other races. She had to incorporate their specialties while letting other Clans work on finding secondary applications for them.

Morgan wasn’t going to have any fliers swimming, even though there was some progress on that front elsewhere. And there was no point whatsoever in having an Irondel trained as a Commando. They were the size of a football and just as easy to kick. On their scale they definitely could fight, but so many of the other races in the galaxy were larger than them that there was little point in her Clan employing them in that regard.

What they were good at was fighting in mechs, or at least specialized mechs. Because of their smaller size an identical mech to what a Human piloted could be outfitted with stronger weapons, heavier armor, or whatever else the extra volume that wasn’t necessary for the pilot to exist within could be retasked for. That was one advantage she was exploring, though she also knew that making specialized mechs could be a problem. Better to make modifications to a Human mech to allow an Irondel to pilot it rather than make a mech that a Human could not fit into if needed.

That said she was still looking into the possibility of making stronger mechs for the smaller pilots, along with some other applications that turned the little squirrel-like race into an advantage for her Clan rather than baggage they had to carry.

That was one founding principle that she had set down long ago. No one was carried here. If they couldn’t keep up they’d be washed out, not in a mean way, because they’d go back into some other part of Star Force that they were more suited for. They’d even have a chance to come back later if they improved their skills, so Ninja Monkey culture hadn’t become a nail biting endeavor with people worried about washing out. No, Morgan had specifically seen to it that everyone knew and understood that this was a test of their current abilities, not their potential. If someone wanted to be here badly enough all they had to do was devote the years necessary to prep work, and even if they failed in their first opportunity they’d be able to keep improving until they were good enough to remain here under the increased standards and schedule.

Her people were the best and not because they were vicious with each other. They were supportive of one another, but they would not cheat to keep someone here that didn’t belong. They’d expose weaknesses as Morgan had asked them to, with those weak links being given a set of standards to train to with an automatic return ticket if they completed that personal mission elsewhere within the empire.

And Morgan wasn’t one to talk without doing, which was why she was always in motion, even when resting, as she was now. Fighting on the front didn’t allow for her to carry out all the administrative duties required of her and she had a lot of catching up to do. She get through a few hours of it here and now before she finally got some food and sleep, then in the morning she’d be back here after her first round of workouts.

There was no one here to distract her, so even ten minutes snagged from her demanding schedule could be of use. To that end she worked now, planning out the development of one of her colonies’ cities that had only just begun to establish a spaceport. Her plans for it were years in the future, but she wanted them in place in case the fighting heated up and she didn’t have a chance to get back to it later. Administrators could design and build cities independently, but Morgan wasn’t going to leave anything to chance within her territory.

Every bit of it was going to be by her design, and her new Marquis and existing staff were here to assist her in fleshing out the Clan as she liked, not doing it for her. Every unit, every building, every ship that the Ninja Monkeys had determined how much territory she could take from the lizards and hold, and Morgan was insistent on squeezing any and all advantages out of the limited resources and personnel that she had.

Her Clan was badly outmatched by the V’kit’no’sat, and she couldn’t stand to see the Ninja Monkeys progress slower than they were capable of. They’d been very fortunate to go unnoticed thus far, and there were no promises for tomorrow. She had to get her Clan to the point where it could at least hold its own in a fight, and they were far from that now…against the V’kit’no’sat anyway.

The lizards were another story, and truthfully she was using them to hone her Clan for the real war to come. That was the only way Morgan could stand to see the wall of lizard systems in front of her and not go after them all. She had to keep the big picture in mind as much as that galled her…and she was grateful that Davis had given her permission to take down as many of them as she could, so she didn’t actually have to hold back with regards to her Clan.

But she was a trailblazer, and all it would take was one call and she’d have a fleet of Mainline or Bsidd on her doorstep and she could gut punch the lizard empire before her that was growing stronger and more bold by the day. Her Clan wasn’t holding back, but she still was, as was Star Force on the whole. She wished that wasn’t necessary, but Morgan knew they couldn’t chase the lizards much further toward the galactic core. If they tipped the V’kit’no’sat off to their presence now it’d be over before the fighting even began.

They weren’t ready, and damn it all, the lizards had to be ignored on the other side of the line, but that didn’t meant she couldn’t use them as target practice for her Clan. Every one of them they killed diminished their strength and could potentially save some system out of their reach, so Morgan didn’t have any qualms about poking them in systems that she couldn’t take just yet.

And the lizards were obligingly poking back, giving her people the challenge needed to continue the transformation process into a Clan that could one day stand against the V’kit’no’sat.

Sadly, that day was far away and Morgan could feel their vulnerability as if it were an illness they were all stricken with…which was why she worked constantly to combat and kill that illness. No one in Clan Ninja Monkey worked harder or longer hours than Morgan did, and her people knew it. She didn’t do it for them, but leading by example did have its benefits.

She just hoped that one of those would include her Marquis living up to her example, and doing so sooner rather than later.

6

February 9, 3106

Solar System

Mars

Po-1003886 came back from his workout fresh and lively even though the newly minted ranger was dead tired. He’d leveled up to the third tier of Archons four days ago and had been on a high ever since then, proudly cleaning out his wardrobe of the acolyte silver stripes and replacing his uniforms with the ones that bore the ranger green. He put on one of those after a quick shower, then stopped by the cafeteria for all of two minutes to grab a quick bite and a couple of sugar sticks to take with him as he headed for the meeting he’d been anticipating.

His dead legs didn’t bother him, aching from a very long run that he’d probably pushed a little too far. He had a habit of doing that, but it was the only way he learned his current limits. He’d adjust now that he had data to work with and find a way to approach higher level workouts without tanking, as he always did. Right now though his future as an Archon was about to be determined in a big way, and he wasn’t the only one. Several others that had also just made ranger were gathering here as well, and when he walked into the amphitheater he saw several dozen of them already sitting in the seats while a few people were waiting up on the stage.

Po took a seat and chewed on his last sugar stick, feeling his adrenaline spiking more than it did in combat. Ever since becoming an Archon he’d been working out of this facility on Mars, as a base at least. He’d had some field assignments, including one all the way down in Gamma Region, but he’d always cycled back here same as the other adepts and acolytes did, for this was Clan Null’s headquarters…with the name being a joke more than anything, but the trailblazers seemed to like doing that sort of thing with labeling.

All adepts and acolytes belonged to the Nulls, with had their headquarters here on Mars and a super-sized sanctum to accommodate them all. A good portion of those Archons were here in training and participating in the internal trials…which were beyond intense, far more so than anything he’d gone through in basic as a trainee. He knew the more advanced Archon trials were mind boggling, but to date he hadn’t been able to participate and get his butt kicked in any of them given the fact that he wasn’t part of a Clan yet.

Today that would change, for him and the other new rangers still coming into the chamber. While a Clan placement wasn’t permanent most Archons never switched teams, unless there was a good reason to do so. Po had heard that there was a fair amount of rangers moving from one Clan to another, but with strikers and on up they were pretty much set. Each Clan had taken a different development route, had different membership standards and focuses, and was in itself unique…with the competition between them being fierce.

“That looks like all of you,” Terry-201118 said as the last person walked in. The Archon mage remotely closed the door and walked out from behind the control pedestal, looking at all of the new rangers from the edge of the stage. “You know why you’re here. Time to choose a Clan and transition to the next stage. The kid gloves are coming off and your inclusion in the Nulls is now over. If on the odd chance that someone does not wish to join a Clan, or are unable to do so, the training facility on Earth for neutrals will become your new home. This facility no longer is. This is your second graduation, and now it’s time to step up and play with the big dogs.”

The mage gestured and another person on stage, a handler of some sort, took up position behind the pedestal and began operating the amphitheater’s controls. All 100 symbols of the various Clans appeared in hologram behind Terry and moved out to both sides, eventually ringing the circular chamber up near the ceiling and enlarging until they created a halo that crowned the entire room.

“Membership requirements vary for each Clan, and on the information before you, you will see those which are open to you joining them at your current skill levels. Some look for overall marks, others want specialists,” he said as an individual holographic panel lit up in front of Po, as well as every other person in the chamber. It had his data on it, and he wondered how they knew what seat he was sitting in…then again, there weren’t that many of them here, so maybe the assistant just matched up faces.

“On occasion a Clan will make a specific bid for an individual they feel is noteworthy. If they want you badly enough they’ll leave a message, otherwise they’re looking for recruits that meet their entry standards…and be aware, you have to maintain those standards to stay in the Clan. Keep that in mind when you’re choosing, for you don’t want to join one then wash out within the year. Your schedules are going to alter, so if you’re locked into a specific training pattern you might be forced to change it, and that could create a plateau or even a backslide until you adjust.”

“The Clans are a pressure cooker for all their personnel, from Archons down to techs. You’ve got to keep up with whatever training pace they want, and most of you will be in over your heads from day one. Make sure the Clan is a good fit for you, because you don’t want to waste months or years on a bad match. Those of you with options, study them carefully, those of you with few…be glad there’s an opening,” he said with a bit of sarcasm.

Po looked at his data even as he listened, finding that out of the standards for all the Clans he didn’t qualify for most of them. His ranger ranking wasn’t the issue. No Clan put a higher mark than Ranger 1 as a requirement for entry, because this was the point when Archons were meant to join Clans, but what they were looking at was subcategory scores, rates of advancement, etc. Po was a bit slow with regards to leveling up, at least compared to the average, and it looked like that disqualified him from some 13 Clans.

He adjusted the hologram again, touching the little energy spheres that doubled as buttons below the main screen to sift through the data. His commando scores were his lowest of the 5 divisions, meaning they were currently at Ranger 1. That eliminated him from some 39 Clans.

The same came from swimming scores, aerial, naval, and mechs. Clans that were looking for specialists didn’t want him, meaning he only had generic options available to him. That left him with 23 options to choose from, and he looked through them closely.

“Take your time and think this through, but you do have to choose now if you want to head out immediately. When you leave this room you either leave for your new Clan indoctrination center or you head to Earth and figure things out in the neutrals sanctum. I’d recommend you don’t go that route unless you have a good reason to. If you’re worrying about your decision and think you need a lot more time to consider it…well, you don’t. This isn’t overly complicated, it just needs some serious thought, and an hour or so here is more than enough. Look through your options and make your choice. If you have any questions or concerns, that’s what I’m here for…in addition to bidding you farewell.”

When the leader of Clan Null stopped speaking Po took that as a sign to put his full attention on his choices. None of the Clans had sent him a personal message, which was understandable. None of his scores stood out above the rest. He was a ‘grinder,’ which meant an Archon that often had to try something multiple times before they accomplished it. He’d get knocked down then get back up again, working his way through challenges and training through an undeniable will rather than an aptitude for certain skills.

Of the 23 Clans that he could choose to join, only 4 of them were focused on balance. The others all had specialties, some more than one, but allowed bottom of the barrel types like him to join and try to carve out a niche for themselves in their primary training programs or to fill out their secondaries. The part of Po that craved challenges wanted him to dive head first into one of those ultra intense training programs and fight his way into a position of prominence…which for a ranger meant just keeping his head above water and being one of the guys.

Clan Sephiroth, headed by trailblazer Logan-036, was a Clan that prided itself on its Commando training, especially its swords subcategory. But unlike Clan Saber, which Po did not qualify for, all he needed to join their program was the base Ranger 1 prerequisite, nothing more. He knew the training would be insane, but the Sephiroths were ‘grinder friendly’ whereas the Sabers were not…at least not in their Commando division.

All Archons trained in all 5 areas, but each Clan apparently had training programs specifically designed to press certain skills. He assumed the other skills would be maintained and advanced in his spare time, how much he would get he didn’t know. For Clan Sephiroth it was stated that for their Commando specialty training there would be a 12 year focus on that discipline at the outset, meaning that Po’s skills, if he managed to keep up, would not progress in the other 4 disciplines much at all, but would shoot up his Commando ranking, in theory.

He didn’t like that. Grinder as he was, he wanted to keep leveling up all areas simultaneously and not get any weak spots that would hold his overall Archon ranking back. Out of the 23 Clans there were only 13 that allowed for balanced slots, but 11 of them required more than just Ranger 1 average. His 5 division scores were M3, C1, A2, S1, N3…with the ‘S’ referring to aquatics rather than using another ‘A’ that would make it confusing.

He’d been looking at these base numbers all of his Archon life, and these stats indicated that he was a balanced Archon. Some of the rangers around him in the room he recognized, some he didn’t, but one in particular sitting two rows down and one bank to the right he knew had an A18 rating. He was a damn good pilot, but one of his other scores had to be level 1 since Archon rankings were determined by your weakest division rather than your strongest or average.

But the Clans were looking at your average with regards to balanced training programs. His was an even 2.0 and most of them wanted at least a 3.5 for entry. A couple were at 2.5, with only two that allowed the bottom of the barrel entries. Those were Clan Westley and Clan Noisy Cricket. Clan Westley was notorious for taking any Archons, no matter what their skill levels, and training them up into higher ranks. Their upper tier wasn’t as good, but their lower tier was the top rated within all the Clans and it was rumored that once their ‘special projects’ put in enough centuries of training that they’d have one of the deepest Clans skill wise, for it didn’t matter how long it took you to attain the skills, and a Mage 1 was a Mage 1 no matter if they were 500 years old or 1000.

Clan Noisy Cricket had a naval focus, but had allowed for bottom of the barrel entry as well. Four Clans that focused on balanced approaches wouldn’t take Po in that regard, but they would take him in either a naval or mech training program. It seemed that while they wanted balance, it didn’t require it in all their individuals, but rather the Clan overall.

Po’s face scrunched up with debate. He could enter one of the balanced Clans and focus on his Mech or Naval skills and then hope to branch out into a fully balanced training program later when his skills met their minimum requirements. He wasn’t sure how long their base training was…so he pulled it up and frowned. The shortest of them was 8 years.

He didn’t like that. Ever since he’d entered basic training he’d been wanting to keep all his skills close to one another, and while he could veer away from that philosophy, even temporarily, he didn’t feel like doing it. That meant he had two options…unless he wanted to go neutral.

“A question,” he said aloud when someone else had finished asking theirs. “If we go neutral, are these the same requirements for entry at a later date or specifically for those of us coming out of the Nulls?”

“There are three Clans that operate with Null-only requirements. All the rest don’t care where you are in your progression.”

“So if my scores aren’t high enough for a Clan I want to go into, I can go neutral and train until I raise them up enough?”

“Correct…but your training would be mostly on your own. There are advisors in the neutral sanctum to help you, but there is no regimented programs like you’re accustomed to. Definitely nothing like what the Clans have.”

Po nodded and returned his gaze to his options. Whatever Clan he went with he was going to stick to. He didn’t like the idea of switching around. If there was a reason for it, sure, but otherwise he was going to stay loyal to whomever took him in and he didn’t want to be hasty about this. Maybe going neutral was the best option for a grinder like him?

But then there was Clan Westley who specialized in bringing the slower Archons along faster, or at least as fast, as others. While they weren’t passing up on standout individuals, they were focused on taking lower end Archons and turning them into an asset for the Clan. It was a bit of a knock reputation wise, and he really wished one of the balanced Clans would take his 2.0 average, but his progression had been too slow and steady for them. In fact, he was too balanced for them. They expected more variation, for a purely balanced Archon would have had a rating of 1.0 which made no sense whatsoever.

“Remember,” Terry said, looking directly at Po, “this is a competition, for you to join a Clan as well as for the Clans measuring against each other. Pride is on the line, as well as resources for some of the larger trials. Find the niche you want, then be prepared to work your ass off for it like you’ve never done before. If you wash out of a Clan, and it does happen, you can take another slot in another Clan that you qualify for or you can go neutral. This is not easy street here. You’re going to have to crawl and claw to maintain your placement until you get your levels up considerably higher. Some of you won’t stabilize in a Clan for 50 years. Metal Gear Commando indoctrination typically runs that long.”

Po heard someone whistle, and Terry nodded. “Choose wisely, and make sure it’s a choice you can live with, succeed or fail. You know by now that Archons don’t make it the first time at everything, and if anyone has training scores to the contrary please point them out, for not even the trailblazers have that clean of a record. When you take on hard challenges you’re going to fail, then learn from the experience. Do you want to go that route or choose a lesser challenge that you can probably succeed at and cement your place within a Clan? It’s up to you, and neither is the preferred way. How you progress in your training is a personal choice and it needs to fit you.”

That stuck with Po, and as he looked at his two primary choices he realized he didn’t want to dive into a huge challenge and struggle to keep going. He wanted to keep grinding his way up the ranks as he’d been doing, and Clan Westley’s basic program was three times as long and rumored to be considerably difficult…but it was a way to really get a second chance for the ‘slackers’ within the Archons, though that term didn’t really apply to any of them.

Po wasn’t in a hurry to advance, he just wanted to keep improving and help out Star Force when and where he could. He wanted to be an Archon, not always racing to catch up or outdo others. The higher the ranking one achieved, the less one would stay with their basic training peers. Archons advanced at different rates, some trained while others did field work. Everything got complicated and divergent, with the only important thing being what path would Po walk and how would he go about doing it.

If this was going to be his way, then he’d walk in the door with the lowest threshold to maintain his balanced training…and that meant Clan Noisy Cricket. He wasn’t going to be a star recruit or on a primary training program, but he would work his ass off to earn his Clan appointment and devote his loyalty to them. Being an anonymous Archon amongst all the others and just going about and doing his thing on his timetable appealed to Po, and the more he thought about it the more he realized this was the choice for him.

He thought it through a couple extra times to make sure, then he selected the training slot he qualified for within the Noisy Crickets and locked in his selection. His display accepted the anointment with a symbol of a tiny pistol emblazoned over a silhouette of a cricket in the background and spun it in place for several seconds, with a text prompt appearing below it that told him to report to hangar bay 8 in 2 hours and 43 minutes with his duffle of personal belongings packed and ready to head to another star system.

Po stood up, nodded to Archon Terry, and took his leave as several other rangers had already done. Apparently there was no additional fanfare, and he appreciated that. This was all business, and the importance of the moment wasn’t lost on Po. He was transitioning into a whole new realm within Star Force and he was eager to get at it, with the quick departure being a good thing. He didn’t want to linger here any longer now that he had a course charted for him. He wanted to get to the Fiora System and Clan Noisy Cricket’s capitol of Blade Waltz that it shared with six other Clans, not knowing exactly what awaited him but eager to find out.

7

August 1, 3106

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

A Falcon-class dropship flew across the gap between the troop jumpship that had brought it here along with another contingent of reinforcements, coming in to a captured hangar bay on the lizard ring that Star Force had been making use of for more than a year now. So far they’d managed to take control of a little less than a third of the massive shipyard that encircled the entire planet, including seizing and blocking off 139 of the 487 columns that connected down to the surface.

Those were no longer sending troops up to fight them, meaning the controlled areas of the ring were safely Star Force territory now, and with a sizeable warfleet outside guarding the ring from naval attack the only way the lizards could hit them was sending ground troops up the remaining columns they controlled, for the ground-based anti-orbital weapons couldn’t reach the ring itself, and to date they hadn’t fired on any of the connecting columns.

That meant the ground war that was grinding on inside the ring would continue, for Star Force wasn’t going to destroy it either, and if the lizards should start shooting out the supporting columns the gravity drives on the ring itself would be more than enough to keep them aloft in its nearly geosynchronous orbit. The lizards apparently understood this to be true as well, for they were continually spamming millions of troops up the columns they controlled and sending them in massive waves against the Star Force lines…both of them, for the controlled segment had two ends that were miles wide and high, making for ample locations to hit and get hit at.

Those two front ‘lines’ were constantly moving forward with hunter teams moving out beyond them and taking down lizards, then the fortified positions would surge forward here and there, sometimes no more than a few dozen meters, and resettle to survive the next surge of troops. As it was, clearing out the dead lizard bodies was becoming a chore, with Star Force having brought in incinerator factories and set them up inside the ring in order to dispose of them all…with Archons checking to make sure the bodies were actually dead before they got reduced to ash.

It was necessary to do that in order to keep the corridors and chambers mostly clear, for the lizards kept pouring reinforcements at them in suicidal fashion, hoping to wear them down or, perhaps, just to stall their advance. Regardless, Star Force had a huge ground war on its hands that was painstakingly making progress. More troops were being brought in from the ADZ, some to replace others rotating out, but a lot were here to increase the number of combat troops to facilitate a quicker rate of progress.

Along with those Regulars came this one dropship carrying a special assault team. When it landed on the hangar deck there was already a circus of activity, with Bsidd unloading by the hundreds and filing off to receive orders and placements without everyone bunching up into a chaotic crowd. Star Force had handlers there to direct everyone and keep the hangar deck orderly and processing quickly, with unloaded dropships heading back out to return to the jumpship and pick up more troops and the supplies necessary to sustain them within the ring.

When that dropship opened up, a murmur spread amongst the deck staff as well as the Bsidd troops. Everyone nearby paused what they were doing and looked as a group walked out, packed together tightly in a column two wide but with a casual gait that wasn’t symmetrical. They were not Bsidd, but rather Humans…the giant variety. They were Knights, all of them, but they weren’t wearing their traditional white armor. These were wearing black with gold trim, save for one in the front pair leading the others. He wore all black armor.

“Damn,” one of the Commandoes on the deck whispered. “Those are all Arc Knights.”

“I’ve never seen them together before. Always alone working with other troops.”

“They’re not all Arc Knights,” an Archon striker said, stepping up behind them as they watched the group go where they pleased, bypassing all the handlers and heading straight to an individual waiting for them at a side door. It was another Archon, this one wearing golden armor, and her presence alone caused another stir, for while there were many titans on the ring they were hardly ever seen.

“Trailblazer Megan,” one of the Commandoes said, seeing her ID pop up on his helmet’s HUD.

“That’s not who I meant. Do you see the one Knight that doesn’t have gold trim?” he asked quickly before the group left the hangar entirely.

“In the front?”

“Yes. He isn’t an Arc Knight. He’s the Black Knight.”

“What’s that?”

“A legend to all Archons. He was the first Knight, from all the way back when Star Force began, and he tormented the trailblazers and second generation Archons in their basic training. He beat the crap out of them, just like his replacement did to me. We all hated and feared the Black Knight, and that one, the original one, is the only Knight permitted to wear the all black armor. His name is Vermaire, and he trains the Arc Knights personally.”

“Shit. I’d never heard any of that.”

“Are they here to train then?” another Commando asked aghast.

“No,” the striker said with a rueful smile concealed beneath his helmet. “I have a feeling the trailblazers want this ring captured more quickly, hence all the reinforcements…and those you just saw are the big guns they’re bringing in.”

“Damn,” the Commando said again as the last one of the Arc Knights disappeared from view as they left the hangar.

“You have no idea,” the striker promised as the normal flow of offloading resumed.

On the opposite end of the Star Force zone Paul and Riona were beyond the front lines, pressed deep into lizard territory and finding their hands full. They’d stumbled into one of the massive staging areas and decided to dive in head first, using a combination of battlemeld abilities, Jumat, and their death sabers to chew enough of a hole to stand in as more and more lizards pushed themselves into the chamber in an attempt to overwhelm them with bodies, even if they couldn’t shoot them, with the lizards grabbing for their arms and legs in an attempt to slow them down with no regard for the lethality of the glowing white blades.

Linked in battlemeld as the two titans were they didn’t need to worry about hitting each other with the death sabers, which would kill their shield strength with a single hit. The weapons held their ‘blades’ by continually recharging that area with additional energy. As much bled off as necessary to cut through a tiny sliver of a target, so it appeared that the blades were solid so long as the substance wasn’t too tough. Hit a shield and all that energy would release into it if needed, and either it or the blade would go down.

If that happened it would take a few seconds for the blade to regenerate, pulling extra power from the pack they wore on their backs, but that much energy delivered into their shields would bite a chunk out of them for sure, and they were getting nicked down enough as it was with numerous phaser blasts they couldn’t avoid. The entire crowd of lizards had weapons, and they didn’t seem to care if they shot each other with them so long as they ended up doing damage to the Archons.

There were tens of thousands in this chamber, originally built to construct ribs for jumpships and necessarily huge in design. That’s why it was being used as a primary staging ground from which teams were being dispatched at a nearly constant rate to probe the front lines until they thought they found a weak point, after which many more would be sent in like a firehose spewing infantry in an attempt to put out the fire that was the invading Star Force troops.

Paul and Riona were in over their head, but they knew they could work their way out of it. In the meantime they would be killing far more here than they would hunting down loose groupings elsewhere and killing the most possible was the goal, with both of them using their battlemeld link to remind themselves of their purpose here and not get overloaded with the gore.

And it was working, for Riona stood out to Paul like a beacon of civilization amongst the lizard hoards, and vice versa. Not only were they more powerful working together, but they kept each other sane as they became the slayers that they needed to be in order to take some of the burden off the Regulars and keep them from dying from these never ending infantry waves.

Just then Riona spotted a det pack approaching, with Paul switching off his death sabers as he stepped over to her and wrapped her up in a hug, layering his bioshields around her as she telekinetically picked up the lizard and threw it back through the air over the others. Realizing what was happening in an instant, the lizard detonated itself after only getting a few meters away.

The blast killed hundreds of lizards around the detonation point and knocked both Paul and Riona away, with the two tumbling along with the dead bodies…but they rolled out of it and split again, alive and still with some mechanical shields remaining thanks to their linked bioshields taking most of the hit.

With a whole area of lizards now dead and lying on the ground, those behind them suddenly had open lines of fire and dozens of phaser blasts lit up the area. The two Archons took hits, but jumped up high into the air and let the blasts track underneath them, some taking out friendly targets before they landed again and began dashing towards one side of the blast area, getting tripped up a bit by all the bodies.

Riona’s shields went down before they made the edge, with Paul telekinetically picking her up and throwing her like a ball into the lizards ahead. Her armored body hit them and knocked more than 20 over as the others focused their phaser shots on him until he slipped in amongst the hoard and got back to cutting them up at point blank range, once again with the nearest lizards blocking the firing lines of the others in the staging area.

And the process repeated. Riona got to her feet and reengaged her blades with a bit of bioshield covering her armor to give her primary shields a chance to recharge. She took a few melting hits anyway, but it was going to take an awful lot to get through the Archon battle plates, which over the years had gotten strong and stronger. Had the lizards been using plasma she could have attacked them with no shields at all and gotten about the same result, but even with their upgraded rifles they weren’t going to get through to her flesh without them standing and pounding on her for several minutes.

Neither Archon was going to give them that opportunity for they were constantly on the move, even if it only be a few steps here and there. They fought so closely together at some points that it looked like they were going to hit each other, but battlemeld meant they were of one mind and essentially one body, knowing where the other’s limbs were and where they were going at all times, allowing them to fight at an insanely efficient level in close quarters.

The lizards that were diving at their legs were a real nuisance though, with Paul having to kick or peel off several multiple times. One dove down and wrapped up his left leg now and he sliced it in half with his left blade. It squealed in pain, but the arms didn’t release for a second or two, allowing another to jump in in its place with similar results.

They did slow him down enough that three others jumped towards his head, but a telekinetic block stopped them dead in the air, acting like little blast shields floating around him, then he summoned a Jumat blast in his right arm and held it up, blasting them all back and into the others as he kicked the upper torso of a lizard off his right leg.

Piece by piece the master and apprentice killed the lizards, leaving such a body count behind that the incoming reinforcements were having a hard time reaching them over the mounds that were building. Every now and then a det pack would go off changing the landscape, but the sea of blood always flowed back in. Paul and Riona were walking in it with every step, now half an inch deep and being added to by the corpse piles that the living lizards were scrambling over to get to the Archons.

It was mindless killing, but Paul would rather take it on himself to do rather than leave it to the Regulars who might get injured or killed in the process. The more he fought these battles the more he hated the lizards. Their civilization was impressive in some ways, but he had long lost any appreciation for them in that regard. They were barbarians, pure and simple, and didn’t give a damn about the lives being lost. Their people were expendable, and apparently even these infantry thought so. There wasn’t a discord amongst the grunts and the leaders, they were all on the same suicidal page.

After hours of fighting in that chamber something changed…the wall of lizards coming at them ended, with only a few stragglers left. Those stupidly still came at them, having no chance at all of succeeding but apparently wanting to go down fighting. The Archons obliged and cut them down quickly, then stood still breathing heavily as they searched with their eyes and minds for more targets.

There were none. The entire chamber was empty of the living save for a few nearby on the ground that would exit that category soon. Most of the blows the death sabers landed were spot on, but occasionally they only maimed a target until they bled out. Paul would have finished them off sooner than that, but both he and Riona, having been battlemeld linked for hours, just stood there looking at the literal hills of chopped up bodies surrounding them and stretching across the entire length of the chamber.

They were now standing in several inches of blood, splashing around like water with severed arms and legs and heads of lizards scattered around. Now that their minds were coming out of threat aversion mode both of them were stunned at the sight of it all. It made them both sick to look at, but they were so numbed up by now that they avoided puking in their helmets. Focusing so that didn’t happen as their adrenaline began to taper off, they both just stood still and looked around, feeling each other and helping one another to snap out of the funk they were in.

After more than a minute Paul finally shook himself loose of the spectacle and walked over to a few of the lizards that were immobile on the floor but still alive. He mentally linked to them and numbed out their pain, then put a few final slashes through their necks and saved them the final agonizing minutes. Riona did likewise with a few others, then their Ikrid radar was clear as far out as they could stretch it. They were totally alone behind enemy lines because…there was no one left to kill.

They both walked towards one another, flicking aside a few corpse pieces so they had somewhere flat to stand, then they both retracted their helmets. The stench was bad and would only get worse in the days to come but they didn’t hide from it. They leaned on each other in a loose hug and touched their foreheads together. No tears came, but both were emotionally spent. With the area clear of threats they took the moment to collect themselves rather than numbing it out. Better to do it here and now than wait until they were back, because they could not let themselves become jaded.

Other elite Archons were now pairing up in a similar manner to help them handle the load, staying linked to one another during the fighting for both combat and emotional support. Paul and Riona had gone on many of these missions now, usually at least one every two or three days, but none had been as gruesome as this one. Everything around them, every cut in those bodies had been their doing. They’d created all this, and damn the lizards for forcing them to do it.

The two Archons took several minutes, taking solace within each other’s minds and focusing on the skin to skin touch to override the oppression of everything around them and put it into context. Once they had themselves grounded again and their heartbeats and breathing had returned to normal they broke contact and their helmets reformed around their heads…then they began hiking across the mounds of dead and through the shallow lake of blood until they got to and had to clear away more bodies from an exit.

After that they left the gore behind in lizard territory, knowing that they’d have to get a cleaning crew on it as soon as their lines pressed this far forward, because the lizards didn’t bother cleaning up their dead. Paul and Riona made sure to not pass back by this way again until it was cleaned up. They’d had to create it in the first place, and now that they were turning their backs on that travesty they weren’t going to lay eyes on it again, for sanity sake.

8

October 12, 3106

Solar System

Earth

Wilson walked up the circular stairway into Davis’s office, finding him in the middle of a holocom with a Hycre so he turned the corner on the railing and headed for the empty opposite side of the office. Never in his memory had Davis put anything here, leaving it open space with only the staircase and his desk breaking up the observation platform that he ran Star Force out of. Wilson headed over to the curved window opposite the Director and looked out at the not so busy cityscape below.

There was a fair amount of air traffic, but not nearly as much as there had been back in the day when Atlantis was the primary spaceport on the planet. Now it was hallowed ground with the busy commerce centers located elsewhere, though a stream of dropships and assorted craft were coming and going nonstop to service the capitol within the capitol. This had always been the nerve center of the empire, but now it lacked the added energy of a tourist resort.

Wilson waited patiently until the conversation ended and the hologram disappeared before he left his vantage point and headed back over to Davis’s desk.

“I didn’t realize there were any Hycre in the system.”

“There’s a single jumpship here on special permission. There are some future plans of theirs that they needed to discuss with me in person.”

“Anything I need to know about?”

“Mostly economic. Now that their war with the lizards is all but at an end they’re retooling and want a bigger role in the Star Force economy.”

“Last I checked the war was far from over.”

“For them it is. Their systems are secure and while they’re still patrolling and intercepting an occasional ship, they’re not actively hunting or attacking lizard worlds as their border gets pushed further away. They don’t have the weaponry for it anyway, and we’re not upgrading them again.”

“Did they ask?”

“No. They helped us long ago, we’ve repaid the favor. They’re moving forward with their own agenda now that they see we’ve got the lizards beat and that they can’t really contribute much to that going forward. The H’kar are in a different position, with their original territory still in lizard hands, but the climate within the ADZ has been developing into one of apathy regarding the lizard threat now that it’s away from our borders. We’re the ones that are doing the fighting, so everyone else is doing other stuff.”

“Begging for some of that prime lizard territory?”

“The Hycre…no. They can’t really use it anyway, and we’re not keeping too strict a hold on the gas giants. They are negotiating deals for some of the prime ones, but overall their proposals are more goods oriented. They want to integrate further with Star Force without actually joining and we’re hammering out the details. They’ll be here for another week at least and we’re done for the day. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve finished my theoretical retooling.”

Davis’s mood perked up slightly. “And?”

“We have some options.”

“I’ve got time,” Davis said as he sat back down in his chair. “Lay it out for me.”

Wilson sat as well. “As Star Force grows we have an increasingly difficult task of command and control, which we’ve dealt with by developing and maintaining a core group of trustworthy individuals, whether they be Archons, Monarchs, Administrators, etc. Everything functions off of them, and remove that spine and you’d see the empire fall apart. Not immediately, since the factions and systems are redundant and somewhat self-sufficient, but we are the glue that holds it all together and the larger our territory gets the more glue we need.”

“Agreed.”

“The question has been whether that glue needs to be Human. The answer is no. It needs to be Star Force. Already you have a few non-Human Monarchs, so there’s no issue there, but with regards to the Archons it’s not so simple a matter because of their psionics. Ask yourself this though…could you ever see a very skillful Calavari becoming a trailblazer?”

Davis frowned. “We aren’t producing any more trailblazers, Calavari or Human.”

“Kara says otherwise. Special circumstances elevated her into their ranks, more or less. Assume something drastic happened and it involved a Calavari.”

“They would tell me whether or not they wanted him. I wouldn’t make that decision.”

“What would they judge him by?”

“Skill, obviously. Trustworthiness. Experience would also be a factor, I imagine.”

“You’re missing one.”

Davis raised an eyebrow.

“Brotherhood. That’s what bonds them together more than anything else. The things you mention are prerequisites, but it’s the bond they have that’s the real glue with them and allows them to function without a chain of command. The rest of the empire has a structure, but they don’t. We don’t. You run things because you’re best at it, I’m best at training, but we never get into a bickerment over who gives orders.”

“Bickerment?”

Wilson smiled. “A term I coined long ago. There’s a difference between arguing and bickering.”

“So there is. Bickerment then. I’ll add that to my vocabulary list.”

“You and I are a team, without any constraints whatsoever. Originally I was your employee, but that didn’t last long.”

“You’re saying we don’t dare mess with that core bond?”

“We’re also all Human, and that factors in as well. We also all went through the process of building Star Force…and therein lies the key. We are Star Force, and we’re not going to be replaced. We can add a few worthy individuals to our ranks, but there’s no way anyone else has claim to our personal club. We built it, we earned it, and we’re the gatekeepers. Humans aren’t the gatekeepers, we are, and that’s a distinction that needs to be highlighted.”

“Noted.”

“So the real question becomes the lower elite ranks. You’ve already established protocol for the Monarchs…which is?”

“I hand pick them all, mostly from existing Administrators, though a few from other placements.”

“All experienced?”

“To a degree, yes.”

“That’s not how we choose Archons. We take them fresh off a testing package.”

Davis nodded. “Should that change?”

Wilson shook his head. “No, not at all. The process is very refined now. No need to tamper with it…for Humans anyway.”

“If you’re going where I think you’re going with this, you don’t want non-Humans in the Archon basic training?”

“I don’t want them in Archon training at all.”

“That’s a much simpler thing to say, so I assume there is a caveat?”

“Brotherhood develops in many ways. To make it the most potent you have to all be the same. Same race, same skills, same challenges. No one without the full psionic package can be Archons. We can etch that in stone right now.”

“Consider it etched then. What else?”

“The Protovic are close to Human physiology, no one else is. A few are similar, but the only real Archon question is them. If we give them, one day, full psionics, could they also be Archons?”

“I’m guessing no, but I’d like to hear your reasons for it.”

“For one they’re more rigid, due to their exoskeleton, and don’t have the flexibility range. That and other small differences are present, and aside from physically changing them into Human there’s no point in trying to make them Human. Archons are Human, pure and simple. That doesn’t mean the Protovic can’t be valuable to the empire, but they’re not Archons.”

“Which brings us back to your trailblazer question.”

“If they accepted a Protovic into their midst, how would they do it? I used Calavari because it’s a more drastic example, but either will suffice.”

“Either way they’d have to be able to hold their ground in a fight,” Davis said, thinking hard. “Strategic skills…heavy dose of sarcasm.”

“Would they expect them to match them exactly?”

“I think Paul would say that Grand Admiral Thrawn answers that question.”

Wilson laughed. “I was considering using that example. Odd how they got both of us to literally memorize those bits of fiction.”

“They’re useful metaphors,” Davis agreed. “Thrawn wasn’t Human.”

“No, and he had a slightly different way of commanding, but he still got the job done. I think that’s the bottom line.”

“So if an individual can meet Archon standards, however they get around to it…”

Wilson shook his head firmly. “No.”

“No?”

“We’re not going to hold back individuals trying to fit them into Human standards. We have some very good Calavari that have been serving as Commandos in the Human Mainline armies for centuries. They’re operating off of Human standards and ranked lower than their combat potential because they fight in different ways. At the time this wasn’t a problem because all of Mainline was Human. Now we have Mainline factions of Calavari, Bsidd, etc and there’s no need to integrate units except where advantageous. Those units that are hybrids function far better because each piece is suited to its role rather than being crunched down into a one form fits all.”

“How does this affect the Archons?”

“It’s simple. We allow them to have sidekicks.”

Davis looked at Wilson for a few seconds as he tried to wrap his head around that idea. “What exactly are you inferring?”

“If we create psionics, we create them specifically for the races and not to match what Humans have. They can become equals on the battlefield, in theory, doing it their own way. They won’t be Archons, won’t be part of that core group, from the beginning…but they could be adopted into it later as sidekicks.”

“Define ‘sidekick’ then.”

“Think of Archons like brothers and sisters, with sidekicks being cousins.”

“Ah,” Davis said, almost in a sigh, as it finally clicked. “A strong bond but not quite what exists between Archons. Yet battlefield comradery and the potential to advance up to our level if they proved themselves worthy.”

“You’re already doing that with the Monarchs.”

“Their field involves giving orders, which can be accomplished by any race. Physical combat is far different.”

“And I’ve already covered that, in theory,” Wilson said as he fished a data chip out of his pocket and tossed it to Davis. “My ideas of how to upgrade all the races we have someday. Not on the whole, but for select individuals. There won’t be a training program like the Archons, it’ll work more like the Arc Commandoes in that select individuals will be chosen based on experience and merit. They’ll work with the Archons and operate within that chain of command. Each will exist as part of Clan and organize in that fashion, with their skills being utilized for what they can and can’t do rather than trying to make them conform to Archon standards…which I’ll remind you, are designed to master all 5 divisions.”

“I don’t think we really master aquatics,” Davis pointed out, “but we’re at least average compared to the Elarioni.”

“We can do it all, and so can the Protovic. Not as well, but they can. Most of the other races are more slanted towards specialties. Specialists can’t be Archons. Archons have to do it all.”

“Sidekicks can be specialists?”

“Yes, and depending on how they’re psionically upgraded that may change in certain areas.”

“And the current blue Protovic?”

“You mean the new blue or the old blue?”

“New blue.”

“Theirs is a racial program, which seems to be working out well so far. We’ll have to wait and see what happens when they get some depth. I don’t think we need to mess with their abilities anytime soon. Leave them alone, with maybe a few bits of tinkering down the road. Let them be what they can be and forget about being Archons. If they have the merit to lead the empire, it’ll be as Protovic.”

“They’re not getting my job,” Davis scoffed.

“Nor should they. My point is Archons are Human for numerous reasons, and not just psionics. True equality comes on the battlefield, whether it be combat or economic, and not in the route you take to get there.”

“We always have been fond of doing what works. This would be no different.”

“It’s going to take a lot of trial and error to get the other races pegged down, even without giving them psionics. I haven’t trained them like Archons, and I’ll need to get to know how their bodies and psyches work better before I try to develop a really deep elite program for them. Their current training programs are solid, don’t get me wrong, but they’re not built for someone meant to hold so much responsibility, let alone problem solving, like the Archons are. I’ve got a lot of work to do if you want to head down this road, and it’ll change every time we can add a psionic or other ability.”

“Other ability?”

“We kind of use the word ‘psionic’ to refer to superpowers…and even that isn’t a strict definition.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Getting some of the air breathing aquatics races liquid breathing upgrades would be one example.”

Davis paused for a moment.

“I don’t think we can do that with our bodies though,” Wilson added. “Too much tissue change.”

“I wonder. The V’kit’no’sat didn’t include that in our genome or theirs, and I wonder if that’s because the backup oxygen is for more than just being under water.”

“They didn’t use Zen’zat for underwater operations anyway.”

“Not that we know of, but their armor still had an aquatics module. So it’s possible they were used in that sense on occasion.”

“I’ve never seen any files detailing that.”

“Neither have I. We’re too slow in the water compared to the swimmers to be worth deploying save for emergency situations. Unaugmented anyway,” Davis said as he slipped the datachip into a slot on his desk and pulled up the reports Wilson had compiled for him, seeing that, as usual, Star Force’s head trainer had been excessively thorough. “Who do you want to start with?”

“I’m assuming we’re nowhere near developing any custom psionics?”

“The timetable on that has gotten considerably hazy, but assume no for the foreseeable future.”

“Then I want 100 Calavari here, on Earth, in Atlantis so I can personally develop this program. We’ll need some considerable remodeling first, though.”

Davis nodded. “You still don’t trust the Archon trainees to anyone else?”

“I want to be able to troubleshoot if needed, but most of the duties can be handled by others. That and I want to be the face they know from the outset. I won’t lose touch completely, but I can free up a lot of spare time if needed for this.”

“How do you plan on choosing the candidates?”

“These aren’t candidates. This is an advanced training group, pure and simple. I need to learn the Calavari better before I design the real one. I just need experienced, intuitive individuals that I can press and study. I need to know how they think and respond under pressure, and to do that I need to poke and prod them in very specific ways.”

“Will a seafloor expansion suffice? We’re kind of lacking in internal space as it is.”

“So long as I don’t have to hop on a dropship to move from one group to another.”

“I’ll have them build you a private transit system to an adjacent facility. We have several nearby that can be repurposed easily and they’ll function as part of the city if the link is fast enough, which it will be.”

“Adequate. How soon can I get my experiments?”

Davis bit his lip. “I can rush the conversion inside of a year. Finding and recalling the volunteers might take longer. Do you want to handle that as well or should I just ask the Archons to do it?”

“If this were the actual first class I’d do it, but since I’m not sure what to look for in Calavari they’d probably be better judges. Just ask the ones that have worked with them extensively. The others probably know less than I do about them at this point.”

“Done deal.”

Wilson nodded. “I don’t know how long this will actually take.”

“No rush. No rush at all. Just another puzzle piece we need to get in motion.”

“We have a lot of those, don’t we?”

“The bigger the empire, the more pieces.”

“About that…I have another request. A side project that’s long overdue.”

“Yes?”

“I need to run the Archons through psionic armor challenges. For that I’ll need an army trained to use them…which I’ll have to develop if no one else gets around to it. It’s been on the Archons’ to-do list for some time, but they’ve never implemented it as far as I know.”

“Gun shy?”

“Might be. Either way, it’s better something that I handle than them. Same reason they can’t create their own challenges…at least not ones as good as I can. You can’t think like yourself and your enemy at the same time.”

“Terrorize them as you like.”

“That’ll actually be a bigger logistical project than the Calavari.”

“Recruit what personnel and resources that you need…although I would make one recommendation.”

“Which is?”

“Involve Vermaire. From an Archon’s point of view, nothing is more intimidating than a Black Knight immune to your powers, and Vermaire knows the trailblazers well enough to figure out how to hurt them.”

“Vermaire isn’t here.”

“He’s not?” Davis said, raising an eyebrow.

“They came and got him not long ago. Said they needed him and his best Arc Knights on the front.”

“I didn’t realize that. He rarely leaves Earth.”

“They asked and he went. I don’t know much more than that.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“To the core world that the 2s are assaulting.”

9

January 6, 3108

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

“Are we sure about this?” Riona asked, looking down the narrow chasm that was the innards of one of the connecting columns that ran from the shipyard ring down to the planet’s surface. It was pitch black save for the bit of light spilling in from the wall panel they’d cut through, because it wasn’t meant to be traveled in. It was null space around the numerous lift shafts with equipment bundles and a very irregular geometry.

“You can stay here if you want,” Paul answered her as the other Archons caught up with them.

“Not what I asked,” she clarified.

“They won’t know we’re coming. The tough part is what happens when we get on the ground.”

“That’s easy,” Ginsi said, nudging past Riona and glancing down the dark shaft. “We kick ass.”

“It’s a one way trip unless we can take down all the anti-orbital batteries within range,” she said, scoffing at the upstart mage who nearly equaled her in Commando skill scores. “And that’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“That’s why we’re going,” Ginsi said, glancing back at the other high level Archons behind them.

“If ego were a weapon you’d be invincible,” Riona said grimly.

Paul snickered at that then glanced over at the dark blue armored mage. “We’re letting you tag along, youngling. Try to keep up and not get killed.”

“Will do, boss,” she said, looking down the chasm again. “Can I go first?”

Paul reached an arm out and lazily threw her back into the group. “No.”

“We go first,” Megan said as she and Jack came to the front.

“Right,” Ginsi said sarcastically, making way for her betters. All of them wore equipment packs of various makes, with only a few Archons equipped with death sabers. The rest had ammunition for convention weapons while others carried specialized gear and supplies. Riona wasn’t wrong about this being a long mission, with some 46 sites that they had to pluck the anti-orbital batteries out of before Star Force could even send a single ship down to the surface…and even if they did managed to get them all, there’d only be a very small column of ‘safe’ airspace to travel through with the curve of the planet blocking the other big guns’ firing lines.

“I’ve got point,” Jack said, stepping off the edge and slowly falling down a few inches in freefall. The ring wasn’t quite in geosync orbit, so there was just a touch of gravitational pull exceeding their lateral velocity, all of which meant there was a very small noticeable gravity effect up this high, though it’d increase the further down the miles of crawlspaces they had to travel…with the only way back up being the lifts that had been shut down and blocked off, unless you wanted to crawl up the walls using the adhesive panels in your armor for 26,000 miles.

“Keep within Ikrid range at all times,” Megan said as she gave Jack a tap on the shoulder and pushed him down a bit quicker. When he dropped below the edge of the floor she knelt down and put herself into a handstand that she walked out over the edge, then used her hands to pull herself down the wall and get some speed going herself.

Paul offered Riona a battlemeld prompt and she accepted it, unnecessary for a mission like this but it was a friendly way of declaring they were going to be sticking together on the way down. The two of them let Megan and Jack get a little bit of a lead, then they both dove head first over the edge, arcing down and towards the far wall where they bounced off it and began ricocheting their way down until they got themselves straightened out.

“After you,” Ginsi said to the other Archons, preferring to stay put and be last car on the train. A line of golden armor passed her by, leaving the only mage to follow in their wake. She was glad they’d included her, especially given that her Commando skills exceeded some of theirs, for she would have been royally pissed if she’d missed this mission.

Three trailblazers, 34 titans, and one mage on a secret mission behind enemy lines facing off with everything the planet could throw at them in a race to get the orbital guns down before the lizards realized they were there or decided to start taking down the support columns to prevent them from doing something like this with the lift systems. It was a ballsy move on their part, and frankly they were going to need her help to pull this off.

Not that she’d be all that helpful given the combined skillset that she was traveling with, but she definitely wasn’t going to fall behind and could contribute to the group enough to warrant her inclusion. Ginsi was just a little surprised the Archons felt the same way.

When the last bit of golden armor disappeared Ginsi sat down on the edge and slid off head first, pulling on the edge to get her some speed as she scanned the darkness ahead with her Pefbar and Ikrid, seeing that the others weren’t wasting any time. She also got an Ikrid ping sent like a chain through the others marking an obstruction ahead. The leaders would pick them out and let everyone else know where to avoid, with Ginsi simply having to stay up and make sure she didn’t hit anything on the way down.

She had a straight line of descent several hundred meters before an outcropping forced a detour of a few meters to the right. Further down there was another few, until they got to a clumping of cables that only had a small pass through. It was wide enough for a tank, but given how large this null space was that was about as thin of a bottleneck as the schematics said there was going to be.

Which was why they were constantly speeding themselves up by grabbing on handholds as they passed and slinging themselves forward. When Ginsi suddenly was falling behind a bit she got a battlemeld prompt from the Archon closest to her and they bonded for a moment, just long enough to extend a Bataf column to her. The energy field linked them like a rope and it pulled her forward with a surge of speed while simultaneously slowing down the titan. Ginsi caught up quickly while he managed to speed himself back up with what she guessed where tugs from others up ahead.

Ginsi used a telekinetic ‘crashbag’ to shove her off one wall and over to another, grabbing a stubby outcropping and using it to swing herself forward a bit faster. She couldn’t get much speed from it now since she was falling quickly, but up ahead she managed to find another bit of terrain in the form of a support strut along the wall and veered over to get her foot on the far side of it and push off, accelerating her a bit further and closer to the 3 Archons ahead of her as one of them shot forward again, with the other two following shortly thereafter.

Another battlemeld request came and she had to take it, getting yanked ahead to even more speed as another diversion order got bounced back from mind to mind and she telekinetically wedged herself off another wall to avoid a cross beam that would have hurt like a mother if she’d hit it, for she guessed they were doing better than 50 miles an hour now and most of that was not due to gravity, making her wonder how the trailblazers were getting the speed necessary to pull the rest of them along.

Maybe the ‘youngling’ comment was well deserved after all.

8 hours later…

Ginsi braked herself against another Bataf conduit from below, counteracting the continual tug of gravity that was trying to speed them up faster than they reasonably could go. There was no air in the null spaces this far above the planet, so that meant there was nothing to slow them down if they didn’t do it themselves and there was only so much speed they could handle. Fortunately they were past the tricky section up top near the shipyard ring, with the connections now being little more than evenly spaced gaps with occasional supports jutting out in their way. Hit one of those and they’d be squashed, armor and all, so the trailblazers were holding back on gaining any more speed as they spotted the obstructions ahead and maneuvered the group around them.

But they couldn’t be using psionics, the support struts were flashing by so fast Ginsi only saw a split second blur on her Pefbar. They had to be using schematics to navigate by and hoping that the lizards were as meticulous with their construction as Star Force was. Miles were whipping by so fast it felt like they weren’t even moving at all. The walls appeared a bit foggy, but other than that they were just smooth obstructions on either side that Ginsi knew she could not touch at any cost. The friction would eat through her armor like a chainsaw and send her bouncing from one wall to the other in a death spiral, and shields wouldn’t do much to delay that death.

Fortunately her psionics operated differently than matter. Her telekinesis was able to give her the ability to push against the moving walls without it dragging her backwards and sending her out of control, which she needed when the Bataf adjustments came, for they always threw off her orientation no matter how precisely aligned she thought she was with those below her.

But everyone in this group was a professional and they worked the quiet danger without incident, flying a predictable pattern around the various lift shaft tubes and avoiding the support struts as they continued to fall miles after miles. The danger was real, but it seemed so quiet and nobody was talking on comms or telepathically…at least not to her. She worried that she might fall asleep and bump a wall, for this was boring as hell once you got past the first hour.

But this was the mission and she was game to see it through no matter how the challenges presented themselves. Focus was something that an Archon was used to maintaining in all variety of situations…and in this one, if you slipped up even once you were probably going to end up dead. And if you went careening into others you’d take them with you.

Which was probably another reason why it was good that she was at the back…from their point of view.

13 hours into their fall and the Ikrid orders came for them to start slowing down, with them nearing the atmosphere and Ginsi knowing that if they began to hit that the turbulence would put them into the walls. Not waiting on the others, Ginsi pushed both arms out to either side and created crashbags off each, touching the walls with her energy fields and trying to force the contact down ahead of her at an angle. She pushed the fields out, forcing herself to go higher with the process and feeling the first tinglings of gravity in half a day, indicating that she was succeeding in bleeding off at least a little speed.

Apparently it wasn’t enough, for she got three different battlemeld prompts from below and accepted them all before she had a chance to crash into anyone. Suddenly she was in a tripod of Bataf links holding her still and slowing her down, leaving her with nothing to do but hold onto the links. They were making it easy on her, but like she said earlier she intended to pull her own weight so she kept her telekinetic vice operating as much as she could manage while multitasking, lessening her weight for the others to push on or pulling them up, depending on how you looked at it.

She wasn’t connected with all the Archons, just those closest to her, but through the mind links she could feel that the others had different battlemelds overlapping. That was something she’d never tried before, but she could sense through the ripple of one mind to another that all 38 of them were Bataf connected to one another and slowing as a fixed group to avoid bumping into each other.

Impressive as that was, they weren’t going to bleed off this much speed very fast. It was going to take time, and she hoped they’d got their altitude guesses correct, for the battlemap signals weren’t penetrating the column to orient themselves off of.

With the wind whipping by her inside the pitch black null space, Ginsi finally got the signal from the others to split. She’d already started spotting protrusions on her own Pefbar and from those she could guess at their speed, but the irregularity was coming back again as they got close to the surface and the structure altered into what would be a very wide base, but one bottoming out well below ground level. The lift shafts didn’t run that deep, but supporting so much weight in such a ‘flimsy’ structure required some significant engineering chops and a rooting ‘boot’ to match.

That meant more stuff in the way, but Ginsi and the others were glad to get to do something more than just falling. At these slower speeds Ginsi was able to touch the walls and bounce off them, dancing down the null space and following the others as the trailblazers charted their course through the obstructions. They remained that way, doing their dark acrobatic dance until she got the signal to start hard braking.

The mage flipped over, using the rushing air to move her over to the side wall where she dug her heels into it as she pressed against the opposite wall with a Lachka field and wedged herself into some traction…though it looked like she was skating a trail of sparks on the wall.

The others decelerated in a variety of means, though slower than Ginsi. She didn’t want to run up on top of them and need help again, so she opted for the more extreme deceleration. Eventually the others below her stopped altogether, with her accepting a final Bataf to kill the rest of her speed and allow her to grab onto the wall and hang Spiderman style along with the others below her.

Ginsi waited there until a shaft of light blared into existence. No one moved at first, allowing their eyes to start readjusting to the light, then slowly they began crawling down to that level with the light getting brighter they closer they got to the opening.

When Ginsi got to that level she was on the wrong wall, so she jumped across and grabbed hold of the other, then crawled over beneath the doorway thankful that no one else was sticking around to help her. The null space continued to fall away beneath her, traveling down to a dead end block according to the schematics, but it was below street level and not where they wanted to go.

The mage grabbed hold of the bottom edge of the hole they’d cut in the wall and pulled herself up and into it, coming out on her knees as she looked into the bright daylight as the 37 battlemap icons ahead of her were disappearing fast. She stood up and walked into the lizard city, taking a few seconds to soak in the view and the startled looks on the lizards nearby, most of whom were not armed.

Those that were fired at the Archons, but neither they nor Ginsi shot back. She ignored them and took off running, following the line of her peers and needing to match their speed. Now she was in her element and they would not be leaving her behind.

With several pink phaser shots missing her and a couple actually making contact with her shields, Ginsi sprinted off through the city, wondering exactly how much damage 38 of the most elite Archons in Star Force could cause, and how the lizards would adapt to try and stop them.

10

February 18, 3108

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

Paul, Riona, and two other titans clung to the underside of a lizard transport, out of sight from above and not caring what the lizards on the ground saw as they flew across kilometers of enemy cityscape towards their next target, remote controlling the mind of the pilot as they had been doing for weeks to cross the expanses required to get to all the anti-orbital batteries within range of the column they’d come down.

So far this one hadn’t been spotted and shot down and they’d been able to cover a lot of ground while the rest of their 38 man team continued on to separate targets. There were too many for them all to hit together, so they’d split up to maximize time after the first one went down with surprising ease. It’d taken some improvising on site, but the lizards had plenty of stuff to use for demolitions if you knew where to look. Damaging the battery enough that they couldn’t get it repaired within 2 months meant a lot of fireworks, but Paul’s team had gotten good at it now, despite the fact that two buildings had been brought down on their heads as the lizards tried to kill or pin them inside the structures.

They knew what they were doing and were fortifying the anti-orbital batteries heavily but they were so big it was almost impossible to cover all the cracks, especially when psionics allowed minds to be distracted and wiped. The Archons, now that they were within the globe-spanning city, were damn near impossible to find and even harder to lock down, with them running or hitching rides across the landscape and easily disappearing again so long as they chose to run and not engage. Their targets were the orbital batteries, not the inhabitants, for which they didn’t have the ammo for anyway.

Paul and Riona had been living on the streets and in the undercity ever since they’d gotten to ground, relying on their supplies to sustain them and knowing they were on the clock. There were lots of defense batteries on the ground, not to mention shield generators that could throw up very heavy barriers overhead in an instant, but there were only so many weapons batteries that could reach orbit…and even those couldn’t reach all the way up to the ring shipyard. The Star Force fleet was safely out of range there, but when they came lower to assault the planet they’d come within range and have to slug it out, punching through the shields first to get to the guns…and taking a lot of ship casualties in the process.

And some of these anti-orbital batteries were the new cleansing beam models that packed more firepower and a decent range upgrade. The Archons had to clear a column of ‘safe’ passage around the column that spread out approximately 800 miles in radius, for that was the guessed range that the lizard cleansing beams had and the closest a ship could jump into the planet was directly outside the atmosphere. Unfortunately that was far enough away from the surface that you were high enough for multiple batteries otherwise denied line of sight by the planetary curve to still target you. A cone of safety directly over your landing site was enough to cover aerial traffic, but that wasn’t going to be enough to get dropships down to the planet.

As of now there was enough of a cone of safety that Paul could call down a command ship and sit it over the landing site if he wanted to. It could weather the few hits on the way down, but then it’d have to contend with the short range weaponry coming from the surface. If they needed evac he could have the Excalibur come down and batter one of the city shields to the point it broke, but his ship would get chewed up in the process and he didn’t want to bring a fleet of drones in at this close range at all.

The plan was to park them in low orbit, outside the short range lizard weapons and out of the anti-orbital batteries maximum range…but that required eliminating those close enough to cause them a world of hurt. Once that was accomplished, Paul would order an orbital bombardment to take out shield generators, short range weaponry, hangars, barracks, hatcheries, and anything else needing blown up before sending the ground troops down to clean up and start pressing the war across land to the other anti-orbital guns.

At least that was the plan in traditional invasions, but with so many high level Archons here they were going to keep hitting them in small teams ahead of the main force so long as the lizards didn’t find a way to counter them…and Paul knew that was always a threat, so they had to hurry and get all these close guns down and an LZ established before they adapted. The rest of the guns spread across the planet would be extras, but these had to go down now or extraction was going to get messy.

With Paul driving through the eyes of their pilot, he brought the blocky transport down onto a street a few kilometers away from their next target. The four titans dropped off and down to the street, then started running into obscurity as the crowds of lizards around them went into a panic. Paul knew that as long as they kept moving they’d have an advantage, but let the lizards know exactly where they were and they’d start running kamikaze wisps down on top of them…again.

Keeping that in mind, the foursome headed over ground for a couple of minutes before taking to the undercity and approaching the gun from there, out of the view of aerial reconnaissance and losing themselves in the lizard infrastructure.

After ‘interviewing’ a number of lizards they found out that several buildings and sublevels around the massive turret had been booby-trapped with explosives so the lizards could take them down the moment they spotted the Archons in them. Paul got the locations of those buildings and brought his four man team to one of them…for they needed to sneak off with some of those explosives themselves. The trick was not being seen, for the lizards would just detonate them in your face.

It was an old trick that they’d been using for what felt like years, though it’d been less than 2 months since they’d arrived on the planet. Being an intense situation nonstop, it had ground out into an endless flow of adrenaline, fatigue, and quick bits of sleep when you could manage it. How the other teams were doing now he didn’t know, for they were out of contact range, but his trio of Archons were holding up well and Paul was far from tapping out. It was rough, but they were getting the job done and not having to slaughter lizards to do it.

They were killing some, but the objective was to evade and the massed bloodbaths that Paul and Riona had been having to endure were a welcome absence. Most of the lizards dying here were from friendly fire, for they didn’t evacuate the buildings they’d booby-trapped, else they tip their hand.

When they finally went into the turret they’d have to do some fighting, but smuggling in the explosives was going to take a few hours and a lot of skill. If luck was against them that timetable would stretch out even further, but they’d get them inside eventually. Diversionary attacks would have to be made, but right now assembling the needed ordinance was the task, and as long as the lizards were providing factory-grade explosives they might as well take advantage of that rather than trying to MacGyver their own out of fuel cells and whatever else they could get their hands on from the local synthetic jungle that they were ensconced within.

When they got near the building in question Paul had the other three screen for him using mind tricks and diversions, allowing him to enter unnoticed and track down one of the bombs in the structure. He didn’t approach it directly, for there were guards in the area and he needed to knock them out first, but thankfully he could do that at range and even through the walls with his telepathy…so long as there wasn’t a security camera trained on them. Spotting those was the more challenging evasion, though so long as he had time to look around at his leisure with his Pefbar he could find and avoid them.

Luckily the lizards hadn’t put cameras on the bombs themselves. Those they were trying to hide from view and stuck them within the infrastructure as much as possible. When Paul finally got to one inside the building foundations he didn’t approach it, rather hiding behind a bulkhead and ‘touching’ it with his psionics just in case it did go off. Between the bulkhead and his armor he might be able to survive that, and he wanted the cushion just in case something went wrong.

Halfway through his inspection of the device he heard a faint screeching sound causing him to twitch. He recognized it instantly, and barely a second later Riona’s mental voice contacted him in lieu of a comm signal that might be tracked.

The big gun just opened fire.

On what?

Not sure, but it’s depressed pretty far.

Which direction?

Towards the column. You think…

Get eyes on it now.

Riona didn’t hesitate, breaking from her cover within a nearby building that was not rigged with explosives and making her way to the roof, knocking unconscious a few lizards along the way that happened to see her. Climbing 128 levels took some time, but when she got to the top she stepped out near a cupola and kept her back pressed against it so her silhouette wouldn’t stand out. It was transitioning over into night, with the suns no longer visible on the horizon but with a pink/orange sky trailing them still visible in the dimming light.

A much larger flash of brilliant pink cast shadows across the roof, with Riona circling around the cupola until she could see the turret. Another deep pink phaser beam shot out parallel to the ground and streaked over the building tops into the distance. The column was so far away it didn’t even register in the dark light near the surface, but there was a reflective stump reaching up and thinning into the sky where the sunlight was still reaching it. That disappearing line intersected with a thick yellow/tan ring that stretched across the entire sky in an arc, looking about a fifth the thickness of Earth’s moon.

Riona stared at the darkness beneath the visible column and zoomed in with her helmet’s optics as far as she could. The view changed into a myriad of lights around the column, bathing it in pinks coming from different directions, some of which seemed to be coming up from directly underneath it, along with a few other colors that she recognized as rocket plumes. The nearby turret screeched again and its pink lance was visible as it intersected the column, but Riona was too far away to see the effect.

She jacked up her comm signal, knowing that it might be tracked to her so she set to transmit to Derrick-633 so that he could then relay it to Paul using the dampened signal strength that wouldn’t reach all the way up to her through the layers of lizard infrastructure.

“Paul, have a look,” she said, sending him her visuals.

“Damn it,” he said with a snarl. “I need you to boost for an orbital link.”

“I’ll keep my head down,” she said, visually scanning the nearby sky for ships as she reset to act as his transmitter with a signal strong enough that they could not keep the lizards from being able to detect it. “Link established.”

“Admiral?” Paul asked, waiting a few heartbeats.

“I assume you’re seeing what we’re seeing?”

“Confirm they’re attacking the column.”

“Confirmed. Looks like they intend to sever it at the base before we can send any more troops down it.”

“Any change in combat on the ring?”

“Negative. I don’t think they expect it to all come down.”

“Make sure of that and get someone working the gravity drives to compensate for when the column gets chopped off.”

“You think it’ll hold?”

“I hope so, or 26,000 miles of pain are going to come falling down who knows where. The lizards can’t hit it further up so this is their only point of attack. Compensate for the weight and keep your fingers crossed.”

“Do you want an evac team standing by?”

“Negative. My team is scattered going after different targets and we’re all under the fire canopy. If it does fall I’ll get back to you, but for now just wait it out and make sure someone is riding those gravity drive controls nonstop from here on out.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Admiral Hestin promised.

“And evacuate the connecting point in case it rips a chunk of the ring off with it.”

“Sending the order now.”

“Ground team going dark,” Paul said as he cut transmission with orbit but stayed on with Riona. “Get back down here.”

“Coming,” she said, taking a few more seconds to look at the column. It hadn’t moved so much as a twitch yet, but if/when the lizards did blow through the base she didn’t know what would happen.

With another phaser screech sounding and the corresponding pink bath of light flooding over the rooftop, Riona circled around the stairwell cupola and headed back into the building. She expected some sort of lizard response to be on her position soon and she needed to get away from this building now.

Hradeiti

1

February 20, 3108

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

Jack-020 stood atop a tall lizard building, looking out across the planet’s cityscape in the dim morning light at the shipyard column he had in his helmet’s enhanced view. What he saw was almost comical, though he wasn’t laughing. The base of the column had been severed with a chunk a few dozen kilometers long missing out of it where it had formerly touched the ground.

Now it hung from the air, perfectly still, but not standing on anything. The weight was being supported from the ring in orbit, some 26,000 miles overhead, and the fact that the column hadn’t broken into pieces or pulled out from its connection at the top surprised Jack. Apparently the lizard construction was more robust than he gave it credit for.

He’d checked the orbital telemetry being fed down to them via the battlemap without having to break comm silence and noted that the numbers for the ring’s gravity drive output had been added to the feed. Right now they were running a lot harder than normal to support the weight of the column and that’d have to be dealt with eventually, but for now they weren’t worried about running out of fuel and Jack was fairly certain the column wasn’t going to fall down on top of their heads in the near future…thankfully.

Which meant it was time to get back to the mission of knocking out more anti-orbital batteries. Whether they proceeded with a full ground invasion to take out the others or sniped at the edges with orbital bombard, the more he and his small team of Archons could take out the wider the beginning window would be for fleet operations, and he knew naval hated being boxed in so tightly. And while Star Force did have a range advantage on the lizards, sitting in orbit and firing down on a single target would take far too long to do the damage needed with the strength of the lizards’ current shield generators, which on this planet were more massive than any they’d encountered before.

Star Force could get away with the slow bombardment using long range Keema on smaller lizard worlds, but if they tried that here they’d literally be at it more than a century, if not indefinitely, because if they took too long to lay out the damage the lizards could rebuild what they were losing.

So that meant the fleet had to get in closer and bring its other weaponry into the game, specifically the Dre’mo’dons, and to use them through atmosphere would mean they’d have to get real close. The key to not losing any of them was in not exposing them to anti-orbital fire, at least not from the big guns. The secondary surface defenses they could handle, but in order to get them down that low they had to run the gauntlet until a sufficiently wide enough safe zone had been established, and they were far from that.

Add in that the lizards had just taken down their only other means of getting to the surface and Jack began to wonder if the other columns around the planet had also been destroyed. He didn’t think the lizards would help Star Force out by taking down the ones they still controlled, but the rest could certainly have become targets. Searching his battlemap telemetry he saw no highlights at those locations like there was here, so he assumed they were still intact. Though why the lizards would leave them up confused him. If this was just a big stalling effort, why not take them down all at once?

Jack kept wondering if the lizards had a plan up their sleeves…like getting a whole score of reinforcements coming into the system. So far that hadn’t happened, and the full remaining Star Force invasion fleet was still here guarding the system, but sooner or later they’d have to make a choice. Stay here and continue to excessively cover the ground troops as they did their thing, or move on to help assault other systems as planned.

This core invasion was going to take decades at the minimum, Jack knew, but they couldn’t get in a rush and leave themselves exposed to counterattack. Then again they couldn’t wait too long either, with Roger and Liam’s assault fleets still chipping away at two other systems. They were wearing their fleets down and killing a lot of cruisers over the course of time, but neither had risked a full on attack yet. Not until Paul got to them with his enhanced fleet.

But to do that he’d have to leave this one, and he wasn’t going to do that until the ring was fully taken and the ground assault firmly underway. All three of the trailblazers here, himself along with Megan and Paul, were trying to draw out any possible lizard counterattack before his moving on, but none had yet came. He didn’t know if that was because there wouldn’t be one or it just hadn’t manifested itself yet, but it was something constantly on his mind…with the lizards’ hesitancy to chop off the bottom of the other columns making him wonder if they didn’t want to do any more damage to the ring than necessary if they had hopes of reclaiming it and the system.

Not that it was a fragile thing. Each column was miles wide and took a hell of a lot of firepower to chop off at the base, with this one taking hours to have been severed as it was, but destroying the ring itself was damn near impossible. There was simply too much mass for the fleet’s weaponry to chew through, and frankly it would be a waste of power to do it. They could crash the ring down into the planet, with considerable effort, and that would be far more economical than using their weapons to slowly nibble away at it, for it did stretch around the entire planet, but it would make a hell of a mess of the surface and Star Force wasn’t interested in fighting that way.

Why make a mess when you can just steal the ring from them in the first place?

That was their thinking anyway, and since the troops they’d be facing on the ground would be the ones forcing their way up into the ring via the column lifts it didn’t really matter. They’d have to kill them one place or another, so it might as well be the ring, for they were still ignoring all offers of surrender.

Never can make it easy on us, can you? Always have to make us earn it the hardest way possible.

So be it. A surrender would be much cleaner, but Star Force would take the lizards down whatever way they needed, and picking them apart piece by piece had been the method employed thus far, and there was no need to change it now…though the idea of a Death Star to just blow up the entire planet was enticing. Fortunately even the V’kit’no’sat didn’t have that kind of a weapon, and by Jack’s thinking no one would. The amount of power required to crack a planet in two was mindboggling and not deployable, unless you could drag a small star over and have it go supernova in orbit.

Planets were typically durable, fat balls that could get their surface messed up but otherwise would remain the same, and this rock was no different. But Jack and the others weren’t going to mess this one up much. Just a little redecorating via the fleet, then a good scrubbing with the ground teams to clear one sector of lizard city after another.

Jack glanced at the ring in orbit above, always visible day or night and always the same section, for it was spinning with them and locked into position via the columns. Typically Star Force would spend a very long time cleaning up a conquered planet, and while that was somewhat about erasing the lizard presence entirely it also had a very big logistics value. Why go off and mine raw materials when you have concentrations of valuable ones right here in the lizard infrastructure? These were already refined, processed, and fabricated, meaning recycling these materials would be a hell of a lot easier than mining new ones.

This was the most densely carpeted lizard planet Star Force had ever tried to take, meaning it had a lot of recycling ahead of it, but fortunately they had a little asset in orbit to use for that. While they might not be able to use the ring to build new Star Force ships, with a little tinkering it would become one giant scrap yard, and if they could leave even one column intact it would save millions of dropship flights to get the material up to orbit.

This one could be repaired, Jack thought, so long as it didn’t fall off. They weren’t going to be building any new 26,000 mile bridges up to the facility, so it was either use what was here or fly the bits and pieces up via a flock of the tiny Star Force transports.

Which was another reason why they had to get more of these anti-orbital guns taken down…so the lizards couldn’t chop off more of this column if they felt like it later.

“Work, work, work,” Jack whispered, heading back inside the enemy building and sneaking his way down into the undercity where the rest of his team waited.

Paul and his team got to the surface as a squadron of skeets roared past, killing a few wisps that were sniffing around down amongst the buildings where the anti-air fire couldn’t target them. The grey skeets flashed past so fast they were a blur of metal and mauler cannons, then they were gone and the incoming icons of a dropship pulsed on his HUD, still several kilometers distant.

He responded by throwing down a waypoint in the street just ahead of them, then the four Archons spread out chasing lizards away and looking for any that were armed. The few that were they either shot or rendered unconscious from range while the Sparrow-class dropship landed. It was the smallest one Star Force had, only able to carry as many people or cargo as a truck, but there were only four people in Paul’s team and the rest of the Archons on planet were being picked up separately at their various positions that were hundreds of miles apart.

Riona got to the dropship first and waited for the rest of them before getting onboard. When Paul got there last of all the door quickly closed and the pilots waited until it was fully shut before lifting off and flying up through the city buildings and back into the cover of the roaming fighter squadrons.

Paul walked a few steps through the small craft and up into the cockpit compartment, finding a pair of pilots. While the dropships could easily be flown individually, it was always better to have two sets of eyes and hands in play…especially in a combat zone.

“Thanks for the lift.”

“Not a problem,” the lead pilot said as she gestured out the forward ‘window,’ though it was actually just a holographic display over top of armor plates protecting them from the exterior. “The Excalibur has our back.”

As the dropship rose up above the buildings that beautiful Star Force grey donut sat miles away in the distance, but it was so large to be easily visible and pumping out plenty of firepower against the surrounding cityscape and airborne targets while the handful of dropships sped off to pick up the Archon teams.

“So it does,” Paul said, resting a hand on her shoulder in thanks.

She smiled, then glanced at her uniform and the dried blood smear he left on it.

“Sorry,” he said, forgetting that it was even on his armored hands.

She brushed it off and shrugged. “You guys sure are dirty.”

“This is nothing,” Riona commented dryly, and Paul knew what she meant. If they’d been coming back from a ‘slayer’ mission their armor would have been dripping in lizard blood.

The dropship quickly flew them to the huge command ship sitting a couple of kilometers over the tallest buildings with the chopped off shipyard column situated in the backdrop not far off. The shields lowered over one of the hangar bays to let the sparrow inside, then Paul and his team got out on the deck to wait for the others, seeing that one group had beat them there.

One by one all the dropships came in, followed by the skeet squadrons that had been covering them, and Paul was grateful that his head count came up full. None of his invasion team had been lost or injured, by the looks of them.

“You bringing the fleet down now?” Megan asked as she walked over to him, with Jack a few seconds behind her.

“No. I think we could all use a good sleep, then we can get to work on this.”

“You want to give the lizards that much time?”

“Normally no, but I’d rather have the three of us involved than not.”

Riona lightly punched Paul in the shoulder as she walked by, letting him know she was heading off.

“I agree,” Jack said, forming their little triumvirate as the other Archons all dispersed. “Let’s get some rest and pound them when we’re fresh. They’re not going to do much rebuilding before then.”

“You don’t think the fleet can start picking off targets without us?”

“I’d rather I be riding the controls when the anti-orbital guns are involved.”

“Same here,” Jack said. “It takes some finesse.”

“I thought it was point and shoot,” Megan said deadpan…then finally cracked a smile that was visible as she retracted her helmet. “Alright, I get your point. I don’t want to lose any drones or hull plates either. Mind if we kick it here for a while?” she asked Paul.

“You’re always welcome on my ship, but the Mario Kart will have to wait. I need to crash.”

“Ditto.”

“You think we’re going to pull that off again?”

Paul looked at Jack and shook his head. “I don’t know. The lizards had a hard time stopping us, but they’re going to have time to think up something new. If we can take those things out navally, that’s my first pick.”

“Going to need a lot of shields to withstand that.”

“We’ve got plenty of command ships.”

“Until you take off,” Megan commented.

“The only place I’m going right now is to bed. We’ll continue this in…10 hours?”

“Make it twelve,” Jack said, allowing himself a yawn. “I’m going to get something to eat first then zonk out.”

“Twelve then,” Megan confirmed with the three of them heading for the hangar exit, then splitting up to walk to different parts of the ship. Paul headed straight back to his quarters, knowing the other two would eventually end up in temporary versions. The ship always had some set up and ready for visitors, so they wouldn’t have to do anything other than open the door and drop into bed.

But that wasn’t quite what Paul did. When he got into his quarters he split and walked out of his armor, then sat down at his personal comm terminal and got some quick updates on the fleet and the combat still going on within the ring. There was still a large segment that the lizards controlled, but Star Force now owned more than three fourths of it with more ground being gained by the day.

Everything seemed to be normal up there, and the Excalibur had already left the surface and ran back to orbit while he was walking from the bay to here. It’d had to run through some anti-orbital phaser and cleansing beam hits on the way up, for Paul’s team had only been able to take out enough guns to create a clear zone near the surface, but the command ship’s shields were strong enough to weather the onslaught briefly. Tomorrow Paul would bring in a lot more command ships and start some fancy maneuvers while they pounded one of those barriers from low near the surface where the curve of the planet would block a lot of the others, but for right now his ship was safely back in orbit and its weakened shields recharging. He sent the Admiral a quick thank you message, then logged out of the terminal and headed for the shower.

He got a good, fast scrubbing that he’d badly needed after so many weeks living in his armor, then walked out towards his closet and grabbed some soft and oh so comfortable clothes, pulling those on and heading for bed.

Paul laid down face first, feeling the blissful softness of the bed and its covering blanket and just laid there like a dead body for a few minutes, running through some mental release tricks he’d learned long ago, and got himself out of battle mode. With his body now allowing itself to feel the stress and fatigue, he rolled over onto his side and slipped his bare feet underneath the covers and out of the frosty chill that the air conditioning was blissfully providing, then curled up into a comfortable pose and let himself sink into a deep sleep, not worrying about anything else besides attending to what his body and mind needed.

When he woke up it wasn’t to an alarm, which he’d set on his way into the shower, but to his normal habits. He’d slept 6 and a half hours in what felt like 2 minutes, which told him how bad the fatigue really was. After some of his extremely intense workouts or long slayer missions he’d be out 8-12 hours, so this wasn’t so bad. There hadn’t been a lot of combat involved, just a lot of sporadic running, sneaking around, and staying alive…with a little blowing things up thrown in.

Blowing out a deep breath, Paul rolled over in bed and got comfortable again, slipping back into a normal sleep mode and resting until his alarm would finally wake him up. Then it’d be time to get back to work and start expanding on the hole they’d just made in the lizards’ anti-orbital defense grid.

2

June 3, 3108

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

Casper Jenson ran off his dropship along with a host of other personnel when it set down on the planet’s makeshift landing pad…which was little more than a cleared off section of lizard cityscape that had been blasted away. Nearby some proper ‘floor’ panels had been spread out with prefab structures going up on them, but right now it was a mixture of dirt and rubble that the mechwarrior was having to run across towards the section of the giant assembly area where a massive transport had just landed ahead of them and was already offloading mechs.

His was coming out in 5 pieces, each compacted down into a drone-like cubical rectangle to save space. Each section had limited flight capability, designed for long hauls but with little maneuverability. That was alright, because he wasn’t a pilot. He was a mechwarrior, and short flights were nothing more than travel time from one battlefield to another.

But he wasn’t flying anywhere at the moment, thankfully, as he flinched from the sound of a Keema battery firing overhead. Several actually, in a chorus that could only mean one thing. As he ran he glanced upwards, seeing the dozens of naval ‘donuts’ sitting in the upper atmosphere that were apparently continuing to bombard distant targets. They were taking out the largest threats, the anti-orbital batteries and shield generators, plus some of the secondary surface to air weaponry, leaving the mechs to clean up the smaller stuff and watch the backs of the ground troops.

As well as knocking over buildings if needed. The Tier 1 mechs wouldn’t be much good at that, for all the lizard structures in this area were huge, but the mech he was getting was a massive Tier 4, the largest that Star Force had built to date, with each of the individual segments being bigger than Tier 1 mechs all by themselves.

There were plenty of Tier 1s around, neos mostly along with some support madcats and other models that were somewhat out of date. The maneuverability of the neos was just too much to pass up, though the ‘driving’ mechs had their uses in specific missions. Most mechs Star Force had nowadays were ‘wearable’ in that they responded to your body’s movements, whether they be physical or mentally calculated, instead of having a computer control the mech’s steps and balance.

Staying clear of the areas where other mechs were operating so he didn’t get stepped on, Casper headed over to the area where the five pieces of his mech were floating over the ground with a small tech team outpost beneath. He conferred with them on the status and loadout, then a staircase stretched down from one of the pieces to the top of the prefab outpost. He ran up it, climbing inside the dense segment and into the command shell.

He slid into the loose harness in the center after slipping his boots and shirt off. He preferred more skin contact than others did, which was an old tradition for mechwarriors that had held up through to the ‘neural’ age. He wasn’t an Archon and didn’t have their telepathic skills to interface with his mech, but Star Force technology had advanced to the point where he didn’t have to, allowing him to pull on a headband-like halo that would access his mind directly.

The harness was auxiliary, but Casper was one of those who had found that a combination of neural and physical commands worked best for them, so he got himself latched in properly and checked the status of all systems before closing the hatch and retracting the gangway. He kept the 5 pieces hovering in place, then moved them back from the outpost enough not to crush it as he studied the battlemap.

The landing area was secure with a ring of mechs around it, some of which were chopping down more buildings to eliminate zones of attack for infantry, but there was another reason for that. The rubble would be compressed down into the undercity beneath them, cutting off access to it and burying the upper levels, creating a new ‘ground’ that the enemy couldn’t sneak up at them through. Cleaning out everything down to the rock of the planet wasn’t feasible during an initial foothold operation, for the lizard subsurface structures were usually extensive and the rumors coming back to him had said it was even worse on this planet, the first core world Star Force had invaded.

But that was alright. The packed ground beneath him would block out the undercity and the landing zone would remain safe, leaving him and others to work on pushing that safe zone out further while other teams were busy fighting off waves of lizards coming at them. Suicidal as always, they’d been moving across the planet to the single landing zone and engaging Star Force whenever and wherever they could. There was no natural geography left, meaning that everything was urban fighting and on the lizards’ turf, making things even more complex for the mechs until they redecorated enough to get themselves comfortable.

Aside from the Tier 1 mechs in play, which were essentially infantry as far as the hierarchy in war machines were concerned, there were also quite a few walkers around the base. The hexpeds were the upgrade versions of what used to be the Hoths, and were the only combat walkers still used, with the difference being that these had more than two legs, hence they were referred to as ‘walkers’ more often than ‘mechs.’ They had even less mobility, but were very hardened targets and carried with them impressive firepower. They were basically mobile siege devices, with the largest variety essentially being a grounded warship moving about on six legs.

There were also some anti-air walkers and other supports, but for straight up combat the heavy walkers were it, while everything else was biped mechs that started with the ‘infantry’ Tier 1s and expanded upward.

There were a handful of Voltrons roaming about, which were basically bigger versions of the neos. They were Tier 2s and came in either segments or full units nowadays, thanks to the really big ground transports currently in play. The non-modular ones held the most combat capability, but without the flexibility or quicker aerial movements of the segmented ones. They could still fly, but it was like putting a big boulder on a string and having a cloud carry it across the surface. Not graceful at all, and all combat systems had to be powered down to utilize it.

The Voltrons could fly and, in a limited fashion, fight while in the air in pieces, but put them together and they became just as ungainly, hence most Voltrons were the segmented models…though if you were in a really tough scrape you wanted the singles around for sure.

Above them were the massive Tier 3s, all of which were computer controlled ‘driven’ varieties. The Mk.3 madcats dominated the third tier, but like always Star Force had created many different models at all levels, so you’d see variations here and there. At this current deployment there were no Tier 3 mechs in play, not yet at least, but there were several Tier 4s out there already.

Structured similar to the Voltrons, Casper’s five segments began transforming on his command and a huge bipedal mech was formed. It could be ‘driven’ or body controlled, for its movements were so slow you could fight it effectively either way, but Casper preferred manual body movements and only put it on autopilot when he needed to. When the legs and arms formed they had heavy gauntlets on each, then a head appeared that was atypical of the neos that had nothing more than a short neck stump. Otherwise the Megazord-class mech looked like a huge, beefed up neo.

With all five pieces assembled, Casper began walking the mobile mountain across the crushed surface and into the less paved regions, pushing through a half broken building like he was walking through snow as he headed out to the ‘trees’ that were other abandoned buildings. Infantry had already cleared them, but they weren’t using explosives. It was up to the Megazords to take them down, so Casper took to his assigned waypoints and the buildings that needed to be leveled and started hitting them with punches, elbows, and shoulder strikes with the lizard structures crumbling under each hit almost as if they were made of paper.

They weren’t armored, for sure, and the size of the Megazord would have made the Skarrons proud, so the impacts occurring had a huge amount of mass behind them, with the Tier 4 mech itself suffering nothing more than some surface scrapes in the process.

Casper continued leveling buildings and giving Star Force more room to maneuver…or at least it would after smaller mechs and construction equipment got the rubble crushed down into a new foundation, but after a few hours he got a call to combat along with two of the others. All three mechs abandoned what they were doing and walked further inside the makeshift base and over to a tall prefab structure that was built to house the accoutrements for the mechs.

Casper let the other two go first, then he stepped in and grabbed a huge sword and even larger shield, carrying both items in the mech’s mechanical hands as he followed the other two Megazords off down one of the city roads, having to punch their way through some tight spots and having little trouble doing it. They had a long walk, but they were so large that even a casual stroll propelled them along rapidly for an urban environment. Eventually the three came to the edge of an area where there was mech combat ongoing, with a formation of Tier 1s moving in and out of streets as they contended with some very heavy surface defenses that contained anti-air and anti-mech turrets.

And beyond those were even more stretched across the landscape. Behind them the orbital bombardment had taken out a lot of targets, but now that their firepower was fixing on the big anti-orbital guns only and would remain the case until enough of the sky could be declared safe for the drone fleets to get low enough to pulverize the threats, the ground team either had to wait months or deal with it themselves.

And the Megazords were their way of dealing with it in a quick and decisive fashion, especially when employed together.

The Godzilla-sized mechs walked right up to the enemy turrets with their physical shields blocking fire in front of them and slashed down with their massive swords, cutting through buildings with a single swipe or having to hammer away at energy shields for a bit before they eventually succumbed. One by one the turrets went down and this roadblock was eliminated, then the Tier 1 mechs moved in and continued to hunt smaller targets and make ready for the true infantry teams to come in and sweep each building, with so many of the structures it looked like an urban forest so widespread and dense that the lizards could hide out here forever.

But they couldn’t. The battlemap was a mess of free fire zones and no-go zones, making sure that none of the big mechs endangered the ground troops and that the lizards couldn’t hide behind enemy lines and spring an ambush later. Casper was asked to take down a civilian building while he was there and chopped it down to size in a short period of time. Why? He didn’t know, but he trusted the ground commander who’d requested it and didn’t ask for any further explanation.

He was one of the giants roaming the cluttered landscape and couldn’t get involved with the actions of the ants below him, so he focused on his tasks and let the ants handle their work themselves while being there to take a big whack when and where requested. It was a team effort, and one that was only going to be ramping up in coming months.

Before he was done for the day he was directed to hack out a new landing zone on the perimeter, and into that rubble field a flurry of armored transports came down. Another group of Tier 1s poured out and the originals on site took their place on the ships, being carried back either to orbit or the main site for resupply and rest.

War was a round the clock operation and Star Force wasn’t going to waste a minute, and given the size and density of this planet’s civilization that was probably a good idea, for they had a hell of a lot of chopping to do to get this planet under control and the enemy threat neutralized.

Even in a Megazord you had to take it one blow at a time and trust in the plan, otherwise you’d be overwhelmed with the sheer impossibility of it all. But little by little they’d get it done, and some day down the road, years from now, this planet would belong to Star Force.

Right now though, Casper had a few more buildings to smash before he headed back to base and someone else took his place playing demolisher.

Paul had waited the additional months after establishing a foothold on the planet until combat on the shipyard ring finally came to a close. They’d been killing billions of lizards up there for years now, but the enemy had eventually run out of ring and the last column connection had been blocked off. With no more reinforcements arriving the last of the opposition had been killed off and the column sealed, leaving the shipyard fully in Star Force’s hands.

When that happened Paul knew it was time to go. He still worried about a lizard counterattack on this system, but so far none had come and he couldn’t wait any longer. Some more regular fleets had arrived to supplement the system’s defenses and guard the ground troops as they made an ever increasing bid to eradicate the lizards from the planet, so Paul felt comfortable taking two thirds of his surviving fleet out of planetary and stellar orbit and assembling them at an exiting jumppoint. Megan and Jack would be staying behind to oversee the further conquest of this system but Paul had to leave with the bulk of the advanced fleet he’d been given.

Knowing that the system was in good hands short of a massive reinforcement effort, he assembled his jumpships with their drones tucked safely onboard and jumped out, heading across several other lizard systems and knowing that they would probably relay their presence ahead of their progress via the lizards’ interstellar comm system but this time it didn’t matter, for there were already Star Force warships at their destination system.

They didn’t control stellar orbit, so rather than fight a large scale battle there Paul had his fleet make a very slow final jump and come out in middle orbit far from the star in the center of the Jenspat System where Roger had been whittling away at the lizard fleet for years. It was also a core world with an equally large defense fleet that had subsequently been reduced by over a third despite the ongoing construction taking place. Convoys were still coming and going, bringing in raw materials and taking out finished products, new ships, and more ground troops. None of them were heading to the system Paul had left, but obviously the lizards were still reinforcing something somewhere, as Roger had been informing him all along via a relay seda that had been sitting in this system and keeping the three naval masterminds in delayed, yet constant contact with one another.

It took a long time for Paul’s fleet to come out of its jump and get assembled, with some of Roger’s ships waiting for them and driving off any lizards that finally found their way out to their arrival point. No massive response took place, for the lizards didn’t seem to be trying too hard to kill Roger’s ships, mainly buying time to keep their shipyard rings active, for this system had two planets with rings, and they desperately needed to keep the supply chain flowing. So long as Roger didn’t make any massive assaults against infrastructure or try to blockade the star the lizard fleets held position and had taken on a defensive posture aside from some constant light probing actions against the invaders.

But now it was time to change that, so once Paul’s fleet got assembled he coordinated with Roger and moved down into stellar orbit and hit the lizard fleet there straight on. No subtlety or tricks, just a direct assault that had him and his Dre’mo’don-heavy drones cutting like a buzz saw through the enemy that Roger had done a good job of reducing in number. That, combined with the increased ship count thanks to Paul’s fleet, gave Star Force an advantage it wasn’t going to squander.

To their credit the lizards didn’t blink, nor did they just sit back and watch. They reinforced the star, deciding to make their stand there and try to overwhelm the combined Star Force fleets. It was really their only play, for if they didn’t go all in and stellar orbit was taken, their convoys would shut down and this system would be off the grid anyway, after which point all they could do was hope to take some of the Star Force ships with them as they were eventually destroyed.

To the rest of the lizard empire the system would have been lost as soon as it was cut off and the two rings were no longer accessible to the trade routes. Time now was on Star Force’s side, with a blockade equaling a win, so the lizards went for one final hammer blow and met Roger’s and Paul’s fleet at the star and engaged in the largest fleet action to date.

The battle lasted more than two weeks with neither side pulling back. Paul lost more than a quarter of his drones, but the rest of his fleet was still standing, many damaged, but still standing afterwards. Roger’s fleet was also hurt, but between the two of them there was more than enough firepower left to roam the system and start trashing any and all lizard infrastructure they could find, starting with the battlestations and working their way on from there.

They plucked the defenses from the two shipyard rings then left them be, with Roger’s fleet taking up a blockade mentality and simply sitting on the system to deny the shipyards access to outside resources rather than trying to destroy them. The huge ground invasion in Menchet was sucking up a lot of ground troops as it was and Star Force wasn’t going to open up another just yet. Until they did Roger was going to keep this system under his thumb and pick away at their planetary defense where he saw fit, with a second lizard core system now off their industrial grid.

Meanwhile Paul took his reduced fleet away to strike at the third system under siege and reinforce Liam, fulfilling their original battle plan and taking that core world off the grid as well. All three systems still had billions, if not trillions of lizards inside them and decades of hard fighting left to correct that problem, but they were no longer of any use to the rest of the lizard empire, and with four ring shipyards no longer pumping out ships for their use the power rating of the rimward half of lizard territory took a significant hit, though was far from out of the game.

It would take years more for Star Force to rebuild their assault fleets enough to hit another core world, but the massive reinforcements that Paul, Liam, and Roger knew would be a pain in the ass never manifested. It seemed the lizards were in damage control mode even though nearly all their core worlds were still untouched. They could see the writing on the wall, though, and there was something elsewhere they were more interested in supporting, with their obvious intention being to keep their core worlds pumping out ships and troops until Star Force got around to shutting them down one by one.

That would take decades, if not centuries, to accomplish, but the scales were already beginning to tip and the snowball effect wasn’t going to be too far behind.

3

June 3, 3119

Menchet System (lizard core)

Tess

Dak Lenson drove his construction mech across the shaved bedrock, the two massive feet of the machine stomping down on a powder of crushed pebbles that covered the solid stone. Above him the sky was visible over a ring of mountain ranges surrounding the huge reclamation site…except they weren’t mountain ranges. Up at their peaks was actually ground level with Star Force having dug down, not into the planet, but into the undercity the lizards had built in order to completely erase their footprint from this world.

That was a huge undertaking, but Dak was just one of millions of personnel that had been brought in to the system to start chipping away at that task, despite the fact that on the other half of the planet the war was still ongoing.

That bothered him a bit on arrival, but he’d been here four years and hadn’t seen a single lizard that entire time. The army was gradually taking more territory and leaving even more lizard cityscape for the construction crews to disassemble, and while there was still danger it was commonly known that the enemy no longer had any starships to travel with and the airspace was locked down around the border regions. Taking out these bastards was apparently extremely hard work, with portions of low orbit still inaccessible due to big guns on the planet’s surface, but with every day that passed the lizards were getting ground down and the inevitable was coming.

It could be another decade before this planet was finally clear, so Dak didn’t complain about his own task. It was tedious, but nothing compared to the headache the troops were having to endure.

He drove his mech down a familiar path now, carrying a box that was actually made up of two giant hands. When he got to his destination he reached the box out over a platform and rotated the wrists on the mech, cracking the box and letting the infrastructure debris fall down into the energy field. That kept it from hitting and breaking the apparatus on impact, as well as funneling it over to a conveyor. Dak turned his mech around and passed several others, heading back to the constantly moving debris line to pick up another load as the pieces of crushed building that he had deposited on the moving road sped off into the distance.

From the air they appeared to move slowly, a tiny rivulet of material traveling down a line that intersected with others, each time combining their recycling streams into larger ‘rivers’ that traveled hundreds of miles across the landscape through valleys already carved out of the lizard infrastructure. Those exposed areas of bedrock were spreading out off a vein-like network as the mashed materials eventually flowed to the base of one of the shipyard ring’s columns.

It, like all the others, had been chopped off by the lizards before Star Force could make use of them. Luckily none of them had fallen down to the planet, held aloft by their tenuous connections to the ring itself, but this one had been repaired, somewhat, with several visible structural components propping up and reconnecting the column to the substantial foot that extended much further down into the bedrock than had been excavated.

Now it showed as a wide base that narrowed up to the point where it had been above ground and broke, with those support struts making the connection and housing rebuilt lift tubes that connected the shipyard ring, through the column, to angled lifters that extended down to the flat bedrock where the rivers of material fed into them.

The pieces that Dak had delivered were shunted up those lifters like an escalator, then were shoved into one of the lift tubes and hit a null gravity field with energy shield segmentors that then pushed the material in batches up the tubes, giving them enough acceleration to continue on a ballistic path upwards without any further assistance.

The mix/mash of junk began a long journey up the 26,000 miles of column, now configured for one way transit only, eventually being caught and slowed by receptor segmentors on the other end of the column. The debris transitioned into the ring at slow speeds and was separated out into new rivers being sent in numerous directions within the facility. Most went to within 100 miles in either direction where the pieces were dumped into a sorting facility.

From there more rivulets of material were sent out, each by their kind, to recycling facilities that Star Force had rebuilt the ring for. Some of the native machinery had been repurposed while others had to be constructed on site, the materials for which came from previous recycling activities. Dead as the planet was becoming, it was also a treasure trove to any serious mining operation and the ring operated as the perfect place to begin processing it all in a way that wouldn’t take more than a millennia to complete.

This wasn’t Star Force’s first reclamation project, but it was by far the densest lizard infrastructure encountered to date and the planet was covered in it, making for a huge endeavor…but Star Force had a pension for huge infrastructure projects, so this was right up their alley and as long as the lizards were eventually removed from the planet without incident they would have as many centuries as needed to finish it all.

When those sorted materials reached their destination they were disassembled and processed, resulting in a much more efficient mining process than mining ore would have garnered. The junk material wasn’t present here, meaning that nearly all of the material being sent up to orbit was valuable in one fashion or another, even if it did appear to just be junk. Using the ‘lego’ method, Star Force pulled it apart and put it back together again, first sending the pure processed materials off through the ring on even more rivers…though this time they were carrying neat cubes rather than rubble.

Those precious materials arrived in warehouses and were stacked up with plenty of room for more to come while a smaller flow left the warehouse as crews came to pick up what they needed to feed the factories within the ring. The cubes of raw material were sent down even more artificial rivers to even more remote sections of the ring hundreds of miles away through the innards of the structure, eventually arriving at small parts factories that built the bigger ‘lego’ pieces that the shipyards required.

And those shipyards that Star Force had set up within the ring, full Star Force shipyards, were using those materials to build the equipment being used on the surface of the planet. The more material came up, the more harvesting mechs and ‘river’ conduits they could produce, along with flocks of dropships, speeders, trucks and trains, small arms, toothbrushes, etc. Some special materials were having to be shipped in for select items, namely arc elements and solari, and there were constant, yet small convoys coming in from the ADZ bringing those in to supplement the mass of material that the lizard legacy was graciously providing them, from which a small Star Forge was also beginning to be constructed to directly supply the rare materials in coming years.

On the ring that the lizards had used to make warships to attack and kill others, an increasing number of Star Force drones were being produced as more and more Star Force-grade shipyard nooks were being built across the ring. Those drones were going to replace others lost and refill the fleets that had taken the first three lizard core worlds, easing the strain on the ADZ in building enough to pursue yet more invasions.

They weren’t ready yet, not even close, but every year that went by the captured ring was growing more powerful. Right now it was barely operating on life support, but over time that would change and the very instrument of industrial oppression that the lizards had so carefully crafted for their own use was being turned against them. And the very infrastructure that the lizards had built to house and grow their power on the planet below was going to be used to fuel that endeavor.

The rings in the other two systems were also being converted, even as some of them were still engaged in internal combat. Some might think that was reckless, but based on the history of the capture of the first lizard ring, Star Force knew what it needed to do and wanted a head start on the conversion so that when they did get a ground reclamation site established they could essentially hit the ground running.

But Tess was the forbearer in what was going to become standard protocol. The rings would not be destroyed. Not dropped down on the planets to cause massive destruction as many people had argued, especially those civilians in the ADZ that came from races destroyed or forced to flee the lizard advance. Many couldn’t understand why the planets were being taken with such kid gloves, and that sentiment had only doubled since the assaults on the three core worlds were made public.

What they didn’t understand, along with a lot of other things, was that civilization wasn’t something that you abandoned during war then picked back up afterwards. Star Force fought the way it did because that’s the way Star Force chose to fight, and they didn’t feel like dropping bombs and just blasting everything to rubble. They were going to fight the lizards head on, offering surrenders constantly, and always keeping their deaths to be their choice.

Stripping away planetary defenses then just ‘nuking’ it was a whole lot of destruction after only asking perhaps one person if they wanted to surrender. Taking the planet piece by piece gave people who weren’t in charge the chance to surrender directly when the fighting got to them.

And it didn’t matter that never in the history of Star Force had a lizard surrendered. They were going to give them the chance because each of them was a different person than they’d encountered before. No one expected any different results, but they weren’t making assumptions. Sovereignty of the individual meant you might predict what someone would choose to do, but you never let someone else choose for them.

Killing everything in sight was always an option, as were different methods, but therein lay the trap. True civilization did not become uncivilized to save itself, for in doing so it would destroy that which it was trying to save. Without honor there was no civilization, no matter how many cities or ships you built, and the lizards had shown time and again that they had no honor. Fighting their way would mean abandoning honor, which was why Star Force would never do it and they were going to keep painstakingly slaying the lizards the hard way.

They didn’t use chemical or biological weapons because, one, they were nasty and, two, they didn’t offer the option of surrender. Sending an Archon in with death sabers to kill thousands wasn’t pretty, but it was honorable. Facing the enemy one, two, or ten at a time offered the enemy a chance to run away, throw down their weapons, or just say ‘I quit.’ Star Force could kill a lot of lizards and had gotten very good and experienced at doing so, but it was always because the lizards would not yield and if they were not stopped they’d go on to kill others.

Bombing a planet into rubble and sending in ground troops to kill all the inhabitants still ended up with billions, if not trillions of dead lizards, and from the outside it looked to accomplish the same thing, but in truth they were vastly different ways to conduct warfare.

And Star Force not taking the darkside route, not employing the same tactics, not decrying that every single lizard must die was also a way of insulting their enemy. Star Force was going to remain Star Force and, in defeating the lizards, show up their misguided and ill-advised philosophy and tactics. The fact that they’d defended the ADZ against them initially, then had taken thousands of star systems from them was a major blow to the ‘inevitability’ of lizard dominance, now multiplied exponentially with the fall of the first core world.

And taking that world’s shipyard ring intact, a very real symbol of the lizards’ power and superiority over the other races of the galaxy, and using it to transform the rubble of their planet into the means of further conquering their empire was an irony that was altogether typical Archon.

They weren’t just defeating the lizards, they were mockingly schooling them in the process.

That wasn’t lost on Dak and the other construction crews, who were paying attention to the war front in this system and others closely. They weren’t too worried about their security, knowing that Star Force had the situation well in hand, and that wasn’t just a Human perspective. The vast majority of the construction crews were Kiritak and Bsidd, and they had similar thoughts concerning their role here and the irony of it all.

So as Dak went back to another pile of debris and dipped both mechanical hands into it like scooping up a clump of prickly snow, he realized that what his mech was holding had been lizard material that would soon be recycled into Star Force material. They weren’t just taking out the trash and dumping it in a star, they were correcting a massive wrong. Taking the infrastructure of a murdering race and turning it into the infrastructure of a protective beacon of light in the galaxy.

That gave the mountains of lizard undercity around them different meaning, even as larger mechs were walking up the banks of those piles to tear up more exposed levels and add to the loose material that Dak was picking up. He and the others were but an army of ants chewing away at what looked like an insurmountable challenge, but then again that’s what most races thought of the lizards themselves. That they couldn’t be beaten, and even when you did manage to best them in one system they simply spread out to 10 new ones. It couldn’t be done, many had said, and still said, but here they were, bit by bit chipping away at the lizard empire and doing it in an honorable and civilized fashion.

Dak and the other ants would do their part, day in and day out, knowing not to look at the big picture, daunting as it was. No, all they had to do was worry about their individual tasks and let the Monarchs and Archons worry about coordinating and planning everything. That’s what they did, and had done from the beginning, and they hadn’t led Humanity astray, let alone the other races and individuals that had joined the Star Force empire.

And with each addition came more ants, and every year that passed saw those ants reproducing in even greater numbers. More and more people like Dak had grown up within Star Force, grown wise, strong, and experienced, contributing their tiny individual power into the greater whole and trusting in their leadership implicitly.

For as Dak was literally seeing around him, an army of ants large enough could move mountains, and give Star Force enough time to grow even larger and those mountains would become little more than warmup exercises. If people thought the lizards were intractable, they were going to find a new definition to the word once this war was won and Star Force had time to put down firm roots, for it wasn’t going anywhere, and this light of civilization was going to shine so bright that the entire galaxy would see it.

Dak glanced up from his controls as his mech was walking in line with a full load and looked out across the thousands of others mechs around him, knowing this was but a tiny dot on the planet now covered with Star Force worker ants and took pride in that fact. They were tearing down the corrupt and building up the light, one scoop of debris at a time, and daring the races of the galaxy to say it couldn’t be done one more time.

4

April 2, 3137

Anchess System (ADZ)

Mothere

Paget passed through the airlock on the ground floor of his residential building, waiting impatiently for it to cycle out the nitrogen/oxygen air and replace it with the ammonia/oxygen that would allow him to breathe properly without his suit. It took forever, as usual, but the doors eventually parted and allowed the Gnar to walk out and begin heading down the hallways seeing a mix of armored and unarmored kin in passing.

He didn’t remove his armor until he got back to his domicile, then pulled off the various pieces and removed his mask, setting it all in a specialized nook and hooking up the tank to the refiller. Paget stretched his stubby arms out, feeling the fresh air on his purple, wrinkly flesh but it did little good to improve his mood. He’d just gotten finished with another futile attempt to negotiate with Star Force regarding the acquisition of new planets in what they called the ‘lizard occupation zone’…except there were no more lizards in it. There was no one in it. But they were stubbornly denying anyone else access, and those bold enough to try to put down colonies in the region were forcibly removed when they were discovered, not to mention hit with severe economic and sometimes territorial penalties.

The Gnar knew not to trifle with them, but since there were only a few ammonia-based atmospheres in the galaxy it made no sense not for them to allow Paget’s people to colonize them! No other race could breathe the air, and aside from returning their original homeworld to them, Star Force was keeping the Gnar out of all the others…including two that used to be their own possessions!

The rest of the territory that the Gnar had lost to the lizards were worlds where they had to wear armor and live indoors, much like here. They didn’t even own the full planet, only 3/8ths of it, and it was what was known as an ‘Alliance World.’ The Gnar had fled to several worlds like this within the ADZ long before Paget had been born, then negotiated, traded, or bought other regions to expand their territorial base while constantly having to live under Star Force mandates. Technically they didn’t run the Gnar’s territory, but they were meddlesome whenever one of their rules was being violated.

As it was, only the Gnar homeworld was free of their stench, which was located in the occupation zone and that meant that all the surrounding systems were off limits to further colonization! How could they grow again if Star Force wouldn’t let them have any of the worlds that they weren’t using? What right did they have to dictate to the Gnar what they could or could not do!

Paget had argued this and many other points to no avail. The Star Force city in the border zone between planetary regions was where he had just come from, sitting there like a watchdog over the Gnar and the other races on this planet, and few people actually liked going there. He had gone out of duty, but the obstinate behavior of their representatives was intolerable! Yes, they defeated the lizards and good for them for doing so. The Gnar were willing to pay to acquire one of the ammonia worlds, even some of the inhabitable ones nearby their homeworld. Damn it all, they were even willing to pay to reclaim some of their former colonies on non-ammonia worlds that the lizards had taken from them, but Star Force would not sell to them.

This wasn’t uncommon, for most other races were in the same position. Homeworlds had been returned to most, without charge, but everything else Star Force was holding on to save for those races that were playing by their rules and ingratiating themselves whenever possible. The Reen were the worst offenders and to date had acquired 13 star systems in what had used to be Calavari territory!

Paget kicked aside a datapad lying on his floor in frustration, seeing it bounce off a wall and spin around on the smooth, hard floor for a few seconds before becoming still. The sound brought his broodmates running, but he calmed them down with a twitch of his lumpy head and headed for his private room, not interested in talking with any of them or his children, though he did request they send him some food.

While they ran off to work on that he sealed himself away from the noise of his growing family and sat down behind his comm terminal. While he was a high ranking official within the Gnar and one of the most senior on this planet, room here was scarce and even his ‘luxurious’ domicile was small compared to what his station deserved. He had 6 broodmates and 38 offspring at this point, but for a Gnar that was barely a good start at a proper family. Try as they might, the old traditions were hard to maintain on this cramped world and Yavit, his homeworld, was not much better off.

Those living there were maintaining the old traditions, but every city that had been rebuilt was full to capacity and new constructions were consuming up the available landspace as fast as the population was growing…leaving no room to repatriate Gnar from offworld. Paget was here because he was assigned to function as an intermediary with Star Force, who would not be allowed a foothold on Yavit for an embassy even if they asked, which they hadn’t.

Paget’s duty was here…and here he would stay until he completed it. If he failed he wasn’t going to the homeworld and he’d be forced to live out his remaining days cramped up here as the Gnar population had to be forcefully restricted. That was a huge insult to his people, but logistics were finite. He’d arranged several land purchases in his career over the past 73 years, one region on this world and some bits and pieces on others. It had been costly, but those bargains had given the Gnar a little more breathing room…which they quickly consumed.

He knew everyone was having population growth problems, save for Star Force, but it made no sense why they couldn’t expand to the empty worlds the lizards had left behind. No sense at all!

And it wasn’t an issue of price. Star Force wasn’t entertaining any bargains unless a race impressed them, and the Gnar had long been an adversary. It was true, they relied on Star Force markets more heavily than he wanted to admit, but the Gnar were mostly independent with their own economy and industry. Trade with other races was fair to heavy, but with all prices concerned they had to use the Star Force transit network for most of their shipping.

They had not allied themselves with Star Force though. No formal trade deals or bargains of any kind. What business they did with them was simply as customers…aside from the deals Paget was trying to strike now. He was trying every angle he could to get a hold on another planet, let alone a system. If and when he did he could move there and live like a king or go back to his homeworld and live far better there than he was here, though most Gnar on Mothere had to make do with far less.

Paget logged into his secure system and filed his report. Failure again, though it wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Star Force could not be manipulated, they’d learned long ago. They held to their own reasoning, and while somewhat unfair they were at least notoriously consistent. It was said it was just a matter of finding that special deal that would suit both parties, but even when the Gnar were willing to pay a ransom for a single planet Star Force would not even discuss the matter other than to politely say ‘no’…and that cocky politeness was infuriating on its own.

Paget found something on his desk to grab and throw into a wall, not caring what it was. He hated Star Force, as well as his inability to find a way to give them what they wanted in exchange. For it seemed they wanted nothing at all, and had the military power to hang onto those empty worlds for as long as they chose.

Some would say they deserved it for doing the impossible, but that didn’t help Paget. The ADZ was packed full of people, with the Gnar only being a small sliver of that whole. They had to expand at some point, whether Star Force liked it or not, else there would be a catastrophe in the making…or a revolution, if only that were possible. Paget would have pursued that agenda if possible, desperately wanting to, but he knew as well as everyone else how dominant they were. There was no way to beat them, militarily, economic, or otherwise, and the few small groups that had been so arrogant as to try had been quickly and hilariously slapped down.

That was where Gnar had gotten one of his small territorial acquisitions from. The Traxloni had openly rebelled, and as a result had a third of their territory confiscated. They’d been lucky that Star Force hadn’t outright annexed them as they had done others, but they were so small and pathetic it probably hadn’t been worth their time.

And they could do the same thing to the Gnar in the ADZ too if they chose, but Paget knew them well enough to not have to worry about that. Don’t cross them and there was no danger, but he had to find some way to get his people, or at least himself, out of this population time bomb.

By the time his food was ready he hadn’t had any epiphanies as to how to do that, so he ate with that not improving his mood much, but at least his stomach was no longer empty.

Two weeks later he traveled back to the neutral zone between regions and to a different Star Force city, against his liking, but he needed to meet with a contact that preferred to operate out of the Star Force facilities, citing they were ‘cleaner.’ Paget almost blew him off for that reason, but at this point any leads on available new territory were too important to pass up so he accepted the solicitation and went to meet with him in one of the many public courtyards.

His contact was a Critel, but one not working for their government. He identified himself as Crojack and requested a less public location to talk within, with the pair agreeing to relocate to a nearby restaurant where they could get a private booth. Crojack ordered an expensive beverage but Paget declined, not wanting to bother with adjusting his mask to accept liquids, and he wasn’t here for social niceties anyway.

“What it is that you have to offer?” Paget asked directly, and in English, given that that was annoyingly the widely accepted trade language within the ADZ. His version included a synthesizer in his mask that gave his words a more intimidating resonance that was by no means an accident of technology.

“A large financial risk with potentially great reward…in the way of new territory to colonize.”

“Such things are hard to come by in the ADZ,” Paget floated warily, expecting to get nothing out of this, but having to pursue all leads regardless, “and Star Force is locking down all former lizard territories aside from those going to their allies and pets.”

The Critel inclined his head dubiously. “They did give the Gnar not only a world, but a full system.”

“That was ours to begin with,” Paget all but hissed.

“The lizards may have never colonized it, but they did drive you from it and you never returned on your own.”

“We couldn’t until they were gone.”

“Then the lizards possessed it by defacto. Star Force took it from them and gave it to you.”

“If you’re here to sound the trumpet to the generosity of those hoarders then this conversation is already over.”

Crojack held up a hand to forego any such theatrics. “I merely point out the truth. We work with Star Force well, so long as we remember their motivations. They deal fairly, without exception, though it does take some thinking to be able to see that in all cases.”

“Who are ‘you’ exactly?”

“We are an organization of…entrepreneurs who have a host of business acquisitions. We collectively call ourselves the Hradeiti. Perhaps you’ve heard of us.”

“Vaguely,” Paget said, remembering a few rumors of a powerful faction that had been working through shadow corporations and across many different races’ borders.

“We like to keep a low profile, but we’ve had some up front dealings with Star Force in the past. Including acquiring a single world in a system they control in what used to be Nestafar space. From there we’ve been doing a great deal of scouting, particularly along the lizard border that oddly Star Force won’t touch. We haven’t been able to determine why, though we have asked them directly…and received a direct reply.”

“They won’t go any further coreward,” Paget said, already having heard that.

“Yes, odd as that is. Perhaps they’re being prudent and not trying to expand too fast, but they have assured us that that border is essentially fixed and they do not intend to go any further. Not even if they should be able to conquer every lizard system from here to the rim.”

“I highly doubt the truth of that.”

Crojack shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps not. The indication is clear that they’re not pushing in that direction any time soon, but will keep the lizards from encroaching on this side of it…and all without charging us denizens for that protection, I’ll remind you.”

“Do you have a point in this?”

“Yes, I do. My organization is building an army and navy and require financial and material backers. We’re not asking the Gnar devote soldiers or ships, though if you were of a mind to we could have a different discussion. No, we’re seeking financial assistance to build up a significant enough force that we can take a system away from the lizards.”

It was a good thing Paget hadn’t gotten a drink, for he would have choked on it at hearing that.

“Are you insane?”

“Savvy, we think. We’re gathering the resources and personnel to do just that, costly and risky as it will be. But if we succeed we will have access to new worlds that will be divvied up amongst our investors.”

A server came to their booth and dinged, with Crojack opening the privacy door and accepting his drink. He took a sip and closed the translucent panel again.

“The lizards are technologically stronger than ever before. How do you expect to take a system from them now?”

“We have cleansing beams.”

Paget was taken aback. “How?”

Crojack shook his head. “You don’t need to know that. But I can assure you we have the blueprints and are currently producing said weapons to outfit our new ships with.”

“And you think Star Force will let you use them?”

“Actually, we’ve already informed them and got their blessing.”

“What!”

Crojack nodded. “We acquired the designs through a, shall we say, black marketer and developed them to an adequate level with our own prototypes, at which point we reported the transaction to Star Force, showed them what we’d built, and asked for their counsel. With our information they tracked down the technological leak and sealed it off. That’s beside the point, but while they are still adamant about no one getting that technology from them or their allies they gave us an opening. It was a gamble, but we had hoped for as much.”

“Do they know what you plan to do with it?”

“Yes, we fully informed them. They laid down a strict set of rules and the penalties that would incur for even the slightest violation…but that’s just normal for them. You know how they work. We have their permission to use them against the lizards and no one else. Aside from the single system we possess and anything beyond the border, we’re not even allowed to move those warships through ADZ space, nor conduct operations with or against any other race. Like I said, they were strict on the provisions, but they gave us a window of opportunity.”

“To attack the lizards? More like an opportunity for suicide.”

“They pretty much said the same, but they’re willing to let us try. They also said we will get no help from them whatsoever…unless we succeed. They said any system within 50 lightyears of the border, if we’re able to take it, will be extended into their protective bubble.”

Paget couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I know, it sounds crazy, but it’s true. They may not be going after the lizards in that region, but it seems like they’re in favor of someone else doing so. We don’t stand a good chance, but if we can mount a large enough force and take a system quickly, before the lizards can call for reinforcements, it will be ours and Star Force will keep lizard reinforcements from coming in and smashing us.”

“What’s their definition of take?” Paget asked, still not believing this.

“Full naval control and a stable foothold on at least one planet. Enough to know that we will eventually take it if no reinforcements arrive.”

“That’s a huge task in and of itself.”

“But doable if we pick the right system, and we’ve already been scouting out the region.”

“How did your ships not get destroyed?”

“We’re careful, and our gravity drives are Star Force models. They still won’t sell weapons, but we can put the two together ourselves. We have three targets in mind that are soft enough that we think we might have a chance at, but we need backers, the right backers, to build enough of a military force to take it and take it quickly. That is the biggest risk, but the reward would be immense.”

“How many pieces will the planet be cut into?”

“We will be dividing surface area into 32 regions, water or not. With sufficient backing from the Gnar, I can offer you one of those and up to 5 if you’re feeling very generous.”

“Water does us little good.”

“We haven’t settled on a target yet, but we’re not counting water regions. Those we’re retaining unless someone specifically wants one. But remember, it’s not just the surface. It’s orbit as well.”

“I’m well aware of that. Who are the other backers?”

“For the moment I’m keeping that to myself, and none of what I’ve told you is public knowledge. I’ve come here because I know the Gnar have had bad blood with Star Force and you’re anxious for new territory that they won’t trade to you. While Star Force has promised to extend their protective envelope out within that 50 lightyear region, they will have no presence there other than orbital defense assets if they so choose to locate them there. This will not be an Alliance World. There will be no economic tug of war. It’s a chance to get away from Star Force entirely…defense considerations aside.”

“Surely they made you agreed to a code of conduct?”

“They did, which we will enforce, but they will have no infrastructure present. This will be entirely our world to do with as we please, and to share with who we please.”

“If you can take it, and that’s a big if.”

“Yes it is. I’m not disputing that. We’ll have one chance to take the system, and must come in with overwhelming numbers. If we fail, we’ll not have enough backing to try again…unless you guys get even more desperate for new territory.”

“A one shot operation then?”

“Indeed. Is that something the Gnar would be interested in considering?”

“How much time do I have to think on it?”

“Plenty. We can’t build a military overnight. This will take decades to plan and prepare.”

“It’s worth looking into, though at first glance I’m not comfortable with the odds. Cleansing beams or not.”

“Fair enough. We’re not optimistic either. It’s a challenge to overcome, but we think it’s doable with enough resources and insight.”

“Let me run this by my homeworld, along with any additional information you can provide.”

“There is none…as of yet. We don’t want to advertise this unless we succeed.”

“And if you do you’ll try for another system?”

“Only if our wishes come true.”

“And Star Force has sanctioned this?”

“More like not interfering with it.”

“They truly expect it to fail?”

“They’ve said as much.”

“And if our military wanted to assist?”

“We can’t supply cleansing beams, but we can potentially incorporate you if you’re willing to adhere to our rules. A sloppy assault is a failed one. We have to be professional about this, so we can’t take chances. That said we’ll incorporate everything of benefit that we can.”

Paget signaled for the menu and ordered a drink for himself, cautiously feeling optimistic. “Tell me more of this world you’ve already secured.”

5

March 3, 3139

Utia System (Occupation Zone)

Ventress

The Gnar convoy of 18 small jumpships ended their slow microjumps into planetary orbit, seeing only a single, but sizeable starport in orbit. Further off, three additional planets were full of Star Force infrastructure, yet this planet was mostly barren. The starport was of standard Star Force make, as were pieces of the cities on the planet below, but the ships in orbit and the rest of the infrastructure was a mix/mash of different tech cobbled together in seemingly random fashion.

Paget hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. He was wagering everything on this endeavor, not just his people’s resources and a good chunk of their treasury, but if this scheme didn’t pay off his position within the governmental ranks of the Gnar would be over. The potential return on investment was too good for him to pass up though, so here he was, far from even his cramped home on Mothere, intent on making a personal inspection of the Hradeiti operations. It was too late to back out now, but for his own sanity he needed to see that this wasn’t a colossal blunder.

He wasn’t impressed with what he saw from orbit as the convoy was guided into a parking slot near the starport. There they waited for necessary docks to open up before the shuttles could start hauling over their cargo, and it wasn’t until they’d orbited around to the far side of the planet that he noticed a very large region had been colonized.

Using the jumpship’s sensors, which weren’t great for surveillance but adequate for navigation, he saw several large cities in addition to huge swaths of construction. What they were building wasn’t obvious, but he guessed there had to be millions of people down there. The Gnar had done a full investigation of the Hradeiti before they’d agreed to this deal, but none of the reports that Paget had read mentioned anything about this…then again, maybe they’d never actually come out here to do any checking.

Relying on secondhand information again. Why the intelligence division had to be so sloppy he could never understand.

Eventually a much smaller ship disconnected with the starport and freed up a dock, to which one of the Gnar jumpships began disgorging cargo ships to in a long line of continuous slow motion. It took some time before that line began to return with empty holds to cycle back and get more cargo crates. Paget knew unloading took forever, but at this rate he’d be here long enough to birth another 10 infants!

Deciding not to wait, he contacted the Hradeiti to demand a guide and access to the surface for his inspection. Surprisingly he got an immediate response along with a set of coordinates and an offer for pickup if he didn’t have a dropship available. He declined the second part and took to the planet in his own craft, eventually landing in the largest city on the planet and being met at the spaceport by a Calavari dressed in a uniform he didn’t recognize.

“Welcome, Gnar,” he said without sarcasm. “My name is Numshet. On behalf of the Hradeiti I am here to give you a tour of our facilities and to answer any questions you may have.”

Paget had to stare up at the Calavari, who was nearly 3 times his own height. “My fleet is offloading the materials promised. What exactly are they going to be used for? I saw no shipyard.”

“Unfortunately no. We haven’t progressed to that point as of yet. Our current battle fleet is being constructed via contractors in other systems. We’re taking Star Force commercial vessels with strong gravity drives and refitting them into warships. We will do the task ourselves in time, but right now it is more economical to work through them while we utilize surface based shipyards to construct our own smaller vessels,” he said as he lead the Gnar into the city.

“What size are we talking about?”

“Destroyers and smaller.”

“You use Star Force ship designations?”

Numshet nodded. “The core of the Hradeiti military is made up of former Star Force soldiers.”

Paget stopped in his tracks. “You mean to say this is all a clandestine Star Force operation?”

“No, not at all. We’re all ex-Star Force.”

“You personally?”

“Yes. I served some 14 years in the Calavari military as a naval officer. We never got paid, and I prefer credits, so I went looking for opportunities to put my skills to better use. I was in the employ of the Tennichoo mercenary unit for two years before being offered a position here. I haven’t regretted the decision.”

“Are you currently fighting? The Hradeiti I mean.”

“Yes we are. Attacking the lizards with an inexperienced army would be suicide. Right now Hradeiti units are engaging in mercenary work far from here where life is more lawless than Star Force will allow. I just returned two months ago from such a tour.”

“And the results?”

“We’re picking up some extra credits in addition to gaining battle experience, for both our personnel and getting the chance to field test and tune our equipment. It’s a worthwhile endeavor.”

“Who are you fighting for?”

“A range of small client worlds without the resources to support their own militaries. Most of the assignments are not complicated, but we’ve been picking a few out that are to better test our capabilities. It’s a work in progress, and those of us who’ve seen combat with the lizards know our troops aren’t ready yet. They’re getting there, but there’s a lot to do before we’re going to go up against that buzz saw. The lizards adapt so fast that we have to be equally as nimble, in both movement and thought. They are a formidable opponent, else others would have attempted this already.”

“What Human commands the Hradeiti?” Paget asked, assuming despite assurances that this was indeed a Star Force offshoot that they were actually getting other races to pay for!

Numshet shook his head. “None. We have no Humans in the Hradeiti.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Is that a rule?”

“It is, actually, and one of the demands Star Force insisted upon. No Humans are allowed to join.”

“For what reason? They think this enterprise is doomed to fail?”

“No, though they’ve pretty much said as much. But those of us who’ve been in Star Force’s military know that’s also a way of challenging us into getting ourselves ready. Leave it up to corporate types and they’d have us charging in there and getting slaughtered. No, the Hradeiti are not going about this clumsily and recruiting as many civilian and ex-Star Force personnel as we can get. But we’re not allowed to recruit or accept Humans. And that’s a permanent stipulation.”

“But why not? I don’t care for them, but it seems an odd thing to insist upon.”

“They insisted on a lot of things, all of which point us into having to do this on our own up until the point where we actually beat the lizards. Then Star Force will help us maintain what we’ve taken…so long as it’s within a 50 lightyear border zone. I think the suggestion is that if we manage to do this, and repeat it regularly, that we might venture beyond those 50 lightyears, at which point we will be operating totally on our own.”

“But why not just move laterally to stay within it?”

“We probably will, but if there’s a valuable target just on the other side of the line we might consider taking it. Personally I think they like the idea of others going after the lizards. The Preema already are to great effect, not to mention the Voku. Adding in smaller allies to the fight isn’t such a stretch of the imagination. The 50 lightyear border allows us a foothold to grow, then if we choose we can venture out truly on our own.”

“I have heard little of these Preema. What do you know of them?”

“Very powerful and very far away. They want to kill the lizards before they can get to their doorstep. I’ve never seen one in person, nor have many others. They are engaging on the far side of the occupation zone and further in towards the core.”

“Is that why Star Force isn’t pushing that direction?”

“Even when I was in the military I didn’t know the full answer for that. I can say that they’ve got their hands full and then some with all the systems rimward of here. The lizard empire has already been split in two, so it makes sense to apply all their strength on one half of it, especially when that half has their homeworld.”

“But these systems are far closer.”

“But not as critical.”

“Do you think this border is temporary then?”

“We’ve been told it is firm.”

“I don’t understand then.”

“Nor do most people, but it has given us a sense of normalcy. There are two Clans fighting on the border and taking a handful of worlds, so it’s not entirely fixed, and they’ve been given permission to push out as they can. It may be that this border is being used for training purposes. I don’t have any other answers to give to you about it, save to say that there is an opportunity here and will be in the next century to come. Beyond that I do not know what will happen. Star Force says the border is fixed, and they’re not known to be liars.”

“If they were they’d lose their pristine credibility. So they let you and others do their dirty work for them?”

Numshet laughed in a booming voice as they stepped into a lift car. “We are nothing compared to them. They could sneeze and take out a star system by accident. No, there is no comparison. But they do like seeing others improve and take on tasks for themselves, so them giving us this opportunity makes sense. They don’t trust many, but they’re giving us a chance to prove ourselves and we are not going to waste it.”

“Who is in charge then?”

“We have an executive council, but the leader of the military is Bra’shom. He’s ex-Star Force as well, and has an extensive history of fighting the lizards. He’s not a naval specialist. We’ve got a few of those too, thankfully.”

“You don’t count yourself?”

“I only served a few years. Bra’shom fought with Star Force for over 300 years.”

“Why the change then?”

Numshet shrugged. “You’d have to ask him. We all have our reasons.”

“Is he also Calavari?”

“No, he’s Scionate.”

Paget hesitated as the lift doors opened again and the Calavari began to walk out. “Scionate?”

“Yes,” Numshet said, stopping and looking back.

“Aren’t they overly aggressive?”

“Perfect for fighting lizards, wouldn’t you say?”

“And unstable.”

“Not if they fought in Star Force, they’re not. Many people say the same about the Calavari,” he noted as Paget finally followed him out and they passed more people in the corridors than before. As stated, they were a mix of races but without a single Human in sight.

“Perhaps. But if some of my people are to offer their combat skills, how will they be integrated. We do not have your…size.”

“Any troops wishing to join the assault must first become Hradeiti. We will not be fighting a joint action. Too many command issues and inefficiencies. Make no mistake, this is not a sure thing. If we don’t do everything exactly right we fail and probably die in the attempt. And even if we do fight well, there’s no guarantee that we will win…which is why we have to come in with a superior numerical force just to have a chance. If Gnar wish to join we can make use of them in naval and aerial roles, but not ground troops.”

“That is probably wise.”

“Wise we must be, which is why the executive council is trying to get as many ex-Star Force personnel as possible, not just in the military but in all aspects. Half the council is also ex-Star Force.”

“What other backers have you acquired?”

“We have numerous corporations and 19 races, including the Gnar. We’re hoping to double that number in the coming years.”

“What’s the largest race?”

“The Reen.”

“What do they want here? Haven’t they got enough worlds already,” he grumbled.

“I don’t think there is ever ‘enough’ when you have growing populations. They are contributing a fair amount of resources to us, nothing over the top as far as what they’re capable of though. They’re treating this as an experiment. If we come through with the first system, they’ve promised far more support. Others have said the same. If we can start taking planets we’re going to be in the position to turn this into a very lucrative business.”

“Land for sale…and worlds that most of our ancestors would have passed on, this rock included.”

“Admittedly this world isn’t pretty to look at. No native lifeforms, harsh climate, but the air is breathable and we’ve got some large lakes. The rest of the planet is pure land and room for us to establish the type of infrastructure we need to fuel this crusade. It’s a home and base of operations, and like Star Force taught so many of us, if you live inside closed cities the outside environment doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

“A lesson everyone in the ADZ has learned given our shortages. How did you come by acquiring this world anyway?”

“I do not know that. I was recruited after the transaction had been made.”

“You never asked?”

“There are mixed rumors, but it seems that most people do not know.”

“Isn’t that odd if most of you are ex-Star Force? I thought you liked to keep things in the open.”

Numshet laughed again. “That’s an outsider’s point of view. Star Force has many secrets. The difference is they don’t lie to us about them, they simply don’t say anything at all.”

“A lie of omission?”

“No. Keeping your mouth shut isn’t lying. And there are a lot of things they won’t say.”

“Such as?”

“Like why this border is firm. They’ve just stated that it is and pointed out a few benefits of it.”

“What else have they not been open about?”

“Ever hear of an Arc Knight?”

“No. What is that?”

“Something that doesn’t appear in the public databases, but they’re rumored within the military. I saw one once, just for a moment in passing, so I know they’re real.”

“What are they?”

“Elite Knights, but whose existence is kept a secret. No denials that they exist and no corroborations. It’s a subject that won’t be officially discussed, and there are rumors of a great many other ‘things’ in Star Force that are present but not acknowledged. You only hear about them if you’re on the inside, but they never pop up in the databases. They’re secrets, not lies, and if you’re not specifically looking for them you’ll never know they exist.”

“This is common?”

“Hard to say, given that even we don’t know other than by personal experience. Lots of rumors, I only know of this one to be true. Someone probably knows why the border is firm as well but I don’t, and you can’t go look it up in the database. Hence it stays a secret to the masses.”

“Still a form of lying.”

“I can understand why outsiders would say that,” Numshet said, taking mild offense. “Until you’ve been in Star Force you don’t, and won’t, understand it.”

“And the Hradeiti have patterned themselves off of it?”

“Trying to, but we don’t have their tech level.”

“I was told you have cleansing beams?”

“That we do, and that is the only reason why we stand a chance against the lizards, but there is so much more tech that they don’t sell to the public that we really need. Like armor. We’re building our own and upgrading it as fast as we can, but it isn’t Star Force grade. We also need naval drones, but we’re having a hard time creating the command and control systems.”

“Why is that important?”

“So we don’t die when our ships get blown up in combat.”

“Sacrifices are necessary in warfare.”

“We appreciate the contributions the Gnar are making, but do not tell us how to fight,” the Calavari said with mild disdain. “You are putting your money on the line, not your lives, and if we do not handle this wisely you’ll lose your credits too. We know what we’re doing, and what we have to do. The more we can hold to Star Force combat philosophy the better equipped we will be to handle this. We will not be using tactics and methodologies of other races. Sacrifice is not a virtue within Star Force, nor is it in the Hradeiti.”

“That’s a naïve philosophy that Star Force clings to, but beside the point. You have to make this work, and as long as you do I will not argue your methods.”

“Thank you,” Numshet said sarcastically as they came to a rail car. They both stepped inside the small clear pod and the Calavari input a destination solution. Within a moment they were passing through the dark tube and the two were alone, with the car lit by only a group of small interior lights within the hard, clear bubble.

“My people have invested heavily in this endeavor. We will lose a lot if it fails.”

“The same is true of others. And we have no intention of failing.”

“Has a target been chosen yet?”

“No. And it would be pointless to do so now. We have to wait until we are ready to fight, then see what worlds are the weakest. The lizards are continuing to build defenses as we speak and things change from year to year. We won’t know where we’re going until we’re ready to go. And there are a great many options to choose from.”

Suddenly the car shot out through the exterior wall of a building and was traveling on a suspended rail through the city so that it looked like they were flying and Paget could see both above and below them with a nearly unobstructed view.

“We’ve built a lot thus far,” Numshet commented, “but we’ve still got a long way to go.”

The Gnar nodded, impressed at what he was seeing up close and starting to feel better about the chances of this operation actually succeeding. “How soon until you get a proper shipyard?”

“Within the decade, I’m told. When that happens we won’t be expending so many credits on custom work. We’ll have our own work crews recruited by then and save a lot of credits in the process.”

“Where are we headed?”

“To the Executive Council. They wanted to speak with you personally.”

“Why?” he asked, surprised.

“We want our investors to understand what we’re doing and why. Star Force-inspired openness. This isn’t a con nor an ill-advised endeavor. We’re serious, they’re serious, and the more people know that the more investors we’ll get.”

“So long as you don’t reduce the cut the Gnar will get.”

“Slots for the first world are already filled. Future investors will be getting smaller divisions of slots the Hradeiti are holding for themselves or on future worlds, assuming we can take the first.”

“That’s a big assumption,” Paget pointed out.

“Yes it is, but we like challenges,” the Calavari reminded him. “We may be ex-Star Force, but that part hasn’t changed a bit.”

6

November 29, 3148

Utia System (Occupation Zone)

Ventress

A Scionate wearing a Star Force-style uniform walked into the Executive Council’s small meeting chamber. More of a workroom than audience hall, it was where they conducted most of their business and ran the Hradeiti, organizing the continual influx of personnel and adding them to the planet’s working population. There wasn’t much of a civilian element present, for the planet had been devoted to a singular purpose and everyone allowed here was devoted to carrying it out.

Bra’shom didn’t envy them that task, but he did relieve them of the duties for the military portion of the project. That was the most important element, and the Executive Council made sure that he was getting everything and everyone he needed to build and sustain the military. That was their role, along with diplomacy and dealing with clients and investors. The ongoing mercenary work was being arranged by the council then handed off to the military to complete, and the two aspects of the Hradeiti had a good working relationship, which was a prerequisite for attempting an endeavor such as this. Let politics creep in and they’d be doomed.

Fortunately the councilors knew this as well and kept such things at arm’s reach and confined to outsiders, both of which were kept away from Bra’shom so he could focus on what was needed without distraction.

“Good news or bad news?” a Critel councilor asked.

“I cannot speak to our fortunes,” the Scionate said as he walked the few steps across the small room to stand before their V-shaped bank of seats with them surrounding him on three sides, “but I am hesitant to say that I believe we are entering our operational window. I do not suggest we go now, but I am here to report that if we did we would have a chance at success against the weakest of the lizard targets.”

“You feel the navy is sufficient?” a Protovic asked.

“Our coordination is adequate. I still worry about the jamming of our drones, but given the hybrid structure we’ve developed I believe that we would still be capable of fighting. It wouldn’t doom us, and we still have the laser backups. Short range line of sight would enable us to instruct the drones to attack specific targets. Our efficiency would take a hit not being able to selectively choose, but such jamming would not be a deathblow. We’ve simmed several such scenarios.”

“I was speaking more to the size of the fleet.”

“I can always use more ships, but right now I’ve got enough if we pull back our mercenary teams. I do not suggest we do that, but it is time we start looking for a suitable target.”

“You’re that confident?” another Critel asked.

“Yes. But it has more to do with configuring our forces for a specific target rather than us being ready to go right now. We might be able to take a number of worlds right now, but I need to know which one in order to specialize future ship acquisitions and ground attack equipment. If we keep building in general fashion it will take us longer to get to what I consider sufficient strength to overwhelm. Right now it’d be a fair fight, and we can’t let it be a fair fight or we’ll lose most of our forces in the effort. We not only have to take a world, we have to have the forces to defend it and move on to the next. We will not sacrifice what we’ve built to attain a target knowingly, but once we engage we will go for broke.”

“I understand the distinction,” the Calavari councilor noted. “What kind of specializations are you referring to?”

“Specifically what type of orbital defenses the lizards have. How much orbital bombardment will be necessary. I do not want to use the cleansing beams, or rather I do not want to rely on them. I intend to use mass weapons to take down surface shields in a region.”

“Railguns?”

“More like throwing an asteroid field at the surface. We cannot afford to waste ships slugging it out with anti-orbital batteries. Star Force has more options than us in that regard. I need to know how many anti-orbital batteries we need to take out to secure a surface site and how strong their shield strength is in order to determine how many asteroids we need to collect or construct. We have a few launchers already, but if we need to build more I need to know how many more to order constructed. Too few or too many will waste our resources and precious time. The lizards are growing stronger and we need to take at least one world to secure our future in this endeavor. The longer we delay the more difficult it will become, and you all know that the lizards’ growth rate is exponential.”

“Your timing is impeccable,” a Gardeen said, tilting its head fin forward in a deferential gesture. “I’ve just secured confirmation from Star Force that the Mevis System is a legitimate target.”

Bra’shom’s eyes narrowed. “Why am I not familiar with that system?”

“Because sometime in the past 3 years the lizards decided to start a new colony on it.”

The Scionate gestured to the councilor on his left and the Critel brought up a starmap. The whole of the lizard boarder along the ADZ came into view in the center of the V and Bra’shom stepped back as the pinprick of stars surrounded him. Ninja Monkey territory shown as a tiny swath across the center of the border, but a single dot highlighted far from there and much further down the galactic plane.

“We got a scouting update passed on from an independent trader going off the main route from Shirpon to Velcor,” the Gardeen explained, referring to a Calavari commerce system and one of the few races within lizard territory that hadn’t been targeted. They occupied an otherwise toxic world and thus the lizards hadn’t seen fit to eliminate them. They’d been keeping a low profile since the surrounding systems had been conquered and many speculated as to whether or not they had an arrangement with the lizards. Regardless, they produced a number of compounds that were rare in the ADZ and a healthy trade route had sprung up connecting back to Star Force territory…all made possible by independent traders and others brave enough to run the border and lucky enough not to get picked up by a lizard patrol.

They avoided inhabited lizard systems, taking several possible routes around the hot spots and adding distance to their journey in exchange for anonymity, but one point on one of those routes was now blocked in so much as the lizards now had a presence, if not a stellar blockade, in the Velcor System.

“A single surface colony seen at extreme distance. The trader didn’t stick around long, but they did detect two cruisers in the system in addition to surface activity on the only marginally habitable planet. Desert climate, adequate atmosphere. We dispatched a proper survey ship and it recently reported back this.”

The starmap altered to a single system view with side panels with tactical data and surface highlights. Bra’shom saw three different colonies on the planet’s surface, as well as a small shipyard in orbit. Protecting the system was a fleet of some 83 cruisers…too many to have been produced locally. They’d obviously sent in additional ships to prop up the system defense, but that number was so low it wouldn’t do much to bother Star Force.

“Why was I not made aware of this earlier?”

“We were not sure if it was a valid target, so I wanted to run it by my contacts in Star Force first before I bothered you with it. They have said it is a legitimate target, but cautioned that this might be a trap.”

“Will they still back us if we secure a surface foothold?”

“If we can eliminate the defense fleet first, yes. I got confirmation of that two days ago.”

“Then why didn’t you contact me two days ago?”

“We know most of our veteran troops are currently on assignment and it’ll take time to recall them. Sending our other forces now to take advantage of this opportunity would be reckless, so we assumed we had time to discuss this and the repercussions until we met with you again. Now you have and we’re informing you. Please take no slight in this, we are simply concerned that this opportunity may be too good to be true.”

“We’re worried that we might jump in to find a fleet of 1000 or more ships,” the Protovic said. “This close to the Star Force border, less than 100 cruisers is too low to be secure. Do you concur?”

“Yes I do, though it may not matter. The lizards are unaware of what we’re doing here, I assume. So long as we seize the system sufficient to Star Force’s requirements our mission will be accomplished. Whatever the lizards are attempting to do will be irrelevant.”

“What of the lag time between our conquest and Star Force arriving to defend it?”

“We won’t need the full fleet at these current numbers. As fast as lizards build, we have to jump on this immediately. How recent is this scouting report?”

“28 days old,” the Gardeen reported.

“This is too good an opportunity to pass up. We must move now.”

The Calavari frowned. “Are you certain?”

Bra’shom nodded his large head firmly. “If the lizards are going to further reinforce, we would be better off taking them now than waiting. The number of ships they can pull in is far greater than what we’re capable of doing. If we can take this system, consider it a warmup for a proper assault on another. A stepping stone to our full plans coming to fruition, and a quick way to pay off existing investments and garner publicity. It won’t be the grand invasion we’ve been planning, if we’re lucky, but we cannot pass on this or delay…otherwise it will become a larger battle.”

“And if they land a large fleet there before you arrive with, arguably, our second string of troops?”

“Then we withdraw. We can send a scout ship in first, wait in a nearby empty system for the results, then move in if conditions are favorable. That will diminish the window for reinforcement to days. Star Force must be notified though, so they can add the system to their defense zone and have a fleet nearby in case the lizards counterpunch quickly.”

“Are they going to put a permanent fleet on guard for us?” a Critel asked.

“I do not know for certain,” the Gardeen said, glancing at Bra’shom. “They simply assured me of protection if we reach the requirements.”

“They’ll have to,” Bra’shom said with a nod. “I would not worry about them so long as they are notified. They will hold up their end of the bargain.”

“Are you certain of this?” an Irondel asked from his elevated platform. “We have built up so much that we cannot risk this on a gamble.”

“Trust me,” Bra’shom insisted. “If this data is genuine, we can go now and pick this world from the lizards at little cost to us. Even if they have a larger fleet arrive, they will not have anti-orbital batteries covering the planet. This data indicates only two, and we can set down our troops outside their range and begin an assault overland. We can secure a foothold with ease, and so long as we are successfully advancing on a lizard city and not getting our asses kicked, Star Force will sanction the endeavor and back us up. I cannot urge you more. This is a limited window of opportunity. Our troops are ready. We must go now.”

“Then I’m sorry we didn’t bring this to your attention immediately,” the Gardeen apologized. “Go and make this happen,” he said, exchanging confirmation glances with the other councilors.

“Contact Star Force and make sure they’re aware of what we’re doing,” Bra’shom insisted.

“We’ll take care of it,” the Calavari promised. “Take whatever preparations you need and go. Waste no further time discussing with us.”

Bra’shom nodded and spun around, trotting out the door and quickly making his way through the command building.

“I am glad we are ready to seize this opportunity,” the Irondel stated. “He is right. This will score us our first victory even if it is a cheap one. It will not be a full test of an invasion.”

“Do not minimize it,” the Calavari cautioned. “Whenever you engage the lizards in combat you must be wary.”

“I will trust you on that,” the Irondel deferred, seeing as how the Calavari was the only councilor with battle experience against them, “but it is not a fully protected planet.”

“And we are not Star Force. We need to attack now, but this will be a tough fight. We will probably lose people.”

“Even if we send every available ship?”

“The lizards do not surrender. They will ram us if needed to do damage, and we do not have dampening shields.”

“But we do have drones,” a Critel argued.

“Yes, but the lizards are crafty. I believe our blood will be shed in orbit before we even get to ground. When that is the case, never minimize the assault. We know a more inhabited world will be far tougher, but this is for real. Not another mercenary mission. This is the war Star Force has been fighting since its inception. We’re just starting with a tiny corner of it. Be grateful, but do not underestimate the enemy. To us or our investors. If we are to err, let it be in overestimation.”

“Wise words,” the Protovic agreed. “Now let’s get this underway and prove ourselves to Star Force. If this is enough for them to count it, then they are surely not underestimating the threat.”

“I’ll handle the contact,” the Gardeen offered. “The rest of you see that Bra’shom is expedited as much as possible.”

“Do we tell the investors beforehand?”

“No,” the Calavari said quickly, drawing a few looks from the others. “This is a Hradeiti operation, and let’s keep it in-house this first time out. If we succeed we can show them the vids afterwards.”

“And if we fail?” a Critel asked.

“We won’t. But we may get a bloody nose. We need to learn from actual combat with the lizards using our tech and our troops what it takes to beat them before we start advertising to the ADZ that we can do this. Star Force can beat them, the Hradeiti are unproven. Let’s not make any proclamations or predictions this first time out.”

“And our mercenary teams?” the Irondel asked.

“Let them finish their assignments and return as scheduled.”

“I agree,” the Protovic concurred. “We need to be cautious about this. Keeping it in-house until we know what the outcome would be is the prudent course.”

“No point in bragging before an ass kicking,” the Gardeen said sarcastically. “So let’s not jinx ourselves. Quiet we will be until we get Bra’shom’s post battle report.”

The councilors nodded, coming to a consensus.

“I’m off then. Let’s make this happen,” the Gardeen said enthusiastically as everyone rose from their seats/pedestals…then a few sat back down as the others left when they realized their work required these consoles.

They were all eager and untested as Hradeiti, even those who had come from Star Force. This was an entirely new ball game, and no one knew for sure how it was going to play out without the Archons leading the way. They had to prove themselves, and as the time now rapidly approached, no one knew for sure what was going to happen.

7

February 17, 3149

Velcor System (lizard territory)

Inner Zone

The Hradeiti assault fleet jumped into the system without incident, finding the situation the same as what the scout sent ahead of them had returned to the rendezvous point with. There was one inhabited planet with a fleet of 85 cruisers sitting in orbit, two more than the initial survey, but that was probably due to surface yards having completed two of the ships under construction.

85 cruisers wasn’t anything to disregard, but Bra’shom knew it could have been much worse as he watched the high orbit transmissions from the current scout around the planet as it broadcast intel back towards the star where the rest of the fleet was still arriving. He didn’t know how they’d react. Come out to the star and try to attack them there? Stay in planetary orbit and fight just above the atmosphere? Go in atmosphere and retreat back to the surface? The lizards could do a number of things, but as soon as the fleet made its way around the star and into view of the enemy sensors, assuming they didn’t have any stealthed monitoring satellites with eyes on them now, they were going to see that they were heavily outnumbered.

The Scionate paced around the bridge of his flagship, monitoring the crew and various displays, though it was really just his way of impatiently waiting for his full fleet to arrive at the jumppoint. His battleship and three other identical converted cargo jumpships had led the fleet into the system ahead of the 168 naval jumpships carrying the rest of their attack fleet. Most of those had arrived by now, with only a handful left that would be followed up by the supply ships and those carrying the ground forces.

He was proud of the Hradeiti fleet they’d built, and even though most of the more experienced ships/units were not here he was confident that those that were could get the job done with a wide margin of error so long as a relief lizard fleet didn’t jump in on top of them.

Right now the jumpships were unloading their warships, most of which were crewed, but 18 of those jumpships were carrying remotely controlled vessels of Hradeiti construction. They had no internal living spaces whatsoever, making them expendable if need be, but the rest of the warships had people onboard and ranged from corvettes up to cruisers. The drones were all cutters in hull shape, but they carried weapons equivalent to their destroyers. Only the battleships were capable of jumping between systems on their own, meaning that if the relatively unarmed jumpships were lost a lot of people would be stranded here.

For that reason Bra’shom couldn’t leave the bigger ships behind at the star and push in for a quick attack on the planet. The lizards were going to know they were coming, and he hated giving them that head start. They were dangerous enough improvising on the spur of the moment. Give them time to see his fleet and prepare a strategy against the unknown vessels…the very thought of it made him cringe. He might be ex-Star Force, same as a chunk of the senior officers on his ships, but the vessels themselves were not. Almost all of them were conversions of other vessels, many of which had not been warships to begin with.

Others were, though they’d had to be modified to get them up to a respectable caliber of both weapons and defenses. Not enough armor, shields, and countermeasures was typical of warships sold in the ADZ. They were all engines and weapons, useful in going after pirates or defending convoys with just their presence. There were no full scale wars going on within the ADZ, so there was a considerable lack of shipbuilding savvy outside of Star Force that the Hradeiti had to compensate for.

They’d purchased the ships from various manufacturers, then had others rebuild them to their liking up until they had gotten a working shipyard capable of doing that themselves. Right now that still incomplete shipyard had taken over producing the drone warships in its own right, which were coming in quite handy on the frontier mercenary missions that they were currently testing them and their troops in…though those were all small scale engagements. Nothing even close to 85 lizard cruisers.

The two control ships for the drones were converted jumpships, both armed to make them combat capable and heavily armored to allow them to take quite a beating, but they didn’t have the kinetic stopping power of dampening shields. That was a Star Force tech that hadn’t been shared with the ADZ despite it not being a weapon. The shields that were available to the public were solid, multi-purpose models and every ship in the Hradeiti fleet had been outfitted with them for just that reason, but if you had to stop a kamikaze cruiser you needed dampening shields, meaning Bra’shom had a very real concern about losing crews if the lizards turned and rammed something other than the drones.

The key here was to beat the lizards in this first engagement before they could learn enough about the Hradeiti ships to exploit their shortcomings. No Star Force ships had entered the system with them, but for some reason he didn’t doubt that they’d be here when needed…if they could secure orbit and a foothold on the planet. The Hradeiti hadn’t been told where the help would be coming from or in what form, but he knew Star Force wouldn’t go back on their deal. How soon they’d get here after confirmation was made was the question mark, so the fleet commander knew he might have to hold off lizard reinforcements for a short period of time on their own if those reinforcements were already on the way here for scheduled operations rather than in response to a distress call.

The system did NOT have an interstellar communications system, meaning that a ship would have to be sent out to alert others and Bra’shom intended not to let any of their jumpships get away. If a cruiser wanted to make the slow trip that was one thing, but their big, fast carrier ships could not be allowed to get escape.

But where were they now? The scout in high orbit wasn’t showing them on this side of the planet. Were they sitting on the other side or somewhere else within the system? Or were they off to other locations and not needed to be sitting and babysitting this planet? Were they even now bringing more cruisers back here to supplement the defense fleet?

That last option concerned him, but if they truly weren’t here then there would be no distress call going out in any effective way.

When the last of his naval fleet arrived he left a few ships at the jumppoint to defend the incoming cargo and army ships and immediately took the rest of his 2,384 ships out from the star in an orderly microjump into middle orbit around the planet and well above the cruiser formation that was obstinately not moving. Even when it was obvious that they were outmatched they didn’t alter from their parking orbit, which concerned Bra’shom. Did they have some larger plan in the works? Or did they just want to see who it was coming into their system.

His ships were unknown models to them. Was it possible that other races with similar vessels were dealing with the lizards? If they weren’t sure the Hradeiti were enemies that could explain their lack of movement.

The Scionate felt the odds of that were low, but he couldn’t understand why the lizards were just sitting there.

He kept his fleet on station until all of them came out of their microjumps, then he got his formations arrayed as he liked, with the battleships leading the way and the drones pacing them ready to be shot on ahead if needed, but otherwise being held back so they wouldn’t be targeted initially given that they were the smallest of the fleet’s ships.

Then the lizards moved.

All of them, almost in synchronous movement, dipped down and headed for the atmosphere.

Damn them. So much for reckless charges to the death.

They’d guessed correctly. Bra’shom’s fleet wasn’t built for atmosphere. They could head down after them but their maneuvering capabilities were going to be hampered considerably, not to mention the fact that their hovering rates were average to bad and they’d be eating up a lot of fuel just to hold still, let alone trying to maneuver and chase down the lizard ships that were much better in atmosphere.

Then we make them come to us.

Of the three cities on the planet, only two were covered by the pair of anti-orbital batteries. Bra’shom put his fleet into a descending trajectory to get them into low orbit hover at an angle to the third city that would leave the big guns around the curve of the planet and out of range. If they came down directly over the city they’d be just within the firing arc, but offset themselves and the planet itself would shield them from the phaser fire that he knew his fleet could not stand up against. If he had to take down a lizard city shield, even a small one, before they could directly attack an anti-orbital gun, that gun would tear through too many of his ships to be worth the effort.

But so long as he had a city that he could bombard without taking return fire he was going to make the most of the opportunity…and see if the lizard cruisers would just sit out of range and watch him slowly destroy it.

The asteroid chuckers had not accompanied the fleet. Those ships and their painstakingly accumulated ammunition had been left behind at Ventress and saved for when they’d need to punch a hole in an anti-orbital grid. Here that wasn’t necessary, so they were going to use the cleansing beams to sting the defense shield enough until it gave way and they could pummel the city with impunity.

Or not quite. As his ships set up and began firing their fire pale white lances down at the planet on a steep angle, missile plumes sprouted up around the city’s edge and a wave of long range weapons could be seen tracking their way.

Bra’shom wasn’t worried. Against other ADZ warships those would be a serious problem, but the Hradeiti had painstakingly outfitted all of their ships with ample anti-air defenses for just this reason, not to mention the need to defend themselves when they were in atmosphere against the lizards’ wisp aircraft.

Bra’shom had to wait for the missiles to cross some 179 miles before his ships’ defenses were within range. The lachars bit out at the missiles and chewed them up gratifyingly, not allowing a single weapon through to one of the other battleships that seemed to be their singular target.

“Well done,” he told his bridge crew. “First test passed. Now let’s get that shield down,” he said as another round of missiles came at them, a much larger one this time, but it to failed to get through the fleet’s overlapping cover fire.

“Here they come,” a Critel officer announced, with Bra’shom noting as well that the sensors were indicating that the lizard cruisers were no longer staying near the planet’s surface. They were redirecting back to orbit in order to meet the attackers before the city’s shield could go down. When they got closer another wave of missiles shot off, with the intercept time going to be just after the lizards got to the ships.

“First priority is those missiles. Do not let them through,” he underscored. “Cease bombardment and focus all cleansing beams on the leading lizard cruisers. We have to take them out fast or we’ll lose ships. Bring the drones up to flanking positions and order them in to cover for retreating ships. Full cycling protocols, people. I don’t want any ship losses that can be avoided. We have a numerical advantage, so let’s make use of it.”

Even as he said the words he knew they were still in jeopardy. Not in losing the fight, but in getting their nose bloodied. And from their incoming tracts it looked like the battleships were going to be the primary targets.

Go for the big ones first? Fine with me. Come right into our guns and we’ll get this over with quickly, he thought, though his gut disagreed with him. By the time his brain recognized the problem it was too late to do anything.

The missiles the lizards had fired were now blocked by the leading lizard cruisers, which allowed them to get more than half of them to their targets before the warships blew past the battleships, firing as they went, then disengaged and began running back down to the planet.

The missiles slammed into one and only one of the battleships, not Bra’shom’s flagship, but the one situated to his left. He watched in horror as the lizards’ phaser shots weakened its shields enough for the missiles to punch on through and blast into the armor plates. Some of the cruisers, even now under heavy fire, circled back around and closed to pointblank range to finish off what the missiles had left. Those six cruisers were destroyed, along with two others that didn’t escape the mass of cleansing beam and lachar fire coming from the Hradeiti fleet.

More cruisers were damaged, but still mobile and retreated down into the safety of the atmosphere despite a few ranged cleansing beam shots hitting home before the distances grew too great to target accurately as they flew in an evasive path.

The Scionate snarled with contempt, cursing the lizards as well as his own overconfidence. One of his four battleships now sat, mostly intact, but with craters blown into it from all angles. More than a third of its mass was missing and now debris floating into nearby ships, but the overall shape of the ship was still there, now looking like a zombified version of its former self, with no active weaponry nor a connective comm signal.

“Organize search teams,” Bra’shom growled. “If someone is still alive on that ship I want them off there now! Meanwhile commence orbital bombardment again and redeploy the fleet into formation Gamma 7. They’re not pulling that move on us again.”

The Scionate paced around the bridge, waiting as his orders were carried out and the pale white lances began connecting with the distant spot on the planet’s surface again. More missiles came, but no cruisers with them, leading them into an overwhelming anti-air response that didn’t allow any to get through. The lizards were probably firing them off rather than losing them when the shield collapsed, which it did less than 12 minutes later under the sustained assault.

Lizard shields had gotten considerably stronger over the years, but even with his vastly inferior fleet compared to Star Force standards, they were more than the defenses could hold out against. When the circular plate went down they immediately targeted the shield tower, ensuring that it was destroyed and would not be regenerating another charge. After that they hit the largest buildings and as many smaller targets that they could given their accuracy limits.

After that they just pounded the location repetitively, hoping massed shots would compensate for lack of pinpoint accuracy and eventually hit everything in the city that needed destroying. Without explosives the damage was more needle strikes shooting through buildings and carving out holes, meaning the structures would still be there afterwards, more or less, unless Bra’shom wanted to stay up here and waste so much energy that even the buildings would be ground down into the orbital equivalent of sand.

As much as his ire would have approved of that he knew they couldn’t waste ammunition…even in the form of reactor power that fed the cleansing beams. There were two other cities that needed destroying and they both were under the protective umbrella of those anti-orbital batteries that could wreck half of his fleet before they got through the shield and took it out.

He almost regretted leaving the asteroid chuckers behind, but knew what he had to do. Landing ground troops was the best way to take out those guns, after which the fleet could pound the two cities into dust at their leisure, but he still had the enemy cruisers in atmosphere. He had to get rid of them before this system would be secure, and right now they didn’t seem inclined to rush up and fight it out.

Damn them. They didn’t control orbit until those ships were neutralized, and he didn’t dare risk landing ground troops with them in play. One cruiser could wreck their ground forces in short order if left unchecked. So what was he going to do?

He really didn’t have a choice. Time was on the side of the lizards. Eventually one of their ships would arrive, bringing with it additional resources, reinforcements, or just the ability to jump out and rouse a call for help. The initiative was with the invaders, but so was the responsibility of finishing this fight before it could escalate. A stalemate was a loss, so Bra’shom had to act.

He wasn’t going to waste his ships against that gun. Better to retreat and admit defeat than spend the lives of his crew like that, not to mention the waste of ships.

No, they had to take the gun via the ground, and to go to ground his troops were going to need naval cover…

“Bring in the troop ships,” he ordered. “It looks like we’re taking this fight in atmosphere whether we like it or not.”

8

Chamsen sat in the tiny cockpit of the hovertank he’d been training in for the past 3 years, rolling in formation with six others as they raced across the desert landscape, keeping the dunes between them and the lizard cruiser sitting almost on the ground outside the target city. It was staying low enough that that anti-orbital gun could cover it, so that if the naval fleet eased up over the curve of the planet to shoot it they’d have to face the big gun too.

That was a stalemate as far as the naval battle went, but with that cruiser parked there they were going to have a damn near impossible time fighting their way past it on the ground. Knowing this the fleet commander had ordered an unusual attack, which Chamsen and his tanks were getting in position for while about half the fleet crawled over land to stay below the anti-orbital gun’s firing depression.

They were going to have a low ceiling to work with…a very low ceiling, but it was the only way to remove the cruiser ahead of Chamsen’s tanks, not to mention the others that had parked themselves around the perimeter. Plenty of dunes were providing them cover, meaning that the fleet was going to have to get very close in order to get open firing lines on them.

As was prudent, the naval drones were going in first with the manned ships following up, but there was also a large contingent of wisps and lizard tanks to deal with as well. It would take a while, but they could take down a warship if left to chip away at it long enough. Not to mention the limited perimeter defense turrets…all of which were sitting underneath a high, flat shield that was blocking the city against orbital bombardment.

A few minutes ago a missile attack was conducted, probing the lizard city and seeing that they did have anti-air capability, for the missiles were knocked down before they hit any buildings. That meant the Hradeiti fighters couldn’t go in there just yet. This was a mess of an assault, but the Calavari didn’t know any better way to go about doing this without Star Force backup…which they weren’t going to get. The Hradeiti had to do this on their own, and he just hoped they hadn’t bitten off more than they could swallow on this one.

When one of the drones came around the side of a dune that shallowed out, it immediately drew pink phaser fire from two nearby cruisers as it responded with a single cleansing beam and a series of lachars, the latter of which glowed bright red. Following it was another drone, then a larger destroyer, and that was all that Chamsen could see before his tank formation ducked behind another mountainous dune and turned to the right following a bit of a valley as the big ships began slugging it out at nearly pointblank range all along a 10 kilometer line.

The 6 tanks were outside the northern end of that line, heading towards a washout that would lead them directly to the city’s nearest point. Fortunately there was no wall around it, meaning all they had to do to get into the buildings was to drive right up to them. But there were plenty of defenders in the way, so while the big ships occupied each other’s attention the tanks snuck around and got a firing line on one of the perimeter turrets that was pumping phaser shots into a warship somewhere off to the far right.

Chamsen flew his tank out wide of the sandy hill, making room for the others to get firing lines on it as well. He held his weapon secured until they all got into the open, then together they shot dual heavy lachars at the turret, hitting it with 12 red beams within the first second and blowing armor plates off like it’d been hit with a shotgun. The second salvo silenced the weapon, but the tanks didn’t stop there. They blasted it until the turret was visibly junk, then they pulled back into the cover of the dunes before a cruiser could take a shot at them and moved on further through the sandy canyons looking for their next opportunity for a sniping attack further away from the brawl that was attracting all of the lizard cruisers, the rest of which were abandoning their positions on the other side of the city and flying directly over it to come down on the Hradeiti warships.

By the time Bra’shom’s battleship pushed its way through the tip of a sand dune in order to stay below the firing ceiling of the anti-orbital gun the fight was already old and with multiple ships from both sides laying broken on the sand. The bigger cleansing beams his flagship carried leapt out immediately, drilling two pale white daggers into the side of an already damaged lizard cruiser and cutting a swath through it as one popped out the far side and tattooed one of the city buildings beyond.

A giant pink beam passed within 20 meters of the top of the battleship, missing it and streaking off into the distance behind the fleet as the big gun tried to get a glancing shot in. Fortunately it wasn’t as big of a gun as the ones he’d seen in action in the past, and wasn’t situated on top of a huge tower. This one was lower to the ground with several buildings actually interfering with its lowest firing lines. Depress as it could, the battleship was still under its firing line and Bra’shom was glad his crew were holding to that navigational mark meticulously.

Seeing all the devastation and ongoing carnage playing out before him, the Scionate figured they had the lizard cruisers beat. They were getting hit hard in the process, but they had numbers and the city defense turrets weren’t adding a lot to the fight. It looked like this is where the lizards were planning to make their last stand, and…

Suddenly Bra’shom saw one of the lizard cruisers dart forward, digging into the sand to the left of his battleship but he knew it wasn’t a crash course. The ship got hit by several lachars while the cleansing beam gunners were focusing on a pair of cruisers ahead that were pounding away at the forward shields. That let it get through all the way underneath the bigger ship, wedging itself between hull and sand and breaching the battleship’s shields with the contact.

The phaser beams now started hitting armor from the pair in front even as one of the cruisers lost half its weaponry as a cleansing beam cut a critical power conduit. Bra’shom wasn’t worried about those ships, but he was scared as hell to have that cruiser underneath them. If it had a self-destruct it could…

Suddenly the battleship began to gain altitude, and before Bra’shom could order full thrust down the cruiser pushed it up enough that another thick pink beam leapt out from the city and punched straight into the forward hull, burning through the armor there in a flash and cutting a tunnel half the length of the ship that blew out with the vaporized material into the surrounding decks.

The bridge was about 30 meters away from the beam trace, which was too close. The whole leftside wall exploded and Bra’shom got slammed in the rear as it blew him and the rest of the bridge crew to the far wall in a load of shrapnel and heat that killed them all within a matter of seconds.

Commander Tyree was standing on the bridge of another battleship a couple kilometers to the south of the flagship when he saw it rise up above the combat ceiling and get slammed by the anti-orbital battery at maximum depression. It took him a moment to realize that there was a lizard ship underneath, crumpled and half buried in the battleship’s hull, but it had obviously pushed the warship up into the firing line.

“Damn them,” the red/green Protovic swore, immediately punching buttons on his chair’s control console and assuming command of the fleet. With that he opened a comm channel to all ships while sending out his own placement orders and reconfiguring the alignment as he saw fit. Bra’shom hadn’t been an idiot, but Tyree had learned to fight differently and if they were going to get the fleet through this they had to take a different approach.

“All ships, beware the cruisers diving beneath you. They just killed our flagship by moving it up into range of the city’s big gun. Drag bottom on the sand and push all gravity drives down if they do manage to undercut you. Crush them into the ground. If you drift up you’re good as dead anyway, so don’t worry about the damage to your ships. Smash them no matter what it takes.”

“Helm, we’re going in. Follow the course I give you and please be accurate,” he said as he ordered six of the remaining drones into flanking positions, being flown by pilots in orbit, while the rest of the fleet continued slugging it out. “Scrape bottom on approach, I don’t care how much armor you grind off.”

“Are you sure about this?” the helmsman asked, seeing the course just given him.

“I trained directly with Archons,” the Commander said with all confidence. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, sir,” the Calavari said as he surged the battleship forward and slightly north, dipping it down to drag on the ground while the drones shot ahead of it and targeted the nearest cruisers. The battleship poured all its firepower into one of them, taking down its shields with a couple of cleansing beam hits then ignoring it at the last moment as a course correction brought the bow around to face the city directly. Speed poured on and the battleship traced a line through the sand heading directly for the outer buildings.

The lizards saw it almost immediately, but the drones fired on and, in two cases, physically blocked the cruisers via collisions, getting slightly on top of them and using their engines to bury the front edges of their ships down into the sand, pinning them in place long enough for the battleship to slide between the outer buildings, ramming the edges of two further in as the gap became too narrow.

The shields held up for a few seconds, carving out furrows in the lizard towers before the armor itself began to grind against them, with it holding up far better than the lizard building materials. The battleship forced its way into the city while staying low enough to avoid the big gun’s firing line as waves of wisps suddenly appeared and started firing down on the ship from above.

Tyree didn’t call for air cover, knowing that they’d be hit with the city’s anti-air turrets as soon as they got in range. No, this was a task for the big ships…and right now they only had 2 battleships left.

Punching their way through building gaps too narrow to hold the big vessel, the Commander forced his way up to the fat turret that held the anti-orbital gun, parking the front of his ship almost in contact with it and giving one of his cleansing beams a direct firing line at it while the wisps, tanks, and ground-based turrets chewed away at his armored hull plates.

The cleansing beam shot out, melting through the turret’s armor plates and cutting its way inside while tracking to the left a few meters. The beam cut out, going through its recharge cycle, then picked up exactly where it left off and extending the cutting line a bit further. Again and again it fired while the rest of the battleship’s weaponry shot any and all vessels within range, including a pair of cruisers that flew up over the buildings but underneath the protective energy shield to take out the battleship before it could finish off the gun, but numerous cleansing beams angled up to tag them as they made themselves easy targets for the creeping Hradeiti fleet outside the perimeter.

One of those fell on top of the battleship, albeit not intentionally. It slammed down on top, damaging both ships but not moving the larger vessel more than a few meters down and doing nothing to stop the forward cleansing beam from continuing to fire. A few minutes later and Commander Tyree gave the all clear long past when his gut told him the gun was dead, not wanting to make a mistake.

He ordered the battleship to rise to test his theory before anyone else did, and the big vessel had to apply a lot of power to shove the cruiser off of it, which fell into and pancaked a nearby building leaving the Hradeiti ship with a huge chunk bitten out of the top of it.

Gaining enough altitude to clear the buildings but still staying below the shield cap, the Protovic ordered all weaponry to pound the turret and the exposed firing mechanism on top even as a few more cruisers headed towards them. If it could get off a single shot he had to prevent it from killing any of the other ships, and his battleship was already thoroughly trashed. Take out the gun and this battle was going to shift suddenly, making it the primary task even as the pink phaser lances cut into his shieldless ship from multiple sides.

The gun didn’t fire, didn’t toast his battleship, with Tyree knowing he had succeeded but needed to take out another target.

“Helm, get us to the shield tower. Take it out with whatever weapons we have left, and be prepared to ram it if necessary,” he said as multiple thumps were heard from behind the bridge. “I think we’re going down regardless.”

As he said that a couple of destroyers flew in behind them, targeting the cruisers and leading a flow of other Hradeiti ships into the city now that they didn’t have to worry about the big gun. Fortunately the shields covering the shield tower itself weren’t too difficult for the pair of big cleansing beams that the battleship fortunately still had functioning to take down, then the rest of their weaponry and some missile streaks from a frigate punched into the side of the tower and suddenly the shield above them disappeared.

“All ships, get some altitude. Primary target is the cruisers. Swarm them with cleansing beams.”

He turned to look at his helmsman. “Keep us on the deck. If we go up I have a bad feeling we’re coming back down real fast. Find some place we can land soft.”

“Outside the city?”

“If you can get us there. Gunners, take down everything you can on the way. We’ve accomplished our mission, everything else from now on is bonus.”

“Sorry, Tyree,” a Calavari voice said over the comm. “We’re not going anywhere.”

The Commander frowned and looked at the display screen that was now only operating off of battlemap relay, for most of his ship’s sensors were destroyed. He saw their only remaining battleship come racing across the top of the lizard city and tag a nearby cruiser that was doing its best to finish off Tyree’s ride.

The other battleship knocked it down, pancaking another building where it landed, then flew in and took position directly overhead its sister ship, blocking most of the incoming fire while the surrounding buildings helped do likewise.

“Don’t waste your ship trying to save this one,” he complained. “We’re already toast.”

“You’re still in the air and I intend to keep you that way, toast or not.”

“Stupid Calavari.”

“Stupid Protovic. Now shut up and let me save you.”

Tyree cracked a grin that his fellow battleship captain couldn’t see. “Kill the cruisers, will ya?”

“We can do both,” he said, with the cleansing beams continuing to fly and the cruisers now falling like flies under the combined firepower of the fleet as it got back to low altitude and no longer had buildings or dunes blocking their firing lines.

Then he saw it. They both did. A cruiser that was about dead was making a kamikaze run against their position and there was no time to shoot it down. Two more cleansing beams hit it from above but that didn’t stall its momentum as it slid in underneath the intact battleship and rammed Tyree’s already critical ship.

He cringed, waiting for the explosion and getting an earthquake in its place. Most of the bridge instrumentation went out, then a second quake hit that was far worse, knocking him out and down from his chair onto the floor where he smashed his head as the battleship hit the surface.

Tyree got to a knee and looked around, feeling warm blood on his head but still being very much alive.

“Find out what sections of the ship are intact and evacuate there. Unless we have to we need to avoid going out into the city. We’ll be target practice.”

“Intercomms are down.”

“Get the handheld backups. Poll every piece of the ship and find out where we have people and damage,” he ordered, crawling over to the side of his chair and popping a panel out on the bottom of it. Inside was survival gear, including a short range comm device of his own. He reached past it and got a medkit, attending to his own wound while the crew on the bridge were dealing with others more heavily wounded than him.

“I hate lizards,” he whispered as he opened the kit and got a healing patch applied to his forehead.

9

February 19, 3149

Velcor System (lizard territory)

Adrak

Commander Tyree, now onboard a destroyer, had brought in a portion of the other half of the fleet that had remained in orbit while sending those ships flight worth from the fight back into space to keep them from running out of fuel. That included their lone battleship, though Tyree wasn’t going to dispossess Commander Vantrech even if that ship had been suitable for this next assault. It was too big to fit under the defense shield that the lizards had lowered to its minimum height, which was now smashing flat some of the surrounding sand dunes and almost making the third lizard city a sunken pit.

But there were gaps in the perimeter. Too small for a battleship, but without any lizard cruisers in contention or swarms of wisps to counter them, the naval warships had the upper hand so long as they stayed below the firing depression of the city’s main gun. The second city, which was even now under assault by ground troops…or rather what was left of it after they got through 10 hours of point blank bombardment…was still not fully clear as far as airspace was concerned. Landing ships had to come down far from the city and come over land to get into the safe zone, for the final anti-orbital gun still reached out to cover it at the higher altitudes.

Unlike Star Force shields, lizard varieties of this small size were always flat circles placed overtop their cities. That gave them far more strength than domed shields, but left ground assaults with easy access to the buildings. The lizards counted on their own ground forces and wisp swarms to cover that approach, along with cruisers to keep any attacking fleet in orbit where they belonged, but so long as the Hradeiti were already on the ground Commander Tyree figured they might as well hit the lizard base from there as well rather than mount a traditional army attack to take down the shield and big gun.

The lizards obviously knew what they were doing and had lowered their shield height as far as they could, meaning the warships would have to shoot their way through it to get into the city. That would take a lot of time and if they raised up just enough in altitude they’d get smashed by the anti-orbital gun. Some of the dunes would insure that happened, for the only way over them was to climb into range. That left specific approaches that could be used, some with holes where the dunes didn’t meet the shield, so that’s where this small contingent of warships was going while Commander Vantrech oversaw the rest of the fleet back up in orbit.

Tyree wasn’t bringing any troop ships with him, not wanting to split the ground forces and increase the danger to them. If they managed to take down this city’s defenses they could have the fleet in orbit come down to bombardment height and lay waste to it, then move in with the troops later to clean up.

With a few drones leading the way to draw out ambushes, Tyree took his 22 ship task force slowly over land, skimming dunes and being patient as they gradually approached the city traveling in a single file line that curved to and fro in order to keep the minimum altitude as they traversed the dunes. When the first drone eventually came into sight of the curved valley that cut under the depressed shield it immediately came under a mass of pink phaser fire.

Tyree frowned, then saw a cluster of tanks sitting at the entrance as the remote pilots fired back in a one-sided slugging match, but he called off the drone and cycled another one in its place before they managed to get its shields down and do some damage. It took some time for them to swap out without gaining altitude, and both of them had to drag in the sand to accomplish it, but the second drone lowered its shields first to not drain them, then popped them back up just before it came within sight of the remaining tanks and finished them off quickly.

“Send it in and keep your distance. The lizards are renowned for traps,” he cautioned.

A minute later, when the drone dipped under the edge of the shield over top the burnt out tanks their debris exploded…into a wash so big that the drone disappeared and the surrounding dunes blew apart like sand clouds.

“Damn it,” Tyree whispered, glad he’d insisted on sending a drone in first. “That was no tank.”

“No, sir,” one of the bridge crew confirmed. “Looks like explosives planted below ground. A lot of them.”

“Is the drone gone?”

“We’re getting some telemetry, but it’s now immobile and not responding to commands.”

“And blocking the entrance?” he guessed.

“More or less. The dunes have moved now.”

Tyree couldn’t see that on the visuals, for the dust cloud was still covering everything, but on sensors he could see the change.

“Target these coordinates,” he said, manually placing a waypoint on the limited battlemap that the Hradeiti used, “and blast away some more of that sand.”

“With what, sir? We don’t have any missiles. Nor do the drones.”

“Use the cleansing beams and lachars.”

“That’ll take forever.”

“Just widen the gap a bit.”

“Yes, sir,” the weapons officer said, giving orders to the next drone in line to begin firing on the sand to the left of the now dead one.

The beam cut into the sand easily, making a small ‘poof’ on entry, but it sliced right through and out the other side without moving a lot of the material. That small hit up close was a decent amount, but nothing that a missile or other explosive would have managed. More shots were fired, with added lachar strikes of much weaker power, adding to the dust cloud but not doing much for moving the sand around.

“Aim lower. Direct the sand by undercutting its support.”

The beams drifted to the bottom and began slicing into and carving out a ditch, into which a whole section of sand suddenly slid down like an avalanche.

“Better. Keep at it until we get another 10 meters width, then get ready to send the drone in.”

The remote pilot did as ordered, then the firing ceased when a bit of the dune had been removed and the dust cloud was now a permanent resident given that the shield was blocking out most wind from dispersing it.

“Send the drone in and backside that debris. Push it out and clear the passage.”

“That’s going to be a tight fit.”

“Wiggle her in if you have to.”

A moment later the drone began taking fire from the inside as it approached the gap and pressed into the sand so it didn’t scrape the debris.

“Shields are about to go down.”

“Understood. Plow the road even if we lose this one…but don’t give them a second blocker.”

Tyree held his breath, not expecting the lizards to have any more explosives at that spot and knowing the defense turrets couldn’t take down a warship very quickly, even one with its shields down. Before long the junked drone began moving out, visible only on sensors, with the intact drone shoving it from behind and plowing a furrow in the sand until it came clear of the opening.

“Move it aside. Bury it in a dune if you have to,” he said, waiting for that order to be carried out to his satisfaction. “Rotate that drone back and give me another forward, then we follow it in. Rest of the ships after us in tight staggered formation. Light up the sand ahead of us with lachars probing for more explosives. We can’t get caught like that again.”

And then they were moving to the head of the line as another drone shot to scout position and ducked under the shield. Tyree’s destroyer followed, plowing up a bit more sand as it squeezed its larger mass through, then the buildings of the lizard city were visible kilometers ahead on sensors, though the dust cloud in here was still omnipresent. A few streaks of pink were lighting it up, with sensors indicating the scattered perimeter defense turrets as the source.

“Take out those turrets then blast us a course to that big gun. I don’t care how long it takes or how many buildings need to go down. We’ve got them in their blind spot now.”

Scooting less than 100 meters under the shield plane, his destroyer fanned out to the left, zapping the sand in front of it to probe for more booby traps, to allow the following ships to form a line that would allow them all to get into firing position. Once in, all the ships began cutting apart specific buildings to give them adequate maneuvering room up to one of the center streets in the much larger city that would lead directly to the big gun.

Once they were through to that Tyree sent a drone on ahead. It took out a couple more interior turrets that were better suited to defend against mechs than ships, then started chipping away at the big gun from where it couldn’t shoot back. The roadway wasn’t big enough to fit another ship, and Tyree didn’t want to get his fleet pinned in any more than they already were. Eventually the big gun came down, literally, as a chunk of it fell off the southern side as the support frame was melted away by a cleansing beam hit, opening up some interior shots that ended any question as to the gun’s functionality.

That drone then pulled back as another one was already nearing the shield generator. It was more heavily defended, but the attackers had time and the one drone was enough to gradually chip through the lateral shields and get to the armored plates…after which it was just a matter of time until the entire shield plate failed and the city was now open to the air, with a gust of wind coming now and brushing the dust cloud away and returning visuals of the city to the bottom feeding warships.

“Everyone get altitude and start junking cityscape. Orbital fleet, come down to bombardment range and help us toast these bastards. This planet is ours. Let’s get to work cleaning up and the less the ground troops have to do the better. Just leave them someplace to walk afterwards.”

Six days later Commander Tyree was onboard a cruiser that he’d claimed as his flagship, happy to have completed the assault but sorely missing the crews that had been lost, especially Bra’shom. After all he’d done to build up this military it wasn’t fair for him having been taken out in the first battle, but that’s the way the lizards played. Give them any room to backstab you they would, often in ways you didn’t expect, and forcing the battleship up into big gun range had been an inspired tactic, but one that wouldn’t have worked had the battleship crew been quicker witted.

They should have pancaked the cruiser with their more powerful gravity drives, for they were the larger ship and the drives were of Star Force jumpship manufacture, hence top of the line. But they’d hesitated, perhaps not even sure what was going on, and in that moment of indecision the lizards had landed the fleet commander a fatal blow.

Saddened by that and the fact that such a small lizard fleet had given them so much trouble, Tyree had a wariness about him amidst the joy of actually taking a world from the lizards…for he knew their estimates of their own abilities had been greatly overstated. Like him, many of the Hradeiti had been in the Star Force military previously, but for some of them that had been a long time ago. He’d left some 28 years earlier, then been serving in active mercenary units since then, keeping his edge sharp while it looked like others had gotten complacent and forgotten just how dangerous the lizards actually were.

Had the Hradeiti engaged one of the worlds that had originally been their targets…they may well have lost the entire fleet.

That was a silver lining to the losses here, and one that Tyree was going to make sure the Hradeiti did not waste, regardless of whether or not he would retain fleet command in Bra’shom’s absence.

“Incoming ships,” his sensor officer called our warily. “They’re registering as lizard.”

“Where?” he asked, the pit of his stomach sinking as the orbital map showed microjumps ending near the stellar jumpline but well away from the planet. They were lizard cruisers, already at least 20 of them, with more still incoming.

“All ships form up around my position and enter combat matrix 7. Drones to the front and overlap firepower as much as possible. Do NOT individually engage or we’re going to be hurt badly. Get in position quickly and make them come to us.”

The bad feeling he was getting only got worse as more and more cruisers arrived, all holding position near the jumppoint until they numbered some 238 strong. There had to be jumpships near the star that had offloaded them, but they hadn’t delivered them all the way to the planet. Either by design or accident.

Just as well. He didn’t want to have their weaponry added to this mix. They were going to have a nasty fight on their hands even though they outnumbered them 4 to 1.

When the lizards started moving towards the Hradeiti fleet they came in a tightly packed swarm, longer than it was wide, with the obvious intent on making a strafing run and taking out a handful of ships instantly, and he had a gut feeling they would be going for their only remaining battleship or the two drone controlling-jumpships.

But before they could get into firing range a ship winked into existence alongside them, as if in formation but slightly trailing to the starboard. Then another showed up beside it. Neither had microjumped in, they just suddenly appeared on sensors.

Two more did the same to port, and suddenly the lizard formation broke apart and turned on the contacts as weaponsfire broke out against the much larger quartet of ships.

“All ships hold fleet position and center on my flagship, engage with cleansing beams when we come into range. Helm, move us forward casually. Let’s not draw too much attention.”

“Sir?” another officer said, not fully understanding. “Who is that?”

Tyree raised an eyeridge. “You don’t recognize those jumpships?”

“No, sir.”

“Anyone care to enlighten him?” Tyree asked mirthfully as his fleet began gaining altitude while staying in formation, heading towards the brawl that had the lizard cruisers swarming like bees around the four ships that were undoubtedly going to tear them to shreds, perhaps even before the Hradeiti got to them.

“Those are Ma’kri-class jumpships,” a Duramitte said with both awe and respect, having served in Axius for a number of years. The lizard-like grey biped flicked a silver tongue in an odd gesture of respect that Tyree was only starting to get used to. “Star Force was here all along watching us.”

“Where’d they come from?”

“The Ma’kri are rumored to have stealth mechanisms.”

“Consider that confirmed,” Tyree said with pleasure as the lizard ship count dipped below the halfway point. It seemed they were far more interested in doing damage to Star Force than they were the Hradeiti.

“Are we going to help them?” someone else asked.

“We’re on our way, but if my guess is right they’ll be finished before we get there.”

“We can go faster.”

“Yes we can, and as much as I’d like to rack up some more lizard ship kills, do you think it’s worth the risk of them turning on us and taking out a ship or two before they all were destroyed?”

“I suppose not.”

“We’ll help them if this drags on, but I don’t anticipate it will for much longer and the lizards know they can’t outrun those ships. If they turn on us at the end be ready to kill them quickly, but otherwise we’re going to let Star Force do its thing…with our thanks.”

The lizards weren’t completely destroyed by the time the Hradeiti fleet entered firing range, so they got off a few cleansing beam strikes and knocked out two cruisers in killsteal fashion, but when Tyree opened a comm channel to the Star Force ships after the fact they oddly didn’t respond. Just as he was beginning to frown and wonder if there was something wrong with his ship’s comm systems the four Ma’kri accelerated quickly away from the debris and dropped off the sensors save for a pair of tiny specs that disappeared with distance.

“Are they angry with us?” the comm officer asked.

“We did make a mess of this,” Tyree admitted, “but I think they’re sending us a message. This is our assault, not theirs. We’ve staked our foothold and they’re abiding by the terms of the agreement to defend this system against outside aggression, but we’ve still got troops on the planet and lizards to mop up and they’re not going to hold our hands doing it.”

“Orders, sir?”

“We finish what we started and wipe every last lizard off this planet. Then we send a courier back to Ventress and inform them that we have a new planet for them to divvy up…after we collect some of that lizard tech for study.”

10

February 19, 3151

Velcor System (Hradeiti territory)

Adrak

Paget rode into orbit on the first Gnar transport, seeing to his disgruntlement that they hadn’t been the first to arrival at the newly created ‘Communal World.’ It had been given that name intentionally to differentiate from the ‘Alliance Worlds’ that Star Force had set up and on one of which Paget had been living for a long time. The Hradeiti were in sole possession of this planet and star system, and per their business arrangement with their investors a piece of Adrak now belonged to the Gnar.

It wasn’t a large piece, given the size of the planet, but in and of itself it was sizeable. Resources beneath the surface had yet to be determined, but there was plenty of land available to begin colonizing…land that had not been available on the Alliance Worlds anymore. The Gnar colonies there had filled every last square kilometer of their territory right up to the Star Force border strips that would not be present on this planet.

There were some very narrow neutral zones, barely 2 kilometers wide, that would separate Gnar territory from their neighbors, but there would be no Star Force cities there. In fact, there would be no Star Force presence on the planet whatsoever, which Paget took as a refreshing change. They did have one of their seda stations in orbit and a small but visible defense fleet in the system…which was the only reason the Gnar and other investors were willing to take the risk of crossing the old border and going ahead to colonize their investment earnings.

The world was one form of barren after another, but it was empty and that was the main point. The Gnar needed territory to expand into, and while this wasn’t a huge addition it was the first new annexation that they’d been able to make in some time while other races more favorable to Star Force had been growing steadily with new planets given to them on a slow, but regular basis.

But now the ‘not so favored’ had a route to gaining more territory, with the first fruits of the Hradeiti’s labor now visible for all others to see, and the Gnar taking a much more heavy investment in the organization before that new fame drew others in to stake their claim. This was only the first of what would be many lizard worlds taken, and the Gnar wanted an ever increasing share of future conquests.

But for now Paget had a new home to build, with plenty of room for his broodmates and whomever he wished to invite here. The construction would take time, of course, but he was in full control of this new colony and would not be living under the crush of overpopulation here. He was already planning ahead with immigration quotas that would draw off some of the existing Gnar population from their crowded worlds without bringing the problem to his new doorstep, as well as negotiating with the Hradeiti to acquire mining rights for other locations in this star system.

He was going to hit the ground running, so to speak, and it seemed other races were attempting to do the same thing. Tiny surface bases were already springing up across the planet in addition to the single working colony that the Hradeiti had already established, though even it was still in its infant stages. Only the Star Force seda was fully intact and operational, and Paget knew they had to have hauled it here from somewhere else rather than building it on site. Star Force had some impressive construction rates, but not even they could have constructed that large of a station in so little time since this world fell.

Which meant this was also a race to see who could outshine the others, gain hold of what would be the developing economy, and try to tap into the trade routes that were already running beyond lizard borders. If many of them linked here then this location could become a very important one, and the Gnar wanted to be at the forefront of that if at all possible. And if not, they still wanted their piece of the action…so long as it didn’t involve direct military engagements.

The Hradeiti would be taking all the military risks and casualties, while Star Force would be defending this system like all others in the ADZ along this border. That meant with the hard work of keeping the lizards at bay not an issue, the Gnar and others could focus on the opportunities presented here…and the massive cost of their investment in the Hradeiti looked to be an ongoing blessing rather than a risky business venture.

Whatever would happen with future Hradeiti assaults, the Gnar and others still had their first tidbits of new territory to absorb, with the legitimacy that brought with it fueling the Hradeiti into a much larger organization practically overnight.

Fleet Admiral Tyree was summoned to the Executive Council’s chambers as was occasionally the norm now that he was back on Ventress, with the fleet once again in building mode. Both he and the other surviving commanders from the Velcor invasion had unanimously agreed that they were not ready to take on a larger lizard target, but with all the new investments and recruits pouring in there was talk of potential targets already arising and the upgrading and strengthening of the fleet was being rushed as much as realistically possible.

He wasn’t letting them get reckless, but the need for building a proper fleet was painfully obvious. Good against mercenaries was one thing. Good against the lizards…that was something else entirely. The Hradeiti had their first victory against them, but Tyree had made sure the Executive Council was fully aware of how ill prepared they were to take on a larger lizard force.

But they weren’t backing down, rather rising to meet the challenge, though they had a long way to go before they were truly battle ready.

“Fleet Admiral,” the single Lacvamat councilor greeted him as he arrived.

“Councilors,” Tyree greeted as he noticed a few extra bodies in the chamber. Two Calavari and a short Bsidd. He was used to seeing the really big ones, though this one was obviously an Alpha, their middle sized variety that typically didn’t serve in their military.

“You’ve been inquiring about the possibility of acquiring some higher level ex-Star Force recruits,” a Critel said, then gestured towards the three newcomers. “Fortuitously there have been some very high marks within the volunteer lists. May I present Admiral Nashtek, Knight Renkor, and Administrator Tikkito.”

“Formerly,” Nashtek corrected. “When we left Star Force those ranks were left behind.”

“Why did you leave?” Tyree asked, knowing there were many different reasons, having been in the same position himself previously.

“A chance to become trailblazers in our own right, even if on a much smaller scale.”

“I would not go so far,” Renkor said, looking down at the shorter Calavari.

“I meant no disrespect. I merely seek a different challenge.”

“I too,” Renkor agreed. “I can teach your people much of assaulting lizard cities. The ones you took were weak. Others will not be. You cannot rely solely on naval power to defeat them.”

“That I am keenly aware of,” Tyree said with a bit of dark sarcasm.

“If their anti-orbital batteries had been more advanced, the depression rate would have been enough to prevent anything from approaching over 150 meters at the lowest point. That will block your use of naval ships on lateral approach. You must get your ground forces under that line and into the cities directly.”

“Fortunately our ground troops were not thoroughly tested,” Tyree admitted, “but we did lose a fair number of them in the cleanup efforts after bombardment. Many lizards survived, and they were quite vicious and inventive maneuvering around in the rubble.”

“Coordinating with other Star Force Calavari is easy,” Renkor all but boasted. “Training your rabble into a proper assault force will be a significant challenge. I am here for that challenge.”

“Fair enough,” the Protovic agreed, purposely not taking offense at the rather candid remark. He hadn’t had much to do with the ground troops’ training, but he knew they were in bad need of improvement considering that most of them were not Star Force trained…aside from basic combat skills drilled into them in their maturias. But some of the recruits were not from Star Force at all and lacked even that minimum skillset. “And you?”

Tyree had addressed the Bsidd, who shifted its multi-appendaged body around like a bush with the wind blowing through the branches.

“I am here on a temporary basis. One day I will return to Star Force. That is who I am and where I belong. But I also see the opportunity to gain field experience with the Hradeiti that I will not get within the well-polished Star Force structure. The Hradeiti are raw and badly in need of proper organization. If I can succeed here it will be because I have upgraded my skillset considerably.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do here?”

“You are gaining a lot of new material and resources. The larger you get the harder it will be to manage it all. If you are going to develop a proper military, you will need a proper logistical division supporting it.”

The Protovic poked a glowing finger at the Executive Council. “I thought that was their job?”

A Calavari councilor huffed a not displeased response. “We have managed. He will excel. There are no egos involved here, Fleet Admiral. We know we cannot afford any weaknesses going forward. This council will deal with the diplomatic angle and keep the functioning core of the Hradeiti insulated from it. Allow this endeavor to become political and we are all doomed. Fail to advance and acquire a requisite skill level…and the lizards will slaughter us when we attempt to take a larger target. We know we have no room for slackers, and a Star Force Administrator makes us slackers in comparison.”

“Are you on loan then?” Tyree asked the Bsidd.

“No. I quit Star Force of my own choice. They are not sanctioning my being here. But I know that they will accept me back if and when I choose to return. They value skill, and I seek to enhance mine with the experience here.”

“That’s almost cheating.”

The Bsidd regarded him quizzically. “How so?”

“We were told not to allow any Humans. Having a temporary loan of a Star Force Administrator feels like that’s crossing the line.”

“I am not Human,” Tikkito pointed out the obvious.

“But you haven’t permanently left Star Force.”

“I have, as far as they know. My intentions regarding rejoining them are my own. I did not broach the subject when leaving.”

“Are you sure they’ll take you back?”

“Perhaps not at my previous position, but my skillset will be the better for it and I do not mind having to demonstrate my mettle again.”

“As you wish,” Tyree said, deferring his future to his own accord, “I for one am glad to have the three of you here. Especially you,” he said, pointing to Tikkito, “because I need a full fleet retooling.”

“Define ‘retooling.’”

“We need more drones and a better way to employ them. The lizard ships are better than ours, more so than I feared. Either that’s because we underestimated our own strength or because the lizards are subtly increasing theirs. We’ve also got some lizard debris we’re working on, but so far we haven’t been able to crack any big secrets. Don’t suppose you’ve found any scientists for us yet?” he asked the council.

“None of sufficient merit, no,” the Irondel councilor said.

“So it doesn’t look like we’ll be stealing any insights from their tech just yet,” Tyree continued. “So we gotta make do with what we have. And we have to build more drones, better drones, and build them faster. I can’t use our warships in the way originally planned. They’re sitting ducks.”

“Why do you not have a proper control ship?” the Calavari Admiral asked.

“Range,” Tyree admitted. “Our control signals can’t reliably reach far enough to avoid jamming, so we have to keep the controllers much closer nearby. We’ve been using some relays to bounce signals off our smaller ships nearby to cheat that range, but it still requires a manned presence in case of intentional jamming.”

“If you have more drones, then the smaller relay ships will become more obvious targets.”

“Which is why we also need to redesign larger drones to appear to be identical to our manned ships…same way the lizards use a fleet of identical cruisers. They won’t know where the remote control signals are coming from, because they and the drones will be constantly transmitting signals, even if they’re filled with nothing but romantic vids.”

“It sounds like you already have a plan of action then?”

“More like a wish list,” Tyree said, turning to the Bsidd. “Which is why we badly need your guidance.”

“I agree that a proper control system placed onboard a heavily armored jumpship is the goal to attain.”

Tyree spread his hands wide. “If you can do that, please do, but if not we need another method to accommodate our next attack, which is years away, but we don’t want to wait a century while we build. Our investors will need more than that, despite our promises of no guarantees on return of investment.”

“I can put you on a path to whatever goals you wish to reach,” the Bsidd hedged. “But you must determine how you want to fight, not what you’re willing to skim with. You cannot go into battle against the lizards with a ‘just enough’ mentality. You have to have triple redundancies and then a backup plan after that. This cannot be done cheaply, with credits or time, and even if done properly you may still be killed.”

“That we all know.”

“Then allow me to give you what you truly need, over the course of time, no matter how long that may be. I promise I will not delay once a proper goal has been reached.”

Tyree exchanged glances with the councilors, who nodded in reluctant confirmation. They didn’t want to massively delay the next assault, but if it was best for the long term success of the Hradeiti then they were willing to grind their teeth and suffer through it…so long as there was an end game.

“Well then. It seems we need to go back into planning mode. Admiral, are you comfortable with taking a subordinate position? I know your skills probably exceed mine.”

“I am new here, and you already led your fleet to victory once. I do not seek full command. Nor do you need to refer to me by my previous title.”

“That victory cost us our fleet commander, so I technically wasn’t leading the whole time,” Tyree pointed out. “And as for your title, you’re going to need a new one then. Within our current structure there is only one Admiral, that being myself, due to the small size of our fleet. We’ve withheld from granting titles that do not benefit experience, which is why there are currently only two Captains. In your case, however, I think an intermediary rank should be created,” he said, glancing at the Council, “of Commodore until such a time as we have enough ships to warrant a second Admiral.”

“Agreed,” a Council said after a few seconds of silent conference.

“Well then, Commodore. Welcome to the Hradeiti.”

“I look forward to assisting you with building the fleet.”

“As do I. Renkor, I’m appointing you to my personal staff for the time being with the rank of Commander. There are presently three others with an equal title, but you and I are going to be reworking everything as we brainstorm better ways of fighting the lizards on the ground, so consider it temporary. We don’t have any other former Knights, and though it may rub some people the wrong way you’ll have eventual command once we shake everything out.”

The Calavari nodded, but said nothing in reply.

“As for you, Tikkito, you’ll also be on my staff, but at the same time be coordinating with the Council. Odd as that may be, your duties will affect both of us and therefore you’ll be something of a go-between.”

“Acceptable, so long as I have the freedom to make the decisions required.”

“We haven’t had a position suitable for your skills yet, so we’ll have to create one on the spot. I think Quartermaster will suffice?” he asked, checking with the Council again and getting nods in return.

“Quartermaster I am, then.”

“Good. Now, are there other recruits for me to sift through?”

“A long list,” a Critel answered. “We did not want to admit them before you conferred with these three. At present, there are too many applicants for us to accept, therefore we did not make any choices on our own other than these obvious ones.”

“Alright then,” Tyree said, clapping his glowing hands in front of him once. “Let’s get to work. My command ‘den’ is this way.”

“You’re dismissed,” the Lacvamat councilor said jokingly as the four of them were already on their way out the door.

Davis pulled up the recent report of the Hradeiti along with the others regarding the non-Star Force races in the ADZ. There was always something happening there, movement occurring beneath the public awareness, but never visible in an overt way. They couldn’t challenge Star Force militarily or economically, but they were always trying to find an angle to increase their powerbase at Star Force’s expense or by infighting with each other. The blatant wars had ended long ago when Star Force cracked down on such behavior by their ‘guests’ but the sentiments still ran hot and were worthy of keeping an eye on.

The Hradeiti had now become a lightning rod for those undercurrents. Offering them an opportunity to show freely despite Star Force’s involvement in the protection of the newly conquered system. Without that they wouldn’t have dared take a lizard planet, let alone put down business assets there, but with the security assured and Star Force’s gleaming record regarding such things the rats were coming out of their holes and setting up shop for a resumption of their power games now that they had an avenue of expansion that didn’t rely on staying within Star Force’s good graces.

As for the Hradeiti themselves, they were an experiment. Seeing what a non-Star Force race could do against the lizards. It hadn’t been Davis’s idea, though the protection of their systems within the 50 lightyear radius of his border had been his brainchild. It was a way of helping them to get their footing, but if they should ever push beyond that line they would be totally on their own.

If that might happen, and Davis knew it was a big if, then they’d have an ally eating into the lizard systems on the other side of the no-go line, and that concept had interested him enough to allow this reckless enterprise to continue with his blessing. The Hradeiti had been sloppy and lost a good number of ships and people in their assault, but he knew that their having ex-Star Force personnel among them had undoubtedly kept them from completely falling apart. Star Force could easily have taken any system along that border if Davis wanted them to, but if the coreward half of the lizard empire was to be pushed back it was not going to occur by them.

Nor would it be by the Preema, which had apparently wised up to the fact that the lizards were expanding into Skarron territory and elsewhere faster than the Preema were able to cleanse them from the other systems. Combined with the Skarrons’ inability to hold the majority of their lines without Preema assistance, it had led their powerful ally to implement a no-go line of their own. They were burning back the lizard systems to a new border that would keep them well away from Preema territory, but they’d given up on the hope of ever eliminating them all.

That said, the help the Preema had been giving Star Force and the Voku had been invaluable and saved them centuries of fighting, despite their earlier bailing in the assaults on the core worlds. Even now the Voku were hitting one themselves, along with a small advanced warfleet commanded by Paul, but the Preema were keeping well away and going after the smaller lizard worlds and making it clear that the enemy would not be allowed to encroach on the spinward border.

Maybe if they kept on burning out every lizard colony that popped up there the lizards might get the message and focus on other areas…though Davis wasn’t going to put any credits on that.

In comparison, the Hradeiti was nothing more than a blip on the radar, and one so small they weren’t even worth noting, but Davis knew that small blips had the potential to grow and he was going to keep an eye on this one. He’d provided them with the shelter they needed to hold the planets they took, if they were able to take them, now it was just a matter of waiting and seeing what they made of it.

He didn’t expect much of them, but their competence to this point had urged him to give them a chance and see what they made of it. Their first step had been shaky, but they’d pulled through and were now drawing the support of the ADZ in numerous forms. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but the report he was reading indicated that they’d acquired the services of one Tikkito, a Bsidd that Davis was familiar with. He’d never met him before, but he was on a list of potential Monarchs that the Director was monitoring. Him leaving Star Force had scratched him from that list, but it would be interesting to see how he handled this situation.

And with his involvement, the Hradeiti might just have a chance of building themselves into something less clumsy. Time would tell at this point, but no matter how many ex-Star Force personnel they acquired Davis was going to give them no help. They were not going to become an offshoot of the empire. If they wanted to hit lizard systems, then they were going to have to go through the growing pains and figure out how to make it work on their own. Davis hated to see people throwing away lives and ships out of ignorance, but what happened beyond their borders was largely out of his control, and already mercenary groups were seeking out the range of Star Force’s reach in an effort to exceed it.

Better to have the focus for the ADZ’s efforts nearby and under his scrutiny than them leaving to potentially harass native populations when Star Force wasn’t there to insure there was no bad behavior on their part. And while it hadn’t been his idea, Davis found the concept of them taking worlds from the lizards useful in two ways. It hurt the lizards a tiny bit, and Davis didn’t have to worry about the attacks wiping out the indigenous populations…because the lizards always fought to the death no matter what.

If there were reports of torture going on Davis would intervene immediately and shut the Hradeiti down by force, but other than that he was going to take a step back and let them succeed or fail on their own merits. If they wanted to be stupid and assault too strong of a world and got themselves all killed…well, Davis might want to stop that from happening, but he knew that any ally they ‘grew’ on the border had to be smart enough to fend for itself, and that wouldn’t happen if Star Force had them on a leash and kept tugging them away from danger.

The Hradeiti had asked for a chance, so he was giving them that…as well as being able to keep an eye on ADZ activity that would be drawn directly under his ability to monitor. He didn’t want to watch as people got slaughtered trying to attack the lizards, but so long as all these people were volunteers and not forced into this in any way, and they had a safe haven to run back to, then he was going to permit it and see what happened.

Though he always had the ability to send his fleets in to stop it if things truly got out of control…though he hadn’t told the Hradeiti that.

Rammus

1

May 29, 3151

Gavratel System (lizard region)

Outer Zone

As the Clan Ghostblade jumpship moved near the construction site a tiny spec left the opening hangar bay before the dropships did, traveling through the emptiness of space until it landed on one of 18 joined construction cradles that were enwrapping a large skeletal structure that was being slowly added to. Kara walked across the landing bay, her armor unwrapping from around her body as she drew a few curious glances, but by now most people within the Clan knew that she could fly through space on her own and more often than not wouldn’t bother wasting a dropship when she needed to transfer from ship to ship.

“What have you brought for me today?” Vreemont asked, glancing at the huge Star Force jumpship only partially visible outside the open bay doors.

“Those special items you’ve been wanting,” Kara said with a smile. “No more trips back to the ADZ for us.”

The Human tech pumped one arm in celebration.

“How far along are we?” Kara asked as the pair turned to walk off the bay floor as the first of the cargo-laden dropships began to appear as dots moving away from the jumpship.

“We got another 12 shipments of structural materials in while you were gone, so that’s put us a little further ahead of where I thought we’d be at this point. Frame completion is at 72%.”

“How long before the gravity drives are working?”

“Insystem or interstellar?”

“Full working.”

“We’ll need shields before we can start hopping around too much,” he reminded her. “We’re nowhere close to getting this beast truly mobile, I’m afraid.”

“Damn,” Kara said, knowing that as long as they stayed here there was a small risk of detection. They were low on the galactic plane in lizard territory, or rather one of the star systems that the lizards didn’t want and that held no habitable planets. There was little here at all, and what there was was located in the inner and middle zones. Right now Kara had two ships mining asteroids there and keeping a close eye on any traffic that might be passing through the system. They would have no business here and not pay attention to anything beyond stellar orbit, but she didn’t want to be detected at all.

The joined mess of construction cradles was located far beyond those mining ships, beyond the high zone and all the way out into the outer zone of the system where there was literally nothing. Kara wanted it that way, because what they were building was by no means small, and if someone did find and come after them it would take them a long time to get out to where they were without any nearby planets or even small rocks to gravitationally brake against. Her jumpship had to decelerate to a stop by pulling on the distant star, but thanks to Star Force’s advanced drives it wasn’t too strenuous an endeavor, though it did take a considerable amount of time to get out this far while maintaining the ability to stop before going interstellar.

“You hoped for more?” Vreemont asked.

“Given your reputation, yes.”

“Ouch,” the tech said. “Now that hurts.”

She wrapped a friendly arm around his neck, making sure not to squeeze too hard. “I just want my baby mobile, even if all she is is a skeleton.”

“It’s going to take a while, I’m sorry,” he said as she let go. “I’ve got enough gravity drives online to slowly move around the system, but without a larger power core it’s not worth much right now aside from not having to worry about attitude adjustments.”

Kara raised an eyebrow. “Do we need any?”

“Just keeping with paranoid protocol and aligning the axis to point our smaller profile towards the star.”

“Good boy,” she said as they came to a junction and both of them climbed a ladder to get up to the next level. “You getting much drift?”

“Negligible, but every time we connect a new component it nudges her a fraction. The cradles were compensating for that, but the more mass she gets the bigger the adjustments are needed. As of now she can nudge herself back into alignment.”

“Well, that’s something then,” she said, obviously disappointed.

“You weren’t gone that long,” Vreemont pointed out. “Did you pick up any new recruits?”

“A few specialists and a handful of Archons.”

“Any good engineers?”

“Four. They’ll be transferring over on the dropships.”

Vreemont smiled. “Keep sending me as many as you can get. Calista isn’t going to build herself.”

“No, but she’s going to help us build a lot of other things,” Kara said as they got to the command center of this massive construction project…which was no more than a small utility room on the cradle that had been reconfigured with workstations and a realtime hologram set up in the center.

When Kara entered she could see the massive construct with the cradles circling it like spiders with their tethers interlocked and forming a crude cage around it that matched the view from outside, but this hologram wasn’t a visual. Rather it was a schematic that showed varying levels of completeness, the location of individuals and ships actively working on the construction, and the fleet of vessels sitting alongside that were fabricating the components for it and then passing them off to the cradles or delivering them directly to the various worksites.

As she watched, the dropships from the jumpship split apart with most heading for that fleet while a handful continued over to the cradles to deliver specific personnel and the rare compounds and equipment that Kara had gone back to the ADZ to get from Clan Sangheili. Lots of arc elements and solari, plus some special items that the Ghostblade fleet couldn’t yet produce on their own. That would be changing as upgrades were made to her existing factory ships…upgrades that these new bits of equipment would now allow them to produce.

“Are you running into any problems?” she asked, looking at what in time would become a tiny, but mobile Star Forge-class mining station. One that her mobile civilization could haul around from star system to star system to mine the solari and other stellar materials they needed rather than having to rely on their two patron Clans for supplies. Once Calista was fully operational, Clan Ghostblade would be totally independent save for personnel, with their mandate not to house younglings. Every person here was either part of Clan Saber or Clan Sangheili in the records and had grown up in the ADZ, and that was going to continue to be the way they operated.

The Clan’s ships, however, were not from the ADZ. All of them had been built off the books and away from prying eyes. Making the Ghostblade fleet something that didn’t exist as far as Star Force’s computer systems went, with her personnel simply being misplaced individuals of other Clans that were carefully marked as being in varied locations on ho-hum assignments that nobody would notice them missing from. A few extra personnel listed here and there on the master records but omitted from the local ones where an Administrator would notice absent personnel, and you had a way of siphoning off people without anyone else being the wiser.

The Clans knew what was happening, for it had been Paul and Jason’s idea, but aside from the upper management in those two Clans the rest of their populations and even Earth didn’t know about the Ghostblades, including Davis. The only person who was ever noted as being gone was Kara, but it was easy enough for Paul to claim she was out on a mission for him, which she was, but no one knew it was a permanent one or to what scope it had grown.

Tell people Kara was out singlehandedly hunting down lizard warships and they wouldn’t ask any further questions, giving her the perfect cover to build her Clan away from the ADZ…though she wasn’t the only one. Other trailblazers had their clandestine networks in play and growing by the century, and those too were kept off the books, at least as far as the public maps were concerned, but Clan Ghostblade differed in that it wasn’t an operation supported by a Clan, it was a Clan in and of itself, and it had no territory to root itself in. They were all living and working on ships, right down to producing their foodstuffs on the go, and Calista was going to give them the stellar mining power to match.

They’d have to take long stops to activate it, but that wasn’t unusual. Her fleets didn’t keep moving constantly, rather finding and ducking into little dark corners like they were now where the lizards and others never traveled. They’d park here and do what they needed, then eventually move on to reposition closer to their own supply lines or if traffic increased and there was a chance of detection. Kara had fleets moving all over, none of them getting so far away that they’d lose cohesion and their string of courier ships couldn’t find them, but the idea was that if one group ever was found it would only be a small cell of the Clan, with nobody truly knowing how large they were.

Kara knew, and a handful of others, but even most of the Ghostblade personnel didn’t know how many ships they had or where they were other than the small groups they were assigned to and rotated between, nor would they show on any map. Each fleet left a single ship at a rendezvous location, one that Kara knew to find, and with it would be the itinerary of the fleet wherever it was in the nearby region. That way the fleet could move around despite the lack of a relay network that they hadn’t yet gotten around to building.

It was coming though. After they built this star forge they’d be constructing communication ships that would sit at the predictable locations and act as mobile relays, then the roaming fleets could signal to them, knowing their location, and tell them theirs, after which a two way exchange could occur until such time the fleet moved on. That would allow information to be transmitted across Ghostblade ‘territory’ without having to send courier ships…but to get a comm ship big enough it’d have to be seda-sized and they’d need a lot of them to put up a grid across even a small region of space.

That region would travel wherever the Clan went, though as the Ghostblades grew Kara knew she was going to have to get more clever in her structure, but being able to stay in contact was essential should something happen, especially back in the ADZ. She hadn’t discussed it with Paul yet, but she was going to take one of those communications ships and stick it on the outskirts of a border Star Force system so she could tap into the grid and transmit data updates to her Clan without having the extra lag of using courier ships, though she knew she couldn’t transmit back into the Star Force grid without potentially being detected.

And to do all that she’d need a camouflaged communications ship. Yet one more thing on her to-build list, but right now communications was a luxury, not a necessity. Getting the raw materials she needed to build everything was a necessity, and until Calista got up and running she was going to have to keep sucking off of the Sabers and Sangheili for rare materials. That had to end sooner rather than later, and what she’d just brought back would be enough to construct the star forge itself, but there were a lot of other projects like those communications ships that would require a lot more, and until she had her own stellar mining operation they were going to stay in planning stages only.

Kara pulled a datachip out of her uniform pocket and slid it into a receptacle, adding to the cradle’s database a myriad of information.

“What’s this?” Vreemont asked.

“Some new ideas from Jason and a batch of new tech updates from Earth.”

“I love updates,” the tech said, pulling up the files and skimming through them in the otherwise empty room, for all other personnel were off on tasks and busy doing their part to build this monster of a mobile mining platform.

Kara waited, watching his blank face until it lit up like a fireworks display. “Oh my…god.”

“Thought you’d like that one,” she said with a smirk.

“How the hell did Tennisonne do that?”

“He’s good.”

“No…” he said firmly. “This is way over his head. Top level V’kit’no’sat stuff.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. We’re nowhere near to this tech level yet. How is this possible?”

“He found a shortcut,” Kara said deviously.

Vreemont’s eyes were still on the data files even as he was arguing with Kara. “Explain that.”

“He figured out how to do something the V’kit’no’sat never did, though in their defense they never needed to since they didn’t have a full picture of the tech progression. Jason said he’s been working on this for a very long time.”

“I don’t believe this,” Vreemont said, rereading the same summary texts twice. “He’s actually found a way to achieve atomic restructuring without an assembly matrix.”

“Only in a few cases,” Kara added.

“He shouldn’t be able to do it in even one,” the tech said firmly. He wasn’t in the top tier of Star Force’s engineers, the ones doing groundbreaking research to catch Star Force up to the V’kit’no’sat, but he was just below them and had access to everything they did, including shared field notes. Had he not been born in the century he did he would have been in that top tier, but those techs had a head start on him and somehow one of that had just found a way to do the impossible.

“Can we implement those?”

Vreemont rubbed his tongue inside his teeth as he thought. “Not right away, but the compact nature of the equipment required means we should be able to get decent production quotas out of our current hull sizes. The jumpships, I mean. We might be able to squeeze this into a factory ship, but the output would be minimal.”

“Even a little carbon can go a long way…if we rework other items into a carbon base,” she said, referencing the alchemy that Tennisonne had just figured out how to achieve in a few select transitions using what the V’kit’no’sat would have deemed irrelevantly outdated technology, but he’d done it in such a clever way that she knew the V’kit’no’sat would never have even attempted to research down that pathway. They built for the bigger and better, never figuring out how to make do with less. Star Force was middle of the road, reaching for those higher technologies while also being forced to make the most of what they’ve got now in order to grow their empire as fast as possible, but in the case of Clan Ghostblade, doing more with less was essentially their mandate.

As far as the carbon synthesis went, Tennisonne had found a way to take hydrogen atoms and remake them into carbon ones without the energy heavy and extravagant process the V’kit’no’sat used in their assembly matrixes, which typically occupied a 22 mile wide footprint on a planet for even the smallest facilities. They never really had a lack of carbon, which was yet another reason they probably hadn’t discovered how to do what Tennisonne had, with the assembly matrixes more focused on creating exotic atoms that were rare to mine and some that didn’t exist in nature altogether, as well as being able to crank them out in volume.

Tennisonne’s approach had taken inferior technology and found an ingenious way to make the hydrogen to carbon transition with a comparatively low energy application that could be achieved in a facility ideally less than a mile wide, with smaller factories possible but at a significantly reduced output rate. A certain critical mass of machinery was required to make it all work, and Tennisonne’s process was unique to each specific alchemy, meaning that one of his proposed assembly matrixes could only produce one output.

But that was so incredibly valuable for Star Force, not to mention the Ghostblades, that Vreemont’s reaction had not been overstated. And coupled with the hydrogen mining capability that a star forge provided, Kara’s Clan would never have to go looking for carbon to mine again…and if they could convert a lot of the technologies within the fleet to carbon alternates, which other techs had been researching for quite a long time, as well as with other more common elements, then she could retool her Clan to afford a lot more industrial output and not have to worry about available resources limiting their growth, or even repair efforts.

Hydrogen was the most abundant element in the known galaxy, with every star about to turn into a fill-up station once Calista was completed.

Which was why Vreemont was so geeking out right now.

“They won’t be as resilient in most cases, but I agree that carbon is our ticket. We can supplement a lot of load bearing structures with carbon configurations to replace at least some of our corovon requirements if you’re willing to suffer reduced strength.”

“Which is why I’m going to be sticking around here for a while,” Kara agreed. “You and I need to outline what acceptable limits are and see how much of a production advantage we can milk out of this. We also need to reduce the number of elemental components to as few as possible, even if just for a prototype design. If we can one day get them all down to resources we can mine from a star…I want that, in a bad way.”

“And you could just sit in orbit and soak up the energy needed to make the conversions,” Vreemont said, thinking rapidly. “Tennisonne isn’t there yet, and I could tick off a list of things we’d still have to go hunting for right now even if these blueprints were working facilities, but I didn’t think even this would be possible without a full assembly matrix. I wouldn’t guarantee anything, but if we can even just get the carbon conversion working we’re going to be able to build a lot more ships without having to poke our noses into systems we don’t want to.”

“I really want this,” Kara emphasized. “Start working on it whenever you can without slowing Calista down. Without her this doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Mostly,” Vreemont corrected. “There are still other applications available, but I see your point. This is a historic day, to be sure.”

“I know,” Kara said with a smug smile. “Star Force just got a whole lot more powerful.”

2

April 5, 3159

Shemtala System (lizard territory)

Yametren (contested world)

Jaina-61004 jumped to a branch above her head, grabbing hold and hauling herself up on top before repeating the process. She gradually worked her way to the top of the tree, branches scraping harmlessly over her dark blue armor as she got above the tree line enough to poke her helmet out. From there she could see down into the valley and the river below, beyond which there were several smoke plumes…but she didn’t think these were damage related.

The Archon made a quick check of the battlemap again, seeing no lizard assets in the area, at least as far as aircraft and known ground troop deployments were concerned, but there was always a chance you’d run into the little buggers roaming the forest at the wrong time. If they moved quick they might get there before those smoke plumes drew the wrong attention.

She slid down between the branches, falling in spurts until she finally hit dirt with her Protovic unit waiting patiently nearby. With a mental command they all started moving along with her, following in a line 25 people long as the Archon led the way at a run. All were armed and armored with supplemental packs on and had been in the field the past 5 days trying to hunt down survivors from a lizard attack on a Menbati outpost.

For 733 years the Menbati had held off the lizards, having no orbital capability but living in caves and small surface bases often hidden within the terrain, having their population gradually reduced while causing the lizards numerous casualties over the long haul…and Jaina would be damned if she let the lizards get to this group before she did.

The Archon ran hard, but not so hard that she’d leave her troops behind. They weren’t too slow, but they were young. All of them were Star Force Blues, having graduated from their maturia at ‘full color,’ which was how the citizenry had dubbed those that stayed in long enough to earn all of their upgrades. None had earned any of the three additional colors and none would for more than a century, for they operated like Archon ranks, totally skill based with no additional abilities, and were damn hard to earn. As it was these Blue/Pinks were the highest ranking individuals within the Protovic that had their abilities.

The old school Protovic were fighting elsewhere, helping with some of the Core World invasions while the new Blues were pressing into less hazardous lizard territory in conjunction with the H’kar. Right now there was a large H’kar fleet in orbit that had fought through the lizard fleet with the help of a handful of Star Force ships, but they were wisely leaving most of the hand to hand fighting to the Protovic.

The lizards had about 3/4s of the planet when the allied invasion had finally got to them, and in the past 2 months they’d cleaned out half a continent of lizard bases…but the lizards obviously knew their days were numbered so they were making full out assaults on anything Menbati, trying to eliminate as many of their long term nemesis as they could before Star Force wiped them out. Trouble of it was, now that help had arrived, the Menbati were coming out of hiding themselves to fight the lizards head on. Star Force had warned them not to, but given that they’d only just met and communication was sketchy, they weren’t listening.

Lots of Star Force troops were not available for invasions this small, given the amounts needed elsewhere, but the Protovic Blues needed experience so Brad had them out on the ‘smaller’ frontier worlds getting a feel for combat with their new skillset and learning how to make use of it outside of training and challenges. Jaina was one of many Archons here leading the way and watching over them, but 99% of the troops were Protovic with unimpressive levels of combat experience.

They weren’t incompetent, far from it actually, but compared to some mainline units that had been fighting the lizards for over 500 years these Protovic were barely past being newbs and she knew she couldn’t expect too much of them. Throw in their cocktail of abilities that not even Brad had fully come to grips with yet and these invasions were part experiment, part training mission, and part ass kicking…with an added part rescue thrown in on this one.

Jaina broke trail, pushing through the vegetation and grabbing what bits of paths were available all the way down to the river with the Protovic in their brilliant blue armor trailing close behind her, but not so close that they’d trip over her or each other if someone suddenly stopped.

Which she did at the water’s edge. Able to communicate telepathically with them both ways given their own limited mental skills, this unit hadn’t said a spoken word since they’d left their dropship and started searching on foot through the vegetation that had a very high sensor reflectivity value…which was probably why the Menbati had been able to evade the lizards for so long.

Anything above the trees was visible enough, but duck below and even Star Force’s comm range dipped lower than normal. Her unit could still use short range comms and battlemap links if they stayed close, but the nature of this planet made things interesting and Archons excelled in interesting…especially whenever it brought things back to old school. The lizards couldn’t use comms worth a damn out here, but with her range she could telepathically communicate and track her team at a good distance and have them able to answer back at shorter, but workable range.

This wasn’t her first mission with Protovic, and some of these she’d worked with in past weeks, but after 5 days together they were getting used to each other and the telepathic shorthand that Jaina and other Archons working with the Blues had agreed upon using. Even though they’d been around for three centuries, the Protovic were still very raw in some respects, due in no small part to their recent conversion to Blues. That aspect of their faction was still being worked out, and as a result just about everything else had to adjust as well.

But Jaina knew it was worth it. She could work with these Pink Blues in ways she couldn’t even work with Human Commandos. Having telepathy work two way and having her troops be able to spot nearby minds themselves was a huge advantage, not to mention their default running skills that gave them enough of a head start that they could keep up with her at a decent pace…along with other tricks the Archons had been learning.

Jaina planted herself on the river’s edge and mentally coordinated with those behind her within a second. The nearest Protovic came out of the forest at a full sprint with her giving him a telekinetic lift as soon as he came within a step of the water, adding her power to his momentum to throw his blue armor all the way across. He landed on the dirt feet first then tumbled through a somersault as his center of gravity was too far forward. He recovered quickly and got to his feet just as the next Protovic was flying across the river behind him.

One by one they all came across without too much of a gap in between, though the last two barely made it. Jaina didn’t have unlimited telekinetic power and sending 25 across had nearly overtaxed her, but the Archon knew her current limits well enough considering how many times they’d done this already as they crossed the countryside looking for Menbati survivors.

Once she got the last one across she dropped into a crouch then tapped into her powered armor and jumped, getting about a third of the distance across before landing in water and having to trudge her way across as the Protovic rushed on ahead of her as instructed. When she got to the river’s edge and back onto dry ground she took off far faster than any of them could run and started to make up the gap while staying in telepathic communication and guiding them as to which way to head.

Steering from the rear, so to speak, she eventually caught up with the end of the line and started passing them agilely, working her way up to the front of the line and retaking her place. Not long after that she sensed Menbati minds and adjusted their heading. Tearing through the forest she led the Protovic on, wondering when their luck would end and a lizard wisp or transport would show up on the battlemap that was cutting in and out whenever they passed under extra thick tree cover.

When they were almost on top of the Menbati she slowed down, with the Protovic silently matching her speed all the way into the camp. Jaina reached out and made mental contact with one of the locals, letting him know someone was coming and forcing him to calm down and realize it was a friend before they burst into view.

Her dark blue armor slid through a bush and into a sub-canopy clearing that had the brush removed but not the overhead branches. Inside was a group of tents and a campfire that was leaking the smoke up through the trees, with dozens of Menbati getting to their feet as the Archon appeared, followed by sets of brighter blue armor that casually walked out behind her.

She could sense other camps nearby, with probably some 200 or more survivors within her telepathic range. “We are Star Force and were sent to collect you,” she said, using the hastily compiled translation software. It wasn’t that detailed, but was sufficient for basic communication. “We are friends.”

The little armadillo-like Menbati were standing erect about 1.2 meters tall and pointing weapons at the Archon. They were clearly agitated and afraid, but Jaina wasn’t and tried to spread calming vibes into their alien minds.

“Why are you here?” her helmet said a split second after one of the Menbati spoke in a series of guttural spikes that sounded like sharp coughing.

“To find you and bring you back to the others before the enemy kills you,” she spoke, trying to use simpler words for the program to latch onto. With a thought she made sure that the Protovic slung their weapons onto their back racks so they didn’t appear as threatening and that they did it in full view of the Menbati.

“How did you find us?” another one asked.

“Smoke. How many of you are here?”

“At least 900,” a Menbati commander said as it rolled through the others then unfurled itself to stand before her, apparently not afraid. She searched his mind, finding bits and pieces that she could decipher, along with the knowledge that he had been aware of Star Force’s efforts in other parts of the planet and the fact that they were here to kill lizards…along with an ambiguity about what else they might do afterwards.

“Gather them here,” she said with a frown, trying to extend her senses out far enough to catch them all and failing. Where the others were she wasn’t certain, but if she could sense more than a kilometer they must have been pretty spread out. Plus she hadn’t noticed any smoke further away, “and we will fly you away.”

“Where are your flying craft?” the commander asked, looking up at her opaque helmet.

“We will call for them now,” she said, sending a mental command to one of the Protovic in the back that was out of view to climb a tree and send a message in the clear, highlighting this position on the global battlemap and calling for dropship pickup, “but all of you must be here when it comes and we must cut away the trees so it can land.”

Technically they could go back to the river, but she didn’t feel like trying to move the Menbati at all at this point.

“We are spread out so the enemy cannot find us.”

“How far away are the others?”

“They are guarding *****, and cannot leave. Others can.”

Jaina frowned. The buzzing she’d heard indicated a word that didn’t have a translation. She tried to search this one’s mind for the meaning but got lost in the jumble of unfamiliar thoughts.

“All must come before the enemy sees your smoke.”

“There is no smoke at *****. They will not find it.”

“Your word is unknown to us. Describe what they guard.”

“It is important. We cannot leave it.”

“Can it be moved?”

“No.”

“Show me where it is.”

The Menbati hesitated and Jaina could feel all of their minds defensively wall up.

“No one is permitted to see *****. You cannot.”

“What if the enemy finds it?”

“We will defend it.”

“They will number more than 900.”

“We will defend it.”

Jaina sighed. “How many will join your others far away?”

“These here. More nearby.”

“We will take down trees there,” she said, pointing to her right just south of this tent camp. “We will clear the area for the ship.”

“We will help,” the commander said, with six of the Menbati behind him suddenly running over to where Jaina had pointed and began digging into the roots. She stared at them for a long moment until she realized they weren’t just digging, but also tearing into the wood with their teeth like a beaver.

“Do you eat the trees?”

“We eat many things. Trees bad, but we not starve.”

A few Protovic headed over and started pumping rifle shots into another one a little further away as Jaina got a telekinetic feel for the trunk even from where she was standing. “Do you have hurt people?”

“Some.”

“Bring them first.”

The Menbati turned around and had a conversation with the others that Jaina could only get bits and pieces of translated, for several were talking over one another and messing with the computer analysis that couldn’t yet pick out one voice from another. Maybe they all sounded alike or the software just didn’t have that ability activated, but when they all talked it basically cut out her ability to understand any of them.

Soon two of the Menbati started running on two legs away from the Archon then leaned forward and fell into a roll that didn’t stop. Forming a rough circle with their armored backs, the Menbati moved like a wheel through the forest with their arms and legs tucked inside. The perfect circle wobbled, throwing weight and shape in the forward direction to continue propelling itself in a way that was inefficient on its own, but was more than adequate of maintaining and increasing momentum once underway.

Combine that with their natural armor and they could roll through brush with ease, and once out in the open could gradually accelerate up to vehicle speeds while carrying their short rifles and equipment pouches across their center like an axel that stuck out to both sides.

Jaina figured she could outrun them, but they were impressive little things. Especially considering that they’d frustrated the lizards for so long. That spoke volumes for their indirect combat potential, despite their smaller size. Altogether she figured the one who had been talking to her was probably a little heavier than her out of armor, with the weight differential maybe evening out when she was fully equipped.

The sound of plasma stopped and Jaina telekinetically pushed, leaning the tree away from the Menbati with several Protovic also pushing with their hands and bodies at the base as the very tall tree came crashing down through others. Shortly thereafter one of the Menbati had gotten through enough roots for his tree to start leaning over, though it held firm at an angle until one more root snapped, then it came down to about a 30 degree angle from the ground, sticking on something further up in the canopy at its top.

One of the Menbati jumped on top of the trunk and walked up into the leaves, then the sound of teeth rubbing like a chainsaw resumed while the Protovic swarmed around their own tree and lifted it up with the arm power of some eight of them while two more traveled the length of it shooting off branches. Smoke from that added to the campfire, but soon the trunk was more or less plucked and the Protovic walked it off into the nearby forest and dumped it out of the way, then came back to collect and haul off the branches before they started on the next tree.

Trouble.

What? Jaina asked as a battlemap update was relayed from Protovic to Protovic then to her through the trees beginning with the scout now up above the canopy. Nothing was visible nearby, but in the very far distance there was a squadron of wisps heading in approximately their direction.

She also got an ETA on the dropships, noting that they would be arriving in approximately 2 hours and 18 minutes…which meant if these lizards had seen the smoke or would come close enough to spot the smoke that they would be in for a forest fire of strafing runs, and the materials in the leaves that blocked sensor and comm signals wouldn’t be stopping phaser blasts.

3

Jaina ran over to the nearest Menbati and got its attention, not sure which one was the leader given how similar they all looked.

“The enemy is coming by air. Stop the smoke.”

There was no response to her, but the Menbati did start chattering with each other for a few moments before several took off into the forest while another two went over to the nearest campfire and began kicking dirt on it. Jaina extended her hand towards it and put a bioshield over top, catching the smoke and holding it in a growing ball as they got it covered, then she pulled the ball towards her and started running with it, gradually squeezing out little bits and spreading it into the forest in too small of amounts for it to rise up and attract attention.

Keep working on the clearing, she ordered as she made her long trek out and back, with her hopping up into the tallest tree she could find on the return and climbing to the top. From there she got a view on the distant wisps and could tell that they had in fact seen the smoke, for their heading was directly towards where the puffs were dissipating. At least by the time they got here they wouldn’t have markers to target the camps with. They would have the clearing to spot, which meant they’d be coming on a direct line from their current position to…

Jaina marked that position as a waypoint and in her memory before dropping out of the tree and ran hard across the forest to a position about a kilometer ahead of the growing clearing and climbed another tree, racing to get to the top before the wisps got here.

She barely made it, poking her head up just in time to see them fanning out and beginning to fire into the forest randomly, intending on carpeting the area with phaser strikes given their sensors’ inability to pick out the Menbati, though there were several Protovic visible ahead once they got into a high enough angle to see down into the tiny clearing.

They might also be able to spot her, though most of her body still had some leaves covering her armor. That didn’t matter, for if they came to her so much the better. She needed them to get as close as possible…

With pink lances falling around her and exploding trees into shrapnel filled fireballs, the Archon mentally grabbed hold of the nearest wisp as it closed in and did as much hacking as she could in that short amount of time. Her skills weren’t as good as the more advanced Archons, but this wasn’t the first time she’d been in a lizard’s mind. Knowing she had to work fast, she sent it an overwhelming impulse to dive from a threat overhead.

As it passed her the yellow/tan craft dipped down, running through the top of the trees before starting to pull up again, but it caught a taller one and a thick enough central branch that when it bent over it caught on the wisp and pulled it over with it, smashing it down into the trees below that then bowled over as it broke free and tumbled into trunk after trunk as it tried to regain emergency altitude.

The small, unshielded craft rose up again and well out of Jaina’s range to influence as the other wisps were circling back around for another firing pass, but it came up dented and torn. It sailed upward in a smooth arc, getting some 200 meters above the treetops before a small puff of an explosion inside the craft preceded it from arcing back down and slamming into the forest for keeps.

That left five wisps in play, but they suddenly gained altitude and distance, increasing their range from the threat and keeping Jaina from getting close enough to snag another one. She didn’t know if they suspected an Archon was here or if they were just being wary of whatever the threat was, but they quickly began firing again randomly into the forest too high up for her catch unless they came directly over top of her.

Scatter and take cover. There are no troop transports in play, so they’re just trying to do whatever damage they can. What are the Menbati doing?

Packing up, one of the Protovic said along with a mental flash of his view from below.

Jaina realized what he meant instantly. The Menbati were taking down their tents and collecting the rest of their equipment to begin moving out with, but at the moment that meant they were all clustered around the campsites where the smoke had been rising from. Fortunately it was dispersed now, but they were still making themselves targets should the lizards get a lucky shot through. If a tree was hit it would send shrapnel out like a bomb…then again the Menbati had armored skin. Maybe they thought they’d be ok or didn’t realize the danger.

Regardless, if a piece of wood hit them in the eye their body armor wouldn’t mean a damn, but there wasn’t a safe place for her to tell them to go and it was obvious that they didn’t want to leave their supplies behind. They’d had to run from their original base with all this stuff, so obviously they thought it was essential to their continued survival.

But right now it was making for a very bad strategy to avoid the phaser blasts coming down randomly everywhere around her.

There was nothing to do about that so she just waited, poking her helmet out and wondering if the lizard sensors would pick it up. Climbing a bit higher and feeling the tree sway beneath her, she tried to get a bit more visible and was rewarded with the five fighters almost simultaneously turning towards her. Two pink beams leapt out at her, one of which clipped a branch a meter to her left.

Having got their attention she slid off her footholds and fell, creating a bioshield around her to pinball her way down through the branches until she slammed into the ground. Her shield breached and she was tossed onto her side by the drop, but otherwise was fine and got to her feet as the top of the tree exploded into pieces that began to rain down on her.

She sprinted off to the side while extending her Ikrid as far straight up as she could. Unfortunately it didn’t stretch out like her Pefbar did, but if she concentrated only on a small area it gave her more focus.

A few seconds later a huge crash shook the ground as a wisp nosedived down into the forest thanks to a firm mental grip on it, but the other four wisps didn’t run. Instead they continued to blanket the area and shred a wide path of trees inside of which Jaina stood. Before she could grab another fighter a tree fell beside her and its branches pulled her to the ground and pinned her there as more and more came down on top of her.

She couldn’t see anything, but soon a few plasma shots from the Protovic around the perimeter hit one of the wisps. They didn’t do much damage, barely little stings against the thin armor on the fighter, but hit it with enough and you’d punch through.

With the leaves obscuring Jaina from view and sensors, the four wisps turned and went after the Protovic who smartly scattered and ran as fast as they could as more trees were being felled by the pink beams.

She knew what they were doing because they told her with a variety of quick mental shorthand and images, with the mage wasting no time as she scrambled around underneath the pile, having to break some branches to get free, but as soon as she got into clean air she gathered herself into a Jedi jump and leapt up onto an exposed trunk nearby. She ran up to the top of it, which was actually the bottom that had been uprooted, and stood there defiantly waiting for the wisps to notice her as she got mental status reports from the Protovic.

“Over here you bastards,” she said on an open comm channel, then in a few moments one of them streaked by putting a shot within a couple meters of her but it missed.

She missed too, for it flew by so fast she couldn’t get a firm hold on its pilot. The wisp bobbled a bit but flew on avoiding the treetops. Jaina really wished these guys didn’t adapt so fast, not to mention having genetic knowledge of what Archons were and what they were capable of woven into them from birth. That was a revelation that wasn’t all that old, and it seemed that the lizards relied less on databanks and conventional learning than they did genetic updates that would spread across the entire empire and make all lizards within subsequent generations aware of what Jaina could do and a few tactics on how to avoid it.

But that was ok, for the high speed pass reduced his firing run to only the one shot that nearly hit her, but it also kept him from shooting anywhere else. When the other three came in making equally fast runs, Jaina held her ground and upped her shields to full power forward, keeping her front towards them whenever they strafed her to increase her odds while also generating a bit of a bioshield as her tissues recovered from the last one getting knocked away.

Reaching for one of the wisps she tried to affect it earlier in its run but couldn’t do much more with it than the last one. Two more came in on its heels and pelted the area around her with phaser hits, destroying the trunk underneath her feet and throwing her to the south in the explosion. She fell into the leaves on the downed and smoking trees, dipping out of sensor range of the wisps.

How close are they?

Another few minutes here.

“Damn it,” she said to herself as she crawled back into view and jumped to another stump that would give her a decent foothold. She had to buy more time.

The wisps came back in again and this time she got hit, blasting away half her shield strength as the branches that she fell into burst into flame with other hits. Another shot fell near to her, blasting into the ground and covering her with a spray of dirt as they streaked by overhead, still maintaining a speed that wasn’t giving her enough time to mess with them.

As she picked herself up and waited for the next run she got an image of smoke trailing one of the wisps, though the surrounding intact trees were blocking her actual view. The image was coming from the Protovic, who’d managed to wound one of them enough with multiple rifle shots to get through the hull and do some internal damage.

Another report came in detailing the progress of the Menbati and Jaina, seeing the low state of her armor’s shields and feeling the bad frayed feeling of her bioshields being completely spent, decided that was enough. Leaping across the burning, felled trees she got to the intact forest within four jumps just as another wisp came around. Rather than trying to snag it she just ran, sprinting ahead of the phaser strikes and getting knocked off her feet to the left as one fell close to her on the right.

She flipped over midair and landed on her feet awkwardly. A split second of balance control and she was running again, taking a sharp turn to the right and away from the last known position the wisp had her at as she was now underneath the sensor dampening leaves again.

With no visible target in sight the wisps went back to randomized bombardment, but still kept their speed up so high that she wasn’t going to be able to catch any of them with her psionics. Fortunately the Menbati were just finishing up packing when she got to the camp near the clearing the Protovic had been working on. It was the only one that had clear footing, but was too small for a dropship to land in. The ones the lizards had felled were large enough, but they were full of debris and there was no point in staying near any of them at this point.

Jaina had the Protovic follow her in a widely spaced formation while they followed the Menbati as they retreated carrying heavy packs of gear with a few left unencumbered to act as skirmishers. She ran up beside one of them and gave it a boost over a line of rocks, picking it and its pack up telekinetically and hopping it over the terrain that the one in front of it had trouble with.

It shrieked, not knowing what had grabbed it, then got back to slowly running after she set it down and ran up beside it. The Menbati probably didn’t understand what had happened, but with no enemies in sight it didn’t have time to think, only run, and it couldn’t enter wheel mode with the cargo it was carrying, meaning it was moving very, very slowly compared to the Protovic and Archon.

Phaser blasts continued to come down randomly, but the further they traveled the less danger they were in because the lizards couldn’t see them, and fortunately there weren’t many natural gaps in the tightly packed forest to let them sneak a peek inside.

After some ten minutes of running/jogging along with the Menbati, one of them rolled up to Jaina in her distinctive dark blue armor that differed from the Protovic blue enough to be significant for these guys to spot.

“The ***** is this way,” it said before rolling off a different direction.

Jaina didn’t know what they were talking about, but she followed it anyway as it led away from the group of campers they had been following. Up and over a ridge and down through a couple of ravines and the Menbati stopped just short of a dirt mound that had a cave entrance in it.

“One come. Others stay here.”

Jaina nodded, not knowing if it would understand the gesture. “Yes.”

The little wheel of armor rolled slowly into the leading edge of the rim and disappeared down the three meter wide tunnel at an angle as Jaina told the Protovic to stay behind and secure the immediate area. She walked in after it and accelerated into a slow jog to keep up, using her Pefbar to see as the light from above dimmed and there was no interior illumination to replace it.

They traveled down gradually with the tunnel mostly taking them laterally off to what eventually transitioned from dirt into stone. Shortly after that the stone was replaced by fabricated materials and she had to duck down a few inches to walk inside as their ceiling hung low, but that was typical of Menbati structures. She’d been in several of their bases before, but those had all been on the surface.

This one had obviously been here a while, for once they got past a guard station the interior revealed itself to be a small city, though the inhabitants that were moving around had multiple injuries. This was no doubt the location of the rest of the survivors that she couldn’t sense in the forest, and what those on the surface had been guarding…with something else inside.

“What is the purpose of this place?”

“Emergency,” her guide said, with Jaina realizing this must have been a premade bunker stashed far out in the forest. No wonder these guys had hidden from and survived the lizards for so long.

There wasn’t much in the way of equipment or luxuries, but eventually the Archon was lead to a compartment that did have technology in it, along with a flatscreen map of this region of the planet detailing their location and the surrounding facilities, including several other bunkers that she had not known about nor had the Menbati told her existed previously.

If she’d been told she could have saved days’ worth of wandering around in the forest looking for these guys.

“You have come to move us?” another Menbati asked, this one dressed differently enough that she guessed it was a leadership caste ‘organizer,’ though the uniform was so ragged and dirty she couldn’t be for sure given the small differences in their clothing that covered only their softer bellies. Their armor had no need of coverings.

“I have ships on the way to do just that. I had not been told this place was here. Do you want to go or stay?”

“Most go. The ***** cannot be moved. You lead away.”

Jaina sighed. “Prepare your people to leave soon. I will guard the surface entrance and tell you when the time is near.”

“Thank you, Star Force.”

“Thank you for staying alive,” she said, exchanging a few more words before heading back up to the surface and filling in the Protovic, one of which was up in a tree linking in with the battlemap and passing the signal back down to those on the ground. The dropships were on their way, but she knew it was going to be a tight fit to get some 900 Menbati in them.

She linked into their comm systems and passed a message up to the lookout who transmitted it in a direct line towards the oncoming transports so the wisps wouldn’t pick it up, asking for more ships and a fighter escort.

Within a few seconds a reply came, along with a highlight of the Protovic squadron already enroute with the skeets pressing hard to catch up before a series of lizard kirbies beat them there. The nearby 4 wisps hadn’t left the area and were still shooting down into the forest occasionally in the distance. Once they got boots on the ground they’d have a much better time of taking out the Menbati, but they had to know they’d be easy pickings for an Archon.

Then she realized how many kirbies there were…not just in the group approaching, but those coming further back from not one, but four nearby bases, including the one that the lizards had just overrun and kicked the Menbati out of.

These guys really want the Menbati dead, she told the Protovic. We are not going to let that happen. We’ve got air cover incoming, but there are too many transports to avoid getting their troops on the ground. We’re going to have to go on a killing spree once they find our evac point. We can’t load fast unless we have a large clearing, and we can’t get a large clearing without letting the lizards know where we are.

4

April 6, 3159

Shemtala System (lizard territory)

Yametren (contested world)

Jaina helped a limping Protovic over a fallen tree with a brief telekinetic lift then followed her up into the last dropship, standing on the edge as the ramp closed up to make sure that nothing slipped in a final shot. All the lizards were dead, as far as her senses could tell, but you never wanted to assume.

Once the ramp/door clicked into place she found herself a seat along with the rest of her troops and rode with the flock of dropships across the expansive forest until they arrived at a Star Force staging base set just outside a Menbati city, one of the few they still had left that was visible from the air. It had survived as long as it did due to the cheap and plentiful little missiles the natives had used. Individually they packed a small punch, but the Menbati had so many of them and used them so liberally against anything in the skies that the lizards were always taking heavy loses when they went about the obvious approaches.

Even cruisers weren’t immune to the little missiles, and there were two on the horizon testifying to that effectiveness, half buried in the ground where they had crashed long ago, but not so long that they were overgrown with vegetation. More than anything the Menbati were making the lizards bleed in order to slowly take over their world, and gratefully the enemy hadn’t considered the little race too much of a problem to warrant sending in heavy reinforcements.

The city itself was barely even with the treetops, with no structure rising more than 3 or 4 stories above ground. Numerous tunnels and sublevels stretched out throughout the Menbati architecture, giving the bit of native civilization a larger footprint than appeared from the air. They’d allowed Star Force to set up a base only a few kilometers away and Jaina’s dropship headed there even as she saw others further ahead diverting over to the city to drop off the survivors.

There were none in her ship so they went straight back to base to land and offload her troops. The casualties had gone first, with one of them losing an arm and others with severe yet lesser injuries. The lizards had not been subtle in their pursuit of the Menbati and both Jaina and her unit had to overextend themselves in order to protect the little twerps who refused to coordinate with them.

The Archon was still fuming when she got off the dropship and was met by Stan-47554. He was the senior Archon assigned to this invasion while this base and its 23,000 Protovic were under her direct command, though more than a third of them were techs. Seeing him was a surprise, so as she diverted away from the line coming off the dropship she wondered what was up.

“Your guys look beat up,” he commented as she stopped in front of his nearly identical dark blue armor and retracted her helmet.

“They are,” she confirmed, showing a scowl. “Those damn Menbati wouldn’t stay put and my people had to cover for them. And don’t blame it on the translation programming. These guys don’t want to listen to us.”

“They’ll learn eventually,” Stan said, glancing over her with his Pefbar. “You took a few nicks.”

“Not worth mentioning when one of my people lost an arm.”

“Already on the way up to orbit.”

“Good. Now why are you here?”

Stan offered only a mild sarcastic look, given how upset she obviously was. “Do I need a reason to drop in and say hi?”

“If it’s bad news I can’t promise I won’t hit you.”

“Did you hit any of them?” he asked, referring to the Menbati.

“No, but I did kick one when he wouldn’t board the dropship fast enough.”

“Hurt your foot?”

“My armor is stronger than his. What’s up, Stan?”

“We didn’t ask, they did. I’m not sure they fully understand either, so we’re going to have to deal with that, but I’ve already sent a courier back to Sara to ask for instructions. The Menbati want to join Star Force.”

Jaina’s frown deepened. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Oh, it gets better. They don’t just want to join, they want to fight. In the great crusade across the stars.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “How do they even know what’s going on out there?”

“They don’t, beyond what little we’ve told them. But they’re adamant. I’m not sure why, especially after I told them that we’re only here to kill the lizards and want no compensation for it. That didn’t dissuade them in the least.”

“What do they think being part of Star Force means?”

“They want to be part of the empire.”

“And…”

“I’ve talked to their leaders for several hours. I can’t get much out of them, but they have a deeply ingrained loyalty that is now transferred onto us. I would have dismissed the request out of misplaced gratitude, but there’s also a great deal of intellect in them. They’re not making a rash choice. A quick one, for sure, but there’s more to it than there appears on the surface.”

“Do they know we’ll tear their culture apart and rebuild it?”

“Yes, and they seem to think it’ll be an improvement. And to be frank, they don’t have much left compared to what they did pre-lizard.”

“That usually doesn’t stop anyone from clinging onto tradition, especially when there are millions of them remaining.”

“Billions, actually,” Stan said with a cringe.

Jaina stared at him blankly for a moment, then hung her shoulders in a visible sigh. “Underground?”

“When they asked to join us they revealed their full holdings. I don’t think the lizards ever knew how many of them there were. They’ve burrowed down through the crust nearly to molten rock all over the planet. Only a small portion of their population was on the surface.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“They’ve been collapsing tunnels and digging new ones to keep the lizards from reaching their strongholds. Very savvy when it comes to underground warfare.”

“And dumb on the surface.”

“The fact that they showed me everything also underscores how serious they are about their request. They just exposed everything, and they wouldn’t have done that if they thought there was even a possibility that we were a threat.”

“Gullible too it seems.”

“Why, are you planning on killing them after we get rid of the lizards?”

“Do they know that?”

Stan shook his head. “I don’t know. Either they’re far too trusting or they’re good judges of character.”

“They didn’t trust me a little while ago,” Jaina pointed out. “What do you think Sara will do?”

“I’m guessing that she’ll come here in person. Beyond that your guess is as good as mine.”

“What is your guess, beyond that?”

“Have we ever said no?”

“Twice.”

“And what were the reasons there?”

“Rumor says deceit.”

“And I can’t find any in these guys.”

“So you’re saying if they’re on the level then Sara is going to take them in in some form?”

“That’s my guess, but you never know with a trailblazer. They have a knack for finding other options.”

“And you came to tell me this in person because?”

“Because if Sara decides to bring them into the fold, even if just as a ward…”

“It better not be more than that.”

“…whatever she decides, I’m going to request permanent assignment here.”

Jaina’s uncomfortable look changed into disgust. “And you want me to stay too?”

“You’re already familiar with the planet,” he said with a wince. “Though maybe today is a bad day to be discussing this.”

“Very bad.”

“It’ll take Sara a few weeks to get here regardless, and we can discuss this in a few days once you cool off,” he said, holding up his hands in a warning gesture as she looked about ready to explode, “not that you shouldn’t be upset. Just remember we’ve taken formerly bad races and turned them around. No matter what these guys have or haven’t done recently should reflect on their race’s potential.”

“Tell that to the armless Protovic.”

“What were they actually doing? Running or fighting?”

“Whatever they damn well pleased! I don’t know what they were doing half the time, but some of them wanted to kill lizards when we were trying to herd them towards the dropships. And I don’t care what you think my mindset will be in a few days, I’m staying here until the lizards are eradicated then I’m moving on. If you want to rehab these morons you’re welcome to it.”

“Fair enough,” Stan relented. “Are you fit to go back out?”

“I need an hour to shower and eat, then I’ll be good to go.”

“Without shooting the next Menbati you see?”

“Not unless he deserves it.”

“Good enough,” Stan said, pointing an armored thumb over his shoulder before stepping to the side.

Jaina took off immediately, not feeling like continuing the conversation and both Archons knowing she needed to keep moving. With the lizards constantly pressing against the remaining Menbati until they were all killed, everyone was under the clock. All the army units had a mage as field commander, leaving him free to go where he needed and maintain a global view of the combat. He was going to offer to give Jaina a break and take the next mission in her place, but he knew that the best thing for her to do was get back into the action and work off some of her frustration. Sitting and stewing wouldn’t help.

And he didn’t like the news of the Menbati making trouble for the rescue teams either, though he also noted that it was a sign of how they needed proper Star Force training. And a race that had managed to outwit and survive the lizards for this long could probably be turned into an asset for the empire once the trailblazers worked their magic on them.

When Sara-012 got to Shemtala she immediately assumed control of ground operations, making a few tweaks to what the mages had been running, then dismissed the H’kar fleet to another system where they were needed, leaving her command ship and the other Star Force vessels already here to protect this world in the unlikely event that the lizards tried to counterattack. That wasn’t occurring in any of the other systems that Sara was sweeping up beyond Alpha Region, so she felt secure sending the order for the H’kar to move ahead to another invasion.

She hadn’t expected to need to come here, but a race requesting to join Star Force in this manner wasn’t something for the mages to handle. Most races requested something from Star Force, usually more than they were ever going to get, but to have one ask to be fully included without caveat had happened before, and when it did it usually meant a willing populace rather than one she’d have to wrangle into line over generations via control of upcoming younglings.

But with every new race they encountered there were always unexpected variables that needed a trailblazer’s touch, or in this case evaluation, so she didn’t waste any time and headed down to one of Star Force’s bases on the planet and over into a Menbati city, walking around in her golden titan armor with almost no hindrance at all. The short ‘Rammuses,’ as she thought of them, were tough looking but also skittish. There was no animosity present, no sense of danger, but they had also never seen the golden armor before and that was drawing some curiosity.

Getting into their heads as often as she could she sampled their mindset, culture, worries, and aspirations. They were immensely grateful for being rescued after so many years, and that obviously factored into their request to join Star Force, but there was something else underneath the surface that she didn’t catch on to until the following week.

Once she identified it, Sara began to understand the Menbati. They had never left this star system and few had ever come to it before the lizards arrived. They knew of other races but had no means to reach out to them, with doing so and taking their place amongst the community of the stars was one of their driving societal imperatives. They had no illusions about peaceful relations, expecting there to be more enemies than friends out there, but they knew they had to get into the game and had been building up their technology in the hopes of attaining space travel when the lizards came and put an end to that.

Since then all tech upgrades had been geared towards ground combat with some impressive results. In the beginning the lizards had outright slaughtered the Menbati, but there were so few lizards that the planet had time and population to spare. That wasn’t the strategy, just a simple truth that had led to further and further resistance. By the time the lizards had four cruisers and were bombarding their cities from above with impunity but without enough troops to invade them, the Menbati had upgraded their existing defensive missiles into their Hip’cha, building up numbers of them before releasing them all on a single cruiser and taking it down before it knew what was happening to it.

That first cruiser destruction had been a signal to their entire race that they could effectively fight back and had been memorialized enough that almost every mind Sara touched knew the story. Since then they’d been growing and learning all the while the lizards were doing the same and chopping off chunks of their planet for their own uses. The Menbati didn’t wait to get hit, having counterattacked numerous times, but gradually they had been losing territory, but not hope, for the heart of their society lay below ground where the lizards apparently had never gone.

That in itself was impressive, given how good the lizards were at tunneling, but it seemed they never got intelligence about the true size of the Menbati civilization, otherwise she was sure they would have found a way to get at them by now.

There was potential here, and the more she visited city after city and a few battlefronts to see and help them in combat, the more she recognized that their desire to join their rescuers and take their place amongst the stars fit in with Star Force’s own aims enough to make these guys a worthy annexation if they held to their word. There could, and probably would be problems arise, but after such a long history incorporating races into the empire at multiple levels she was confident that the Menbati would not be an issue…and if they were, Star Force also had plenty of experience dealing with such things.

What did surprise her was that the mage in command of this invasion wanted to stay after the lizards were removed and play a hand in bringing the Menbati into the empire.

So she started to investigate him as well. Stan she already knew, along with all the other 574 mages assigned to her invasion corridor, but if he wanted to take part in this annexation she needed to know more. Before publically accepting the Menbati into Star Force she took the opportunity to tour the planet along with Stan, sizing him up at the same time as learning more about the planet and pushing the lizard killing even faster than their suicidal rush to destroy the Menbati was accomplishing in its own right.

Her skill and power had impressed the Menbati to no end, and she didn’t hesitate to jump into combat whenever needed or just because she felt like it. Staying on the world for the next several months, she got the lizard infestation cleared out then began organizing the withdrawal of most of their bases now that the bulk of the Protovic troops would be moving on to another system. Already having sent back a report to Davis, she wasn’t surprised when a convoy of civilian ships with military escort arrived along with a reply.

Annexation approved. Ward status granted. Judging by the extensive underground structures the Menbati have developed I get the feeling these guys could have some Kiritak qualities with industry in mind. Their combat prowess I imagine will be lackluster, but I’ll leave that to you. Subsequent convoys will be forthcoming. I want these guys upgraded faster than typical for a ward and a full evaluation of their potential with measurable numbers. If they are eager to contribute then they may very well achieve more than ward status, and I want to know what they’re capable of.

Oh, and as for renaming them, I think it would be a good way to fully test their commitment to an empire they don’t truly understand. If they’re really onboard and willing to follow your lead, get these guys up to speed as fast as you can. If you don’t want to head up this annexation personally, I’ll let you choose a replacement or defer to me. Just get things moving quickly. If these guys balk, I want to know sooner rather than later.

Sara smiled. Not because he was giving her the green light to annex them, but because he was letting her rename them after her favorite little spike ball.

Henceforth the Menbati would be known as the Rammus. Both singular and plural in form.

5

January 3, 3160

Shemtala System (Star Force territory)

Yametren

Stan stood onboard his flagship, a Warship-class jumpship and the only military vessel left in the star system aside from Sara’s small fleet that was just now leaving orbit. He’d spent several months with her going over what she wanted done with the Menb…the Rammus, and now she was leaving him to single-handedly bring this race into the empire. That was what he’d wanted, but he hadn’t expected to be left in full command.

Sara was still going to be directing things from afar, but all the onsite adjustments and brainstorming were going to be his responsibility, with that being the largest task he’d ever been assigned to date. But he was an Archon and embraced challenges, with this one offering more than he’d ever expected to be entrusted with. That meant he had to come through, and with something like this there was no procedure to follow. Sara had laid out the basics for him, but had also made him aware of how much he’d have to rely on intuition and adaptation.

Stan blew out a slow breath, watching her ships jump out of orbit enroute to the star. It was all on him now…well, sort of. He was in charge but he had a good staff of techs and administrators with him, though they’d be taking their cues from him, and despite the instructions Sara had given him he was going to have to make up a lot of this on the fly.

Taking her advice, he was going to base himself off the warship rather than posting to a firebase on the surface. There were already a few left over from the lizard cleansing that had been converted into supply depots and interface sites with the Rammus, but a proper city hadn’t been built yet. That was waiting on the designs he set down, and Sara had left that bit up to him, for it had a lot to do with the Rammus and if he wanted a joint habitation right off or wanted a separate facility to then build others out of.

At least the translators were a lot better now. Sara had got people working on those first thing when the convoy arrived, though they did have an odd glitch in them in which ‘yes’ often was translated as ‘ok.’ Stan had asked about that and found it wasn’t a glitch per say, but an alteration that Sara had made. He’d asked her about it and she’d just smiled, not offering a reason and he hadn’t pressed. He could order them to change it, but wasn’t going to bother. She probably had a reason for it, and it didn’t really interfere with communication.

And he wasn’t about to second guess a trailblazer on something like this. She might not care…or she might kick his ass the next time they met.

He walked over to his command chair and sat down, pulling up the Star Force territory map. His efforts would be confined to this single star system, but he needed to find a niche within the empire for these guys so he had to think big picture right now.

In the center of the map was the ADZ, the population crunch interior of their now massive territory. Beyond it to the spinward side, which he tended to think of as ‘west,’ was the Calavari Region. Rimward was the Bsidd Region while the patchy network of Axius expansions were up above. The lizard coreward territory line was, naturally, in towards the core with the Achkor Region in between. To the ‘east’ and against the galactic spin was the region the lizards hadn’t gotten to, leaving it with a multitude of races and far too many for Star Force to keep track of. This area was loosely referred to as the Expanded Region and stretched out down below the ADZ as well.

Straight down from the ADZ was the link that ran to Voku territory, with the Benoid slightly off to the side. Skarron territory met up with them there, but did not touch near to Star Force. It was, in fact, getting further away as the lizard line extended and devoured the other enemy empire. There was a glut of systems coreward and down from the ADZ that had not yet succumbed to either the Skarrons or the lizards, but the latter were slowly eating into them and Stan had been told that if/when they hit the geographical boundary Star Force had marked they’d have to hold them there as well all the way down to Voku territory.

On the map there were also little lines reaching up to the top of the galactic plane all along that border ahead of where the lizards had actually reached. Each of those little dots held outpost-level colonies designed to plant the flag and provide an oasis in the great distances that had to be traveled, but were never intended to grow too large. Those living there were building, of course, but there was no additional material or personnel being pumped in from afar to speed up that process, letting them develop at a leisurely pace as they set up a network of surveillance patrols, probes, and relays along the border so they would know when the lizards eventually worked their way there.

Those little lines were insufficient on their own, but they had reached all the way up to the top of the galaxy, approximately 500 lightyears away from the ADZ that sat in roughly the center of the plane. There was no firm upper boundary, for there were scattered systems beyond orbiting off the main group, but the edge of that group had been reached and two small outposts had been established beyond it, having to jump much further distances between stars to get there, but the view they had was worth it.

Stan brought up the pictures they’d taken, looking down at the giant disc that was the galaxy from just above it and seeing the big bulge in the center. That bulge was where the V’kit’no’sat made their home, reaching out into the disc a ways, but it was that dense central region that had so many systems, so many worlds, and so much debris that it was a cluttered mess of navigational hazards offset by many short jumplines. If the galaxy could be divided into an urban and rural zone, Star Force inhabited the rural while the galactic center was the urban, which partly explained why the V’kit’no’sat had not pushed all the way out to the rim…besides the fact that the galaxy was truly so big that no one could conquer it all.

And yet, the lizards were well on their way to doing that if they weren’t stopped. Their version of conquest was that of a virus spreading to everything everywhere with no real conquest involved, only destruction and replication. Consuming the galaxy would take a very long time, but unchecked they could do it. They might not have command and control over everything given the size, but they could dominate it.

He guessed that was the difference between the lizards and the V’kit’no’sat. One wanted to dominate, the other wanted to conquer. To conquer meant you controlled, whereas in this context, domination mean pushing out all others and populating everything. Grass could do that, so it wasn’t an achievement that the V’kit’no’sat would deem worthy of their consideration. They chose to dominate by intimidation and taking out anyone they chose, leaving the bulk of the galaxy’s races as they were and knowing that they were no threat to their empire…one which was interconnected and knew what every other part of it was doing.

And looking at the visuals they had on record, Stan was very glad they were in that big bulge of the galactic core rather than out on the disc where Earth had the good fortune of being, marking the outer edge of the furthest expansion by the V’kit’no’sat and really no more than an outpost world like the few Star Force had set up on the disc’s upper edge.

Getting out there had been an achievement, to be sure, but it also meant the lizards couldn’t flank them from their coreward region. There was still a huge number of lizard systems left in their rimward hemisphere, more than half their number, but hopefully once their core worlds and their shipyard rings were taken away from them, the rest of the lizard systems would fall more quickly, potentially to others once they saw the unbeatable lizards’ homeworld go down.

It would be a very long time until the rimward hemisphere was taken out and their continuous expansion colonies hunted down, but once it was there was the threat of the coreward hemisphere spreading back out to their territories, and in order to prevent that Star Force was going to have to create a wall across the entire galactic plane from top to bottom and maintain it with the help of the Voku and any other willing allies.

The number of systems that would lie on that wall was insane, but Star Force was already beginning to throw up their detection net with these little lines of systems. Holding back the lizard empire once it’d filled out that region was going to be a constant pain in the ass, and Stan hated the idea that they had to let them get that large, but the trailblazers’ logic was sound. They couldn’t chase the lizards in close to the V’kit’no’sat. The fact that they’d been able to grow this large and not be found out testified to the size of the galaxy and their lack of knowledge this far out. But go closer and hit their sphere of intelligence, wherever it may lay, and it’d be like hitting a trip mine.

They couldn’t go after the lizards there, damn them, but they could make sure that they exterminated the buggers on this side of the line.

Star Force also had one line reaching down to the bottom of the galactic plane, passing around the edge of Voku territory rather than going through it, so right now Star Force touched one intergalactic ‘ocean’ to the other, spanning some 1,000 lightyears from which the net across the galactic disc would be stretched to hold the lizards back.

Trouble was, there was no lateral sides to that disc. The Preema held one side and, after giving up their hopes of wiping the lizards out entirely, had resolved to form their own boundary. So as long as they didn’t cave, that side would match up and keep the lizards boxed in, but the other ‘eastern’ side was wide open with no ally there to block them in down the road. Right now it was the Skarron empire poking out into that region, but the lizards were winning that fight and eventually would round the corner on the Star Force wall once it was put up, meaning that they’d have to keep extending it further and further.

The solution to that problem he didn’t know, but luckily he didn’t have to be the one to figure it out. His puzzle was the Rammus and where they would fit into all of this. Geographically they were near the outer lizard border, but that line was going to keep moving and the Rammus were going to be in safe territory.

They weren’t going to hold a border slot and they weren’t going to interlink with the ADZ…they were too far away for that. The trade routes would stretch out eventually, but they were sitting in a region of empty systems that had been taken from the lizards and there were no plans to recolonize them anytime soon.

So the Rammus were basically going to be on their own little island for the foreseeable future. They could relocate or expand elsewhere, but there was no need for that. Other factions had that covered, especially in this region with the Bsidd able to grow so fast and in so many variations.

What could these guys become? Down the road at least. Numbers wise they were tiny…not super tiny, thankfully, but with one world that was mostly busted up by the lizards it was going to be a fixer upper for sure, despite what the Rammus had maintained below ground, which was impressive. He and Sara had visited those cities extensively, feeling claustrophobic the entire time.

That was one item he was changing. All future construction was going to be big enough for Humans as well, which was Star Force standard anyway. Stan would make use of their underground cities during the transition but eventually they’d all have to be remodeled or abandoned.

But what could these guys do other than patrol the local region? That was always needed, given how many empty systems Star Force had to watch over and make sure no one else took from them. Both he and Sara saw potential in these guys, but how was Stan really going to make them distinctive and able to contribute outside of massive numbers and infrastructure that would be centuries, if not millennia in the making?

They were diggers, and Star Force didn’t have many of those. Not in a distinctive way, at least. Star Force built underground too, but these guys could literally do it by hand. They could burrow down even through loose rock thanks to a retractable claws on all four limbs, and even survive cave-ins thanks to their natural armor…from which they’d just dig their way back out given time. They even had a special fatty tissue that stored oxygen that they could burn away slowly to survive in bad atmosphere or limited atmosphere underground.

But what did that matter to Star Force? Their mechanized diggers were far better, and aside from chasing lizards into tunnels too small for Humans to easily go there wasn’t any combat advantage that he could see to it.

Out in the open they had a speed advantage in wheel mode, but nothing he couldn’t outrun. These guys were eager, he’d give them that, but biologically speaking they didn’t have anything that really bespoke combat except for their armor…which wouldn’t stand up all that well to plasma strikes. Fabricated armor was much better, so where did that leave them?

Stan didn’t know and it was beginning to bother him. He’d discussed all this with Sara but she hadn’t had any firm solutions, citing that he’d have to get them adjusted to Star Force ways of doing things before he could really evaluate what they were capable of.

And that meant years of training.

So that was his first task. Get an advanced training group going so he could build a standardized basic program for the rest of them and enough of a starter program so they could start filling out maturias. Getting those facilities built was going to take time, but he had to have the plans first so that when the first structure was ready to go they could start putting infants inside immediately. As long term of a process this was, he couldn’t afford to waste months. The Rammus wanted to be Star Force, and he needed to take advantage of that before they could change their mind or subsequent generations could be born and grow up free of the lizards…which could incline them to different ideas.

All that meant he had to make the transition for them now, as soon as possible, and get them working towards goals even if he didn’t have enough infrastructure to house them all. So what goals could he given them right off the bat?

Raw materials, obviously. They were diggers, so mining was an easy option even if they didn’t have Star Force’s level of tech. So that was one big item he could add to his list. But what else?

Picking up after the lizards. There was a lot of their infrastructure that had to be removed and recycled. If he had them bring the pieces to the Star Force recyclers that would give them something to do and allow him to use his limited offworld personnel for other tasks. About a third of those were Human, with the rest being a mix of Kiritas and Bsidd.

Wait a minute, this isn’t about what the Rammus can do, but what does Star Force need?

Or more accurately, what could it use, more of as a luxury or an enhancement, because it already had everything it needed.

Then an epiphany struck him. He thought it through with as many variations as he could imagine, settling in on an uncertain course of action but one that he knew would lead to something of merit.

He looked up from the panel he’d been working on for several hours by now, with that time having flashed by rapidly once he’d gotten on the trail of a good idea. Stretching his back a bit as he sat up, he looked at the forward vid screen that showed the planet below them from their low orbit.

He nodded at it, imagining one of the Rammus standing in front of him.

“Ok,” he whispered with a smile, then got up and left the bridge to confer with the Administrators assigned to him in order to get the ball rolling.

6

January 3, 3193

Unnamed System (lizard territory)

Planet 12

Jaina picked up a Protovic with her Lachka and threw him into a mess of lizard infantry, his blue armor balled up into an improvised wrecking ball that knocked down more than a dozen of them. Plasma shots flew across over top of him, nailing lizards all around as he stood up, punching one back while two more shot him from pointblank range as his shields snapped back into place.

A third lizard jumped and looped his thin arms around the Protovic, dragging him backwards off balance as two more jumped on top of him, knocking him to the ground as a rush of lizards moved forward to fill the gap that he’d made, some of them piling on top of his blue armor as they tried to get some more rifle shots into him.

He dropped his already weakened shields, letting the lizard bodies make contact with his armor…

Suddenly the mass of them jerked, recoiling without thinking and letting him go as he sent an electrical charge through his specially designed armor that allowed him to channel his natural ability. It wasn’t a strong charge, especially spread out through so many lizards, but it was enough to get them to loosen their grip and give him a little maneuvering room that he used to get a strong kick into one that knocked it back into two others.

From there he went about punching and kicking, disrupting the lizards enough that Jaina and the others were able to mow down a lot of them as they worked their way back to him. Another blue ball shot by, landing a few meters ahead and taking more pressure off of him. Together they disabled more than killed the lizards around them fighting hand to hand, then the wave of Star Force troops rushed around them and shot the lizards they had knocked down.

The Archon clapped one of them on the shoulder as she passed, with both of them knowing to fall into the rear and get their shields recharged over their pitted armor. They’d taken far too many hits, but it had been worth the tradeoff to get the lizards out of the urban cover they’d been taking in the debris of their own city.

Jaina pushed forward for another two kilometers, cleaning out more narrow points where the lizards were trying to mass their numbers and kill any of the Protovic that they could. She either had the option of waiting or pushing forward, either of which would be to the enemy’s advantage. Protovic units were assaulting this section of city from multiple angles, working their way back to what had been labeled as an area that contained subsurface entrances. They’d hit as many as they could find from orbit and then close in with air power, but there were obviously some that they had missed and the only way of finding them was going in on foot.

She wasn’t going to make the mistake of chasing them down their tunnels, at least not with so much of the surface still left to cleanse. They’d find the holes and seal them, leaving any subsurface warfare until later and knowing that while her troops weren’t in a lot of danger up here so long as they kept their heads and fought smart, the lizards were succeeding in grinding down their supplies. Ammunition was low and their armor was getting chewed up. Before too long they’d have to pull back or find themselves in a situation where the lizards could kill them.

An upgrade to their armor let her check not only the status of everyone in her unit at a glance, but it also linked with the weapons they carried and let her see how much ammo they had remaining. They were all getting low and would need to cycle out or get resupplied, and while they were on the move that wasn’t easy. Bringing in a dropship was doable, but the lizards might have more of their little missile launchers nearby, and while one wouldn’t be a threat to a dropship’s shields, multiple ones could be. With air cover they could take them out, so dropship reinforcement was doable if needed, but fortunately they’d come up with an alternative means of resupply.

She hit her beacon, then continued pressing forward and not giving the lizards an opportunity to regroup. After a while several new contacts popped up on the battlemap, coming from behind their lines and not lizards. They were moving erratically, surging forward quickly then almost stopping again. They didn’t move like troops nor aircraft, and she knew better than to anticipate their arrival, instead waiting for it to happen with a piece of her mind as she and her Protovic continued fighting even to lower levels of ammunition that she wasn’t too concerned about.

Surge and stall, surge and stall…the contacts kept getting closer, and she knew that the varied terrain was the cause. Give them a stretch of open road and they could get up to good speed, but maneuvering through the rubble required them to move slowly while coming out of wheel mode.

Soon the first of the Rammus came up behind them and into view. Jaina stopped and reversed course immediately, being the first to go back and meet the dark green mass of armor as it sped forward like a wheel then unraveled into a standing quadruped within a few meters of her. Across its chest was a pole that contained supplies that would become a stubby axel when it balled up again. Also, around the edges of its back were pouches built into the armor, each separated from the next to keep the flexibility required to provide propulsion while moving.

The Rammus held position, standing as tall as it could as she plucked out two ammo containers and began reloading her weapons, then pocketed some more into her own pack. Another Protovic came up and relieved the Rammus of the rest of what he was carrying, then both Archon and Commando headed back to the front lines as more began to fall back in singles or pairs while the group continued to press the attack into the lizards.

The Rammus, now with empty cargo pouches, turned around and balled up again, jumping into a roll that then accelerated by bending his otherwise circular shape. Stretching and flexing at the proper moments he gained speed, traveling down a straight section of road and passing two others coming the opposite way. When it got to a blockage it had to slow and unfurl, climbing over some chunks of building and around a turn until it found another flat section, where it then went back into wheel mode and accelerated heading back to the nearest supply depot to pick up another load.

Jaina headed back to the front lines, taking a short moment to grab a bit of ambrosia out of her pack in M&M form and slipping it into her mouth as she mentally retracted that bit of helmet. Her shields extended momentarily to include her arm so they didn’t block the little pellet as she popped it into her mouth. As she crunched and swallowed it her shields reset and her helmet reformed, then she was back within firing range and added her plasma rifle shots with the others as an automated program in her armor began selecting other Protovic along the line and ordering them to fall back whenever a Rammus got near.

That had taken some time to work out, but now both the Rammus and the Protovic had gotten good at making the exchanges fast and efficient, with the little guys marking themselves as ‘empty’ on the battlemap so no Protovic would be erroneously sent back to them and have to wait. The system kept everyone in fighting mode except when they needed to pick up supplies.

The exchange happened efficiently despite the random nature of the debris, then about ten minutes later Jaina’s troops got stopped cold as a group of tanks suddenly appeared from underground. She ran towards and leapt up on top of one of them as the Protovic scattered, doing what she needed to in order to take it out as skeets were diverted to hit the rest of the tanks…then had to pull out as hundreds of infantry-sized missiles shot up towards them.

Breaking up, the skeet squadrons began zooming around the perimeter trying to draw missiles in smaller numbers towards them and gradually deplenish the lizard ammunition, but for the moment they couldn’t get near Jaina’s troops, which she quickly ordered to retreat. The Archon followed as soon as she got the first tank killed, using the pilots inside to open the hatch then chucking a grenade inside to render the controls inoperable after obligingly dragging the pilots out and tossing them safely to the ground…though she did land one with a stern kick on its way down.

As the tank puffed with a little smoke when the insides got junked, she ran off nearly taking a large phaser shot to her armor. As it was the near miss crackled on her shields thanks to the ionization of the air around the beam and she ducked behind the nearest bit of building as soon as she could, only to have that wall blasted apart by another pink beam.

A chunk of wall hit her in the head, another in the legs, and knocked her off her feet and into a pile of debris, pinning her for a moment as the tank lifted up on its anti-grav to clear what was left of that wall as dozens of little plasma streaks hit it as her Protovic infantry opened fire from numerous positions, but it didn’t deter the tank from going after the Archon.

“Aaahhh!” she yelled, summoning up as strong of a telekinetic bubble around herself as possible and pushed everything laying on top of her off…then she was on her feet again, scrambling up a wall and jumping over top of it as another phaser beam hit near her feet. A few seconds later and she was gone, scampering off through the debris and out of sight.

A little too close there, boss, one of the Protovic thought as she caught up to him.

No shit, the Archon replied, not bothering to slow down and chat as she ordered the retreat to continue as a Keema beam struck down from orbit and hit something in the distance. On her battlemap was a set of rings indicating firing range, and even at a glance she knew they were too close to most of the tanks for the orbiting starships to target.

The tanks knew it too, for they were chasing the infantry over the crushed buildings and able to move faster given the fact they could just float up and over the walls and debris piles, forcing the Protovic to either run or try to hide, neither of which was a good idea at the moment, so they just ran and hoped the skeets would get close enough to provide air cover, but there were still so many little missiles shooting up into the sky.

One of them streaked laterally towards the Archon. She barely saw it in time, diving to the ground and creating a telekinetic wall over top of her at an angle like her Master had taught her. The missile hit it and deflected ever so slightly, not enough to trigger it to explode, but enough to get it far enough away from Jaina before it hit a wall and blasted it apart, hitting two Protovic with bits of rubble and causing them to stumble, but they managed to run on.

A new icon lit up with a pulsing signature to get everyone’s attention. It glowed green, meaning it was a safe haven, and she immediately directed the Protovic towards it just in case they didn’t notice it on their own. It was more than a kilometer away but all of them were running fast and not making the mistake to slow and try fighting the tanks, of which there seemed to be far too many for a subsurface bunker.

Jaina stayed behind the Protovic, able to move faster than them but knowing that she needed to provide them cover with a distraction, and lizards always liked going for Archons when they could…plus she had psionics to use that the Protovic did not, and their telepathy wasn’t strong enough to deal with these tanks.

She could have taken out a few of them on her own, but there were too many with overlapping lines of fire. At least the lizard missile launchers couldn’t keep up with her infantry retreat, so they didn’t have that hazard coming at them as they all ran as fast as they could, knowing that Jaina wasn’t going to leave them and not wanting to get her killed with their sluggishness.

At the ‘safe’ marker ahead there were Rammus, already more than 20 of them there with more rolling in rapidly, each carrying a bit of machinery, some of which were so large it was visibly slowing them down. They carried it across the middle, making it look like a big bone they were cradling and rotating around, for they had been designed with a central ring that rotated so the big pieces didn’t have to.

With each one arriving another puzzle piece was added to the construction they were assembling in an open area. Bit by bit it was growing and already partially online. Once sufficient power cells arrived the Rammus activated the shield bubble over an area about the size of a basketball court. It wouldn’t block against missiles, but it would stop phaser hits. It was weak right now, as far as tanks went, but the more pieces that the Rammus brought in would upgrade it with no limit. They’d been designed for specifically this task and could grow to whatever size or strength necessary so long as they had enough of the pieces delivered.

Other Rammus were bringing different gear, flowing into the area like a river of fast moving wheels. The ones that didn’t head to the central generator went to the perimeter, some inside the shield boundary, others outside it. The pale blue dome was visible so everyone knew where it was, friend and foe alike, and would allow the Protovic to run through it given that they were physical rather than energy…though they’d have to drop their shields to do it, otherwise those would bounce off.

Two of the Rammus ran outside the front of the shield and unfurled, setting down a small device that they cobbled together from the two pieces they carried and suddenly there was a new wall across an open area between rubble piles. It looked real enough at a glance, sufficiently torn up to match the surrounding topography as new little wrinkles were added to it as the sensors got a better feel for the location.

The holographic wall was identified on the battlemap so the Protovic would know it wasn’t real and would appear highlighted on their HUD with an overlay…but to the lizards they wouldn’t know the difference.

Other Rammus moved even further ahead, setting up a few more fake walls while others placed turrets and mines, all of which were combined from multiple pieces of equipment given the fact that one Rammus couldn’t carry very much. The genius of the design was that they didn’t have to, and with hundreds of Rammus flowing out to the waypoint on the battlemap they were able to assemble a makeshift base within minutes that the first of the Protovic were now finally getting to.

Missiles streaked overhead, angling towards a skeet that was trying to sneak in over top the base but the lizards were not out of ammunition yet. It took several hits then dove down behind a building where it sat and began recharging shields. The lizards couldn’t keep this up for long, but it seemed like they were intent on killing this Protovic unit and the skeets knew they had to get in there as soon as they could.

When the first three Protovic got to one of the fake walls they ran right through it like ghosts, then were soon inside the protective shield bubble and sucking air as they took cover behind a debris pile as more scattered troops began trickling in. They didn’t hold position long before they started planning out their defense, knowing they’d only have a minute or two at most before the tanks got here.

One of the Rammus pinged a Protovic nearby, then rolled up to him and unfurled with a brand new rocket launcher held up in his hands.

“I owe you one little guy,” he said, picking it up and immediately running to the front edge of the shield.

The Rammus turned around and jumped into a roll as he headed back towards the distant supply outpost, glad to have been of service and rushing to get in another supply run as fast as he could.

With phaser strikes audible behind him he ran through a predetermined course that he was following on his HUD, using his internal balance to keep him aware of where he was without getting dizzy and disoriented with the rolling. It was a natural part of their biology, and even though he only got a brief snippet of the view ahead each time he rotated around it was enough to give him a means to navigate by. The Protovic and Humans couldn’t do that, except for the Archons with their special abilities, but even they couldn’t rotate as fast as Rammus without losing control.

It was a fact that he and the others prided themselves on, training themselves to go faster and faster to increase their usefulness in making multiple runs. He was focused on that when a phaser hit him from the side, blasting into his shieldless armor suit and knocking him off balance for a few turns. He got under control again then saw a bunch of lizard infantry pop up out of nowhere and jump in front of him to block his path in an ambush.

With a sense of fear and adrenaline the Rammus didn’t slow down and plowed right into the group with a tiny jump at the very end by stretching and snapping his rotating circle as much as he could to clear the ground.

When he hit one lizard the green armored wheel sparked with light as a sphere of stun energy was released. The Rammus hit the ground unfurled, then scrambled over the incapacitated bodies and jumped back into wheel mode, continuing on for a few seconds while marking the location on the battlemap of the ambush so others could divert around it.

7

March 13, 3193

Unnamed System (lizard territory)

Planet 12

Jaina sat on a half burnt log in the smoking forest outside what had been a lizard bunker. Barely 100 meters deep into the ground, it had some 5,000 lizards or more in it that her Protovic team had to go in and clean out. The entrance on the surface was small, but had been decently defended and was now little more than a boxy building with chunks of wall blown out where weapons batteries had been.

The entrance had plenty of booby-traps in it that she’d had to find and disable, fortunate enough not to have missed one and gotten some of her people killed, with the rest of the battle having been ground out by the ‘never say surrender’ attitude of the lizards. She could have called down orbital bombardment on that site but had chosen to go in hand to hand in order to make sure they got all of them killed. In previous engagements it had been found that some lizards still survived after orbital bombardment of subsurface structures, and it made it damn hard to get down to them after the pathways were blocked by rubble and dirt. Better to just do it the old fashioned way so you could sign off on an area and move on to the next target.

This was the fourth assault of the day for her unit, some 123 Protovic strong. The missing two had been taken back for medical treatment this morning after getting a bit too close to a lizard with a det pack. Both had survived, but their armor was a mess and their bodies just slightly less so. They’d live, but would be out of action for a while.

The rest of them needed a break, so she’d decided this bunker would be the last offense of the day and logging it as such in the battlemap while posting sentries in case the lizards tried a sneak attack. They’d get some rest then keep pressing forward against the small lizard infrastructure spread throughout the planet’s forest and other wilderness areas. Finding all of the sites was tricky and the lizards were learning how to hide them better, but the one thing they couldn’t do was cleanse a planet and miss some of them, so they had to be thorough and that involved a lot of low flying aircraft with sensor modules and Archons out and about looking for minds where they shouldn’t be.

Her Protovic helped with that, but their telepathic ranges were far shorter than hers. She trusted the Admiral in orbit to find targets for her and feed them either directly or through the commanding mage. At this point Jaina could be commanding some of these ‘small’ planetary invasions herself, but she preferred leading the elite Protovic teams personally rather than staying back and playing planetary strategist. She could, and had done that many times, but had passed up such opportunities more recently when offered.

That wasn’t a big deal with Archons, for they all had their preferred niches. They just had to be able to do any duty when necessary, and Jaina preferred getting involved in taking individual objectives and allowing herself to not worry about anything beyond them. It was when leading a planetary assault she’d have to keep the big picture in mind, with her more than willing to follow someone else’s lead in that regard.

She just wanted a target and a challenge…then to be let loose against it.

As she sat catching her breath a little green armored Rammus rolled up to her and unfurled, walking the last few steps over and opening up his cargo pouches. She saw that he had a bit of ammo, but most of his items were food or water. Jaina reached into two of them, pulling out a bottle of water and a couple of food cubes, both of which were designed for maximum volume use in order to keep them small enough not to interfere with the Rammus’ carry motion too much.

“Thank you,” she said, with the Rammus nodding in typically silent reply and closing his pouches before turning and rolling off elsewhere.

Jaina opened her helmet but kept her armor’s shields up, pushing them out in a bubble around her so she could eat and drink without interference. She took an opening swig of water, then popped one of the dense food cubes into her mouth and slowly chewed, looking around the area with her eyes but taking a moment to rest her Pefbar and trusting in her Protovic sentries to alert her to any surprises before they could get to her.

She looked down at her left leg, seeing the hole in her armor that had started oozing gel in a few tiny places, meaning it had punctured all the way through the tough material. The gel both cushioned and cooled her body within the armor, making the sidewalls of the interior safe to her legs rather than being just as dangerous in an impact as they were on the exterior to whomever she was kicking. Within that gel was a myriad of other things, including biosensors, healing packs, and whatever else the techs could work into it. Whenever it leaked, you knew a shot had hit home.

Fortunately her leg hadn’t been damaged, but that piece of her armor was going to have to be replaced and the Rammus didn’t carry such things in battle…at least not directly.

A few minutes later a pair of skeets flew by overhead preceding an aerial convoy of small transports. Each was outfitted as a light gunship, able to offer ground support or self-defense if needed, but these transports were meant for battlefield logistics assistance rather than combat, especially the large central one. It was bigger than a Dragon-class dropship by far and had the smaller transports flanking in proper formation held so rigid that it was almost comforting to see.

She could have offered a waypoint for landing if she wanted, but knew the Rammus onboard could handle the site selection themselves. That and it didn’t really matter where they set down around here, for there wasn’t anything of value or danger to maneuver around.

Staying put and watching as she finished chewing and began to gulp down half of the water bottle, the six smaller transports spread out into a flying perimeter as the big boxy centerpiece began transforming as it floated about a kilometer away from her. The compact ship expanded greatly, unfurling internal compartments that had been compacted down for transport. The cabin of the craft contained the Rammus crew while the bulk of the transport was inaccessible during flight, packed down so tight not even an Irondel could climb back into it.

Eventually the giant plate spread out and landing gear dropped from it, extending out in a length that would keep it overtop the trees, smoking or otherwise, then the whole assembly lowered and settled itself onto the ground looking like it was standing on stilts. Those sunk in a bit, then lights on the underside turned on despite it still being daylight.

Jaina glanced over her shoulder, seeing the twin suns on the horizon getting low to the ground. Night fighting didn’t bother her, but she hadn’t realized they were that close to losing daylight. She often lost track of time when fighting, but hadn’t expected this planet’s 39 hour day to be over just yet.

When the main assembly was set, the other six transports flew over top of it and landed, connecting to it in order to add the customizable modules needed for this mission. The central assembly was what the Rammus called a ‘Portal,’ for it was a way for field teams to access a bit of civilization no matter where they were. The modules were known as ‘Augments,’ each of which carried more rooms that would be added on top of the Portal. They could be warehouses, factory units, defensive weapons, shield generators…anything and everything that you could possibly imagine up until you found yourself lacking in something.

Then the Rammus would design and build a module for that the next time.

One of these augments, once docked and expanded into a tree-like add-on, dispensed a number of tiny drones into the air that spread out in patrol patterns, both for surveillance and anti-personnel missions as needed. They would monitor the airspace above the trees and give the Portal a heads up of anything coming in from afar, but they didn’t work down in the forest very well, despite having sensors to see through the trees.

Fairly soon she saw the scout armor of the Rammus coming out of the Portal and heading across the semi-clearing in front of her. They rolled through the smoke in a group of six, then dispersed when they got past her. They carried no pouches or supplies of any kind, rather outfitted with sensors and weapons so they could hold and monitor the ground perimeter in addition to the security drones.

This wasn’t the first time Jaina had worked with them and she knew she and the Protovic could now stand down from guard duty, allowing everyone to get some rest while their allies watched over them. She sent that order out, then picked herself up off the log as she finished off her second food cube and headed in the direction of the Portal.

When she got beneath it and walked past one of the thick support pillars that was keeping it aloft without burning fuel on gravity drives, she spotted three different ramps that had been lowered to allow access to the giant portable treehouse. She walked to the nearest one then scaled the stairless ramp as she passed through an energy shield and into the internal air.

Jaina dropped her shields and the armored gloves on her hands, breathing in deeply while flexing her fingers. The planet wasn’t bad, but the crisp air in here felt and smelled a lot better…though she probably didn’t. She headed for an equipment bay and shed her armor there, with bits and pieces contracting down while others split apart. As the decades went by their armor continued to improve, though the outward appearance had stayed much the same. It was the transformational technology that kept getting added, allowing them to put on and take off the armor far faster than in the old days.

The bit on her leg where the major damage was wouldn’t split apart as needed, so she had to pull her leg out of it like a massive boot while several Protovic were around the locker room-style chamber doing much the same thing. Once out of all of it and standing in her sweat soaked casual uniform, she disconnected the damaged segment of her armor and picked up the rest in her left arm. She carried the damaged boot over to the quartermaster, laying it out in front of the unarmored Rammus there with a look of frustration.

“I don’t think you can repair this one. Need to call me in a replacement before I head back out again. I don’t want to bother with a generic suit if I don’t have to,” she said, referring to the ‘one size fits all’ Archon armor sets that adjusted to a user’s dimensions rather than being custom designed to her body.

The Rammus pulled the armor piece across the table to him with stubby arms, then twisted it around in his hands with claw-like fingers picking at various points. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride,” she admitted.

“I’ll call for a replacement from orbit, highest priority,” the shorter Rammus said, looking up at her with its narrow, snout-like face and speaking fairly good English, though it still sounded like he was coughing with every word. This one, she knew, hadn’t been born into Star Force, but one of the early converts that she hadn’t been able to stand back then. Now the Rammus were always a welcome sight on the battlefield so long as they stayed within their support role, which they took to with great pride and efficiency.

“Thanks, Vrita,” Jaina said as she left the Rammus to deal with Protovic armor issues and headed for one of the few personal pods on the Portal. They had a Rammus design aesthetic to them, but had been configured to work for Humans and other Star Force races, though larger ones had to use other customized Portals. As was normal, everything worked for Humans though, and she locked herself inside one of the small rest room/changing/shower compartments.

After cleaning up and donning a new casual uniform she checked herself out of the pod and a waiting Protovic took her place as she found one of the small but private sleeping bunks set into a wall like a honeycomb. She climbed into an empty one head first, then tapped a small control panel near the pillow at the far end. A one-way panel slipped past her feet, closing off the sleeping area from view or sound, though she could still see out of it.

It was a tiny bunk that she couldn’t fully sit up inside without tipping her head slightly, but putting even the smallest of quarters in a mobile facility like this wouldn’t have made sense. What she needed was a place to sleep with the addition of the unnecessary but welcomed privacy. Knowing that the Rammus would be handling security for them and would wake them the moment there was a threat sighted, she let her head hit the pillow and not worry about anything else.

The Portal was far better than sleeping in her armor in the forest or having to ride a dropship back to a firebase or a ship in orbit. They had to make sure the Portals were protected, for they made good, if not quite helpless targets, but so long as they had sufficient air cover and distance from the enemy they would allow her unit to stay in the field indefinitely without getting wore down from fatigue, limited food, or lack of equipment/ammo.

Jaina fell asleep almost immediately, drifting off to dreamless sleep as her body finished digesting those food cubes and a sugar stick that she’d taken out of her own pack before setting it on a rack in the equipment room to be recycled and refilled for her use tomorrow.

But right now it was time to recover, and snugged up in the confining tube she didn’t hear a sound or feel a vibration from those outside or in the bunks beside, above, and below her. She was alone in her little island of serenity in the middle of a war zone, and the Archon knew she would be safe here until morning, as would the rest of her unit. The Rammus might not be that good in combat, but they made for loyal and attentive sentinels.

When she woke, Jaina filled up on a big breakfast then armored up with the rest of her unit, grabbing her refilled pack of ammunition, equipment, and a bit of foodstuffs and water. Enough to last her a few days if needed, for while the Rammus Portals were very welcome, you never knew when they’d be able to get to you, and if there was any real threat against them Jaina would not allow them to come in.

The mobile supply depots were another matter. They were as well armored as the Rammus were, and as Jaina joined her unit outside and began running with them through the forest she saw a new Rammus transport flying in from afar. It landed nearby the Portal as it was disconnecting its augments and packing up. By the time Jaina and her unit were on their way to the next known lizard outpost the Portal and its transports were flying away from danger and back to the nearest Star Force surface base where they would wait until they had an opportunity to aid a field unit again.

The depot, however, was staying put and would be conserving fuel on the ground as it tracked the Protovic, occasionally leap frogging across the terrain to stay close but safely behind them. If it had to deal with wisps it could run and survive long enough to get to help thanks to its thick armor, but it was meant to resupply the unit rather than engage in combat, though it too was decently armed.

Later in the day, when combat was deplenishing the ammo counts of her troops, that depot sprouted a number of offloading ramps out of which the Rammus themselves rolled in several lines of cargo carriers, all of which were headed across considerable distance to the front lines to supply the field unit with ammo, weapons, and whatever other supplies had been requested or assumed to be needed.

It was tricky for the Rammus to pull off without being ambushed or directly targeted by the lizards, but tricky was one thing Star Force’s new little ward was, for they’d been tricking and surviving against the lizards far long than anyone else had been able to, and now they were applying those skills and Star Force tech in new and devious ways, keeping their heads down and enabling the frontline units to become even more effective and efficient than before.

The Rammus might not be killing the lizards themselves, but they were seeing to it that they died in greater numbers and at a faster rate than otherwise, and were quite knowledgeable and proud of that fact.

And as far as the front line combat troops were concerned, they loved the little guys.

8

April 9, 3201

Ivataru (lizard territory)

Inner Zone

When Jaina got to the bridge of the Warship-class jumpship the fleet had already emerged at the destination star and was transitioning around to the jumpline for the known lizard planet of Chammtre, but as she’d been told via comm and could see now for herself on the long range sensors, they were not the first ones to get here.

There was already an ongoing conversation via holo with a waiting beacon for her, so when she sat down in a secondary command chair next to the Captain’s she hit a button and four meter-tall images appeared around her, three of which were Archon mages on other ships in this fleet, but the other was a mage not assigned to them and apparently the commander of the Lacvamat fleet that they were picking up on sensors around the distant planet.

His image was apparently a recorded message being played out, while the others were realtime. She caught the last bit about them needing to survey five sites on the planet for possible survivors, then the rogue mage’s image disappeared.

“What’d I miss?” Jaina asked.

“Apparently we’ve got word from independent sources that there might be an indigenous population on this planet that the lizards haven’t discovered yet,” Arron-44920 explained. “The Lacvamat fleet was sent to investigate but they’ve not had much luck on the ground. They’ve cleared out orbit of lizard warships and begun some ground bombardment, but so far they can’t find any of these hidden outposts. They need ground assistance for the search.”

“Why Lacvamat?”

“Looks like they were the only sizeable unit available. They’re holding down the airspace over the designated regions, but we’ve got to go to ground to investigate. Jaina, you’ll knock out this lizard base,” he said as a zoomed-in planetary hologram popped up with a waypoint on it a fair distance from the nearest of the marked exploration zones. “Get us a solid foothold.”

“What about anti-orbital defenses?”

“The nearest ones have already been knocked out. If we stay within the brackets we’ll be fine. Madi, you’ve got search zone 1. Knock out the lizard outposts in the area then do an extensive search. Trevor, zone 2. I’ve got 3. We’re told these guys are amphibian, so if you see any water down there that’s probably a good place to start.”

“What water?” Madi asked, seeing a planet full of vegetation but only a scattering of tiny lakes and rivers.

“Doesn’t make much sense to me, but these guys have been running some smuggling routes off this planet. They know how to hide.”

“Smuggling past the lizards?” Jaina said, doing a double take. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what we’ve been told. Not a lot, but an occasional ship in and out.”

“How?”

“Good question. We’ll find out when we find them.”

“Are we working with the Lacvamat or keeping our distance?” Trevor asked.

“They’re going to keep the skies clear and assist where able. When we make orbit begin immediate deployment. For some reason our contacts believed the locals were under some sort of time constraint, so let’s not delay…and keep your eyes open. Something about this feels weird.”

“A trap?” Madi asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Did we get a name at least?” Jaina asked.

“No. Whoever these guys are they like to keep a low profile.”

“Then what was the rush…to us anyway?”

“Yuri didn’t say. He just got orders to come out here and investigate and pave the way for us.”

“I wonder what was worth smuggling?” Trevor asked.

“One way to find out,” Arron said. “Let’s get to work.”

The holograms in front of Jaina disappeared, save for Madi’s. “Looks like you get to take the biggest crack this time.”

“I don’t mind that. At least I know the lizards.”

“This doesn’t feel right to me either. There must be something really important down there.”

“Let me know when you find it.”

“Will do, sister. Happy hunting,” the mage said as her hologram also vanished.

“Nearing the jumppoint, Archon.”

“Make the jump as soon as possible, Captain. Apparently we’re in a rush.”

“What do you want opened?”

“Give me cover as you see fit and coordinate with the Lacvamat so you don’t accidentally shoot any of them,” she said with a touch of frustration.

“They’re Star Force, so what’s the issue?”

“I’ve never worked with them before.”

“We’ll be careful,” the Protovic captain promised. “You going down first?”

“Duh,” she said, giving him a stupid look.

“Would you like a landing zone flattened for you?” he said, his voice going heavily sarcastic.

“No, we’re taking theirs. Signal our ships to prepare for hot drop,” she said, getting up out of her chair and heading for the hangar bays.

“Could have made credits on that,” one of the Protovic crew muttered after she’d gone.

“Assuming someone would have been stupid enough to take that bet,” the Captain said with a smirk. “As soon as we make orbit, pull up all the records from the Lacvamat and double check their kill history. Let’s make sure the clear zones really are clear before we send our people down. We’re assuming ground control, so let’s make sure we get everything squared away. No mistakes.”

“We’ll make sure the bats got it right,” another crewer said as helm signaled that they were ready to make their microjump as other ships were visible doing so ahead of them.

“Big ass bats,” the Captain corrected. “Execute jump.”

Jaina rode down to the planet in the back seat of a two person mech, being dropped off near their target base by dropship as she controlled her remote star of mechs while her Protovic pilot handled their own. Three other stars assembled with them and marched across the grassland towards the craggy rocks that surrounded the lizard base. It wasn’t a city per se, but rather a military fortification that contained a variety of buildings, which was odd on a planet like this. Perimeter turrets were plentiful and it also had decent anti-air capability, prompting the land assault.

It also had a single anti-orbital battery, which had meant the dropships had to come down to the surface far away then skim overland to get to their LZ, but now that they were below the big gun’s range Jaina was going to bust up this base, take it down, and work on securing a proper foothold for a much larger invasion heading north while the search teams were located on one of six continents in the southern hemisphere outlined by mountain ranges and a handful of rivers.

With her mind plugged into the mini nexus software, Jaina drove four mechs simultaneously, each of which was outfitted with additional weapons, armor, shields, and anything else they could squeeze into the space that otherwise would have been reserved for a pilot. That made them tougher and, above all else, expendable if need be, while the other 15 mechs out there were all piloted by Protovic.

As they came within range they began a sniping exchange, the phaser turrets crossing the distance with badly aimed shots while a few of the mechs returned fire with baby cleansing beams. Jaina made sure two of the turrets were down before she gave the order to charge, then all 20 mechs began running across the grass up towards the rocks that ringed the base. As distances closed more weaponry opened up on both sides, but with that pair of turrets down the exchange was tolerable to cross the distance up to the base wall.

Before they got here they had to pass the rocks, some of which were building sized. Keeping an eye on the depression angle of the really big gun, the mechs with jump jets floated up and over them while the ones that did not climbed and mechanically leapt over the hazards, fighting their way up to the nearest turrets and taking them down before the mechs began getting hit too hard.

The group of them took refuge against the lizard wall, spreading out both directions to begin stripping the nearest turrets away with overwhelming firepower one at a time. Meanwhile Jaina’s star began pounding on the wall, not wanting to jump up and over it and into the fire zone of the anti-air batteries. It took a while, but eventually they pounded enough of a hole that they were able to press through…right into the guns of a huge tank formation.

Jaina pulled back the drone mech she’d sent in first as it was getting hammered, coming back out through the gap with ample armor damage.

“We’re going through phalanx style,” she told her pilot. “Put us fourth in line.”

The four drone mechs in her star lined up beside the eastern wall, leaving a gap for the control mech to slide in. Once in place all of them sidestepped to get out from the wall and make a less sharp angle to the gap, then the five bunched as close together as they could and Jaina shifted the lead mech’s shields full forward and charged the formation into the lizards’ firing line.

Her mech came through safely, but the first one lost its shields and an arm before the other four spread out and savaged the surrounding tanks. They’d been arrayed in a hemisphere with their full attention on the breach point, maximizing their firepower, but now that the Star Force mechs had gotten within melee range they were at a disadvantage and suffered the consequences.

When Jaina got those mechs cleared out she put her two wounded ones in the back of her star and proceeded through the base knocking out whatever shot at them and working their way towards the big gun in the center as the other mechs made their way back around to the breach point and followed them in in ones and twos. Jaina waited for them to catch up before she pushed too far, then the twenty mechs worked together to force their way up to the big gun and began chipping away at it with their weapons.

They got counterattacked four times and had to fend off lizard tanks, wisps, and infantry before finally being left more or less alone to chew through the thick armor of the turret tower. When they did Jaina sent a mech almost all the way inside to trash the interior. It blasted away at point blank range until their sensors determined the tower was inoperable.

When that happened Jaina tagged it as out, then recalled that mech and brought all of them together into a small opening within the base. It looked like a courtyard but the lizards didn’t have such niceties in their cities, at least not for the sake of mingling anyway. The 20 mechs clustered there and put themselves back to back in a defensive posture as they waited for the orbital bombardment to begin.

The shield tower they’d not bothered with, so the now low flying naval drones were hammering it as they came down through the atmosphere so they could get into better range and not worry about hitting the mechs accidentally. When the shield finally came down the triangular wedges that were the Protovic drones hovered over the city looking like tiny birds in the air, but birds that were raining down precision weapons strikes against the remaining turrets and any other large defenses that could be identified.

The mechs waited it out, then when the ‘all clear’ was signaled they broke up by stars and began to roam the base looking to clean up whatever else was left as the infantry were on approach in more dropships. When they arrived they’d do a room by room search with sensors and psionics to make sure that every last inch of this lizard base was clean of the vermin.

With a replacement mechwarrior taking over her control of the drones, Jaina got down dirtside with the rest of the infantry and helped them clean out the buildings in the base, including the subsurface structures, then got back to the surface in time to see a huge flock of Lacvamat flying overhead a few kilometers up.

She checked the battlemap and compared it to their heading, seeing that a Lacvamat ship was coming down from orbit nearby. They were probably cycling out at the end of a patrol, with the ship coming low into the atmosphere for them to fly into. They didn’t use traditional dropships, rather these considerably larger transports with dorsal entry. They rarely landed on the surface of a planet, but when they did they usually were laden up with cargo with too small a workforce to empty it quickly, otherwise they’d just hover over the ground and let the Lacvamat workers fly in the top, scoop up the supplies, and fly them out to wherever they needed them.

As she was taking a moment to watch them and snoop out what else was happening around the planet via battlemap, a section of the Lacvamat flock broke off and dove down towards the surface. Jaina frowned and zoomed in on that section, seeing sporadic enemy signatures popping up. There was nothing but grassland there, but somehow there were lizards out in the open where there had been none previously.

With a quick check of her surroundings to make sure she was safe, Jaina walked over to a chunk of lizard wall and started inputting commands, getting a sensor highlight on that region from orbit that allowed her to zoom in to the surface and see what was happening in real time.

Not surprisingly, the Lacvamat were dive bombing lizard infantry and making a mess of the little green guys, but she was more interested in seeing where the lizards were coming from. It wasn’t until one of the Lacvamat swung low and actually landed did she find what she was looking for. He pulled away a grass mat to expose a hole in the ground, dirt walled, that led down deeper than was visible. Jaina was now pulling visuals directly from the Lacvamat’s armor, looking down inside and seeing the little claw marks where the lizards had pulled themselves out through the dirt.

The Archon was about to pull up an intense sensor focus but someone else beat her to it, for the sensor map enhanced immediately and was growing in detail as a drone descended from orbit. By the time it got near the ground Jaina could make out the slight sensor distortion in the faked subsurface structure that indicated a lizard sensor blind, meaning the lizards had some sort of bunker there, and it was far away from any of their nearest outposts.

Jaina adjusted her comm, about to call in and offer to send some of her Protovic over with Rammus digging equipment to start tearing out that bunker when she got an incoming comm.

“I’ve found them,” Madi said, though her voice was a bit more tense than it should be. Jaina noticed that it was a multiple comm message, with all the mages in the Protovic fleet being included. “And I think they’re freaking out.”

“Define freaking out,” Arron said.

“They’re below ground, and from the visuals I’m pulling from their minds there’s water down there. Sensors aren’t showing it, so it must be some type of blind, but they’re down there, and I can feel a few of them freaking out. I think it’s spreading to all of them.”

“Did they see you?” Jaina asked.

“No…” Madi said hesitantly. “They felt me.”

“Meaning?” Trevor asked.

“I didn’t pet them,” Madi said snippily.

“They’re telepathic?” Arron asked.

“Yeah. They tried to get inside my head in response to me snooping in theirs and hit my Ikrid block…and now they’re freaking out. I get the feeling they’ve hid from the lizards by playing Jedi mind tricks on them. Now I’m here, with telepathic powers too, and they can’t affect me. Hence, they’re freaking out.”

“And doing what?”

“Moving around inside. I can’t sense too many of them, so I think they’re dug in deep, but I am pulling as much information as I can from the few up top…and they’re really not liking that either.”

“Have you found an entrance?”

“Not yet.”

“What are they?” Jaina asked.

“Turtles.”

“Turtles?” Arron asked.

“Flippers and all. They couldn’t fight a lizard hand to hand even if they had 100 to 1 odds. I get the feeling they do everything with telepathy and tech, and this hidden city is evading our sensors too. All I’m picking up now is a flat panel a few dozen meters below the surface. Everything else beyond that is blocked.”

“I can understand why they’re freaking,” Trevor agreed. “They’ve got no defense against us and we just blew their cover.”

“Can you try and calm them down?” Arron asked.

“Trying but failing. They’re just getting more and more worked up.”

“Can you take control of one?” Jaina asked.

“Not at this range.”

“We need to find a door.”

“I’m on it. But I get the feeling that there are a whole lot of them down there…and by down there I mean inside the planet. More than the lizards I’d guess, and I think I just ticked them all off.”

9

April 14, 3201

Ivataru (lizard territory)

Planet 4

Jaina sat crosslegged on the grass in her aquatics armor next to Madi, both of the Archons linked in battlemeld and projecting their extended range telepathy downward into another portion of the ‘turtles’ hidden civilization. They sat on what they’d discovered to be a concealed hangar bay, patiently trying to reach those beneath them and confer upon them the reason they were here and that they were no threat.

It wasn’t going well. They’d been at it two days, taking breaks for workouts and sleep, but otherwise they were here, using their linked abilities to probe as deeply as they could. They didn’t want to break in and force their way underground and were hoping that they could come to an understanding via telepathy, but so far there were only a few beneath them within range…yet they could sense that those were there specifically to receive their ‘manipulations.’

That’s how the turtles saw them. The rest of their population was out of range but were able to sense through those exposed. Had Jaina been down there she wouldn’t have liked to have been the one to draw the short straw, but either these few had or they’d volunteered. Regardless, they were still very much afraid and continually vexed having had their secret entrance to their secret civilization located. The lizards were far from here and the Protovic and Lacvamat were keeping them away, leaving only the two Archons to politely keep knocking on the telepathic door. How long they’d keep doing that though, was a matter of question.

They could just leave them alone, rid the planet of the lizards then leave them be. However, they really didn’t want to do that given how few races actually possessed telepathy, even if it was an inferior form. It was becoming obvious to Jaina that the V’kit’no’sat telepathy was the premium variety, with far more depth and intricacy than was standard. She’d never fully understood that, just thinking that the Protovic telepathy was limited. Now that she’d gotten inside a turtle’s head it was becoming clear that the Zen’zat had gotten the Super Saiyan variety standard.

Not only was her telepathy raw power higher than the turtles’, there was so much she could do with it that they couldn’t. There were blind spots where she could go in their minds that even they could not. For example, they could transmit and receive while locating other minds, but they couldn’t pinpoint locate anyone. Not alone anyway. They needed several of them working together to lock down a person’s location. On their own they could sense the general area and transmit to it, but they couldn’t correlate that with their physical senses well at all.

She was also realizing they made up for a lot of things by using the group. They didn’t have battlemeld or anything like it, they just collaborated their telepathic insights as if using multiple sensors to look at the same target then sharing data. It didn’t raise their raw power any, and she was pretty sure two-way communication was locked out from multi-transmission, but these were genuine telepaths and she was wondering if they were hiding for the same reasons the Protovic Pinks had been. Were these guys hunted down too because they could get inside people’s heads?

“I’m getting sick of this,” Madi suddenly said out loud, though she didn’t need to having been linked with Jaina, for the Archon could sense the words even as she said them. “They’re not going to let us in. They’re playing ‘turtle,’ pun intended.”

“We can give it a while more.”

“Or…”

Jaina sighed. “That’ll really tick them off.”

“Well I’m tired of waiting, and we’re doing them the favor of kicking out the lizards so…they can tolerate it.”

“Fair enough,” Jaina agreed. “I’m tired of sitting here too.”

The pair didn’t say anymore, instead focusing their telepathy on those individuals below. They’d pulled a lot of information from their minds already regarding the layout below, including the controls to open the concealed bay doors. Picking one of the turtles below, they focused on him with their combined power and barely managed to take control of his mind. They held him steady at first, cementing their hold, then had him swim closer to the surface. They also made sure to look out for the others in case they tried to stop him, but the Archons were pretty sure the turtles had no idea anyone could do this.

They had their little guy find his way to the bay door controls and hit the release, then released him from their control but knocked him unconscious, along with anyone else that was in range so they couldn’t contest their entry.

The ground they sat on jolted, then slowly rose up with them sitting on what was basically a giant plate of dirt and grass. It raised up above ground level then rotated around a fixed point on one edge, moving the plate clear of the circular opening as the Archons stood up and walked towards the pivot point.

Looking down they saw an empty room big enough to accommodate ship traffic, but with nothing in sight. They knew the bay was much wider than the opening, so Madi casually jumped off the edge and slowly fell on the end of a Bataf conduit from Jaina, with the invisible rope disconnecting a meter above the floor. The Archon dropped the rest of the way and landed gracefully in a partial crouch, seeing several ships around the perimeter of the mostly empty bay. This was obviously a receiving area, and from their mind raids they knew that other races they somewhat trusted as intermediaries would fly their ships in here and have the hatch sealed while they conducted business.

Madi extended a Bataf conduit up like a pole and Jaina rode down on it, joining her on the bay floor. They left the entrance open, not worried about the lizards while they had their troops on the surface keeping them well away from the vulnerable turtles.

“Time to get wet,” Jaina said, gesturing to the hatch to the south.

“Yep. Let’s take it slow so we don’t look like we’re chasing any of them.”

“They’re already freaking out,” she said, sensing them more easily now that they were closer and resisting the urge to knock them out too now that there were more in range.

“Let’s go say hi and get this over then,” Madi said, getting a telekinetic grip on the light hatch and pulling it open without needing the hydraulics. Just below the rim of the rectangular cutout was the water, and it immediately struck both Archons as being foul.

“I guess they have something more than water in it,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Looks clear though.”

“Probably their version of air freshener. Just be glad we didn’t bring any Elarioni. They’d probably gag on it,” Madi said, sitting down on the edge and sliding in feet first with Jaina following a few seconds later.

When they got in the water their helmets automatically shut out the air and switched over to internal oxygen. Whereas their normal armor had a short backup air supply, the aquatics armor had far more stuffed inside the bulkier construct and could be augmented for days with additional backpacks. Also, if there was oxygen in the water their armor could draw it out directly, allowing them unlimited time underneath the water. If there wasn’t they could even slowly add oxygen to their reserves through hydrolysis, but that wouldn’t be enough for them to stay active. If that was all they had left they’d have to stop moving and get their breathing very, very low…but that was far better than dying.

All of that meant that the Archons were perfectly comfortable sealed up inside their armor as they went underwater. Both of them immediately began transmitting calming telepathic waves but including a bit of annoyance, making it clear they didn’t like waiting outside. They wanted to talk to the turtles and they made that known, but did so trying to make it clear that they weren’t the lizards and weren’t going to hurt any of them.

“Little bastards,” Jaina said, seeing ahead with her Pefbar.

“No kidding,” Madi said, referencing the defense turrets popping out of the walls. “Let’s make it clear who they’re trying to shoot.”

Both of the Archons swam forward using the jets in their arms and legs for propulsion as they reached out and telekinetically grabbed the little minnow-like darts being fired towards them. Freezing them in mid swim they held them there, knowing that the turtles would be watching on vid screens or whatever else they used.

Once the Archons got close enough they used their telekinesis to reach inside the turrets and break or bend what was needed to disable them. One by one they went offline as the Archons casually swam by the interior defenses continually mentally transmitting their ‘we come in peace’ vibe, but apparently these guys had seen Mars Attacks and weren’t buying it, so the pair swam to find the nearest one that they’d rendered unconscious.

When they saw it they were surprised by the glow coming off him. He was floating in the water just off the floor, suggesting these guys were a bit on the sinker side, and was covered in a more rounded shell than a typical turtle, but he had four flipper-like legs, no tail, and a stubby head that had small tentacles on it that doubled as hands. It looked gross, but it appeared they just head-butted their controls and made alterations from inches away.

This guy had four short, almost tiny arms bracketing his two eyes and mouth, but it was his shell that was glowing deep red on vein-like lines. The rest of his body didn’t glow, but neither Archon had expected that for none of the visuals they’d taken from their minds had shown it.

“They can’t see it?” Madi wondered.

“I guess not,” she said, noticing that the interior was dark. They’d been using their Pefbar and hadn’t noticed, but the lights around the rim of the hallways were dim. Jaina did a check on the light sources with her HUD, seeing that they only slightly bled over into the visible light spectrum for Humans. Most of it was ultraviolet, with her guessing that the red end was out of their ability to see. Odd that they’d be producing it, but then again Humans glowed in infrared and couldn’t see it, though not in only specific areas. On the turtles it almost seemed like decorative trim.

“Alright, let’s wake this guy up,” Madi said. Jaina held him steady, pulling him up off the floor so his flippers couldn’t hit anything but water and keeping him there with her invisible grip while the other mage slowly brought him back to consciousness. As she did so she started working on him, dosing him up heavily with calming and soothing emotions while letting him get minimally aware of their presence.

But eventually a point was reached when he realized they were not his kin and he started freaking out, but neither Archon would relent. He spent several minutes spasming, trying to swim but unable to, and with far worse things occurring inside his mind.

The mages didn’t move, merely staying still and calm and talking to him using emotions and senses given that they didn’t know their language. They kept bombarding him with the notion of ‘friend’ until he finally settled down, though it was more from exhaustion than acceptance. Knowing the razor’s edge they were walking, both of the Archons proceeded slowly, not moving, and working on him telepathically as they gradually released the physical restrictions.

When they did fully release him he bolted, getting across a few meters far faster than he looked capable of, but Jaina gently slowed him down to a stop and came swimming up beside him.

You’re not going anywhere buddy, so just chill.

“Heads up, his friends are coming.”

“Good,” Jaina said, sensing the other turtles on approach. “Let’s speed this up.”

“They’re armed.”

“So?”

“Right,” Madi agreed. “Hang onto our friend. I’ll deal with them,” she said, swimming off a few meters.

Jaina stayed put, looking through Madi’s eyes but otherwise not paying attention to what was going on behind her. She kept trying to soften up this one’s mind but years of paranoia and ignorance were layered into its mind and hard to get through. By not harming it some of those layers were peeling off in calculation, and she knew if she so much as stubbed its toe that bit of progress would be undone, so she just held him still as Madi stopped more of the little missiles that were being fired from backpacks on the other turtles.

Jaina grabbed a handful of them from where Madi had them floating and pulled them over in front of her little guy’s face. She grabbed them in her hand, held them for a moment, then pushed them down to the floor and away from both of them.

She heavily insisted that there was ‘no need’ for those weapons, and finally she felt something click in this one. Taking a guess, she slowly released her hold on him. His emotions spiked again, feeling the ability to run, but he checked himself and just stared at her hard, unmoving body, then she felt him say something to the others and they all stopped moving, just looking at the two intruders.

“Progress,” Jaina noted.

“Keep it up.”

“Working on it,” she said, bringing an image of the lizards to both of their minds and sending it the feelings of hate and revulsion, trying to make it understand that they were an enemy. When she felt understanding she added a vision of the galaxy, then zoomed down to the stars the lizards held, seeing them as little green dots, then showed them winking out in bunches coming up to this star.

Then a first happened. The turtle asked her a question. It wasn’t in words, but rather a concept. Isolation and acceptance. It wanted to know if they were going to leave the turtles alone.

It took some work, but eventually she was able to get the idea across that Star Force didn’t want this planet, they only wanted to remove the lizards from it. Then she went on to infer that they wanted communication with the turtles, but nothing more. Doing so without words was difficult, so she worked to try to get it to understand that they wanted a sample of their language to learn.

The other turtles were on the edge of blowing up inside, but this one was acting as an intermediary and Jaina stuck with him. After some not so successful attempts at him speaking to her, he pictured an image of one of their display screens and directed her to it. She accepted, then let him go and gently followed. The others freaked out again as soon as she moved, but her guide kept his nerve and Jaina kept reinforcing the calming emotions flowing to him, sensing that if she didn’t filter out all the noise from the others he’d freak out again too. The communal mind here was strong, almost to lemming levels, so Jaina decided to keep this guy in her camp constantly, not wanting to let their progress slip by releasing her telepathic domination of him.

It was odd. Usually such interference was used to cause problems with others, but she was actually helping him, giving him far more emotional structure and clarity of perception than his race had. In essence she was making him emotionally smarter by plugging her mind into his. That was a crude way to describe it, but given that all they had right now was crude communication it seemed fitting. The others obviously didn’t like what was happening to him, for they could feel it a bit and he was still communicating with them, but she knew from Madi that they thought he was in some sort of trance or possession.

More like helping someone with a limp stand up straight, but whatever. So long as this guy was playing along the others could freak out all they wanted.

The turtles’ display screens were small for the most part. There were a few large ones for general viewing, but the work stations were no bigger than their faces. That was due to the fact that their arms didn’t reach more than a few inches, meaning they were literally planting their faces in the tiny screens to work.

Her new friend did just that, working one of the consoles and bringing up an image of text on one of the bigger screens in what looked like some sort of monitoring room.

“Surface surveillance,” Madi filled in. “They keep track of the lizards a lot.”

“Big surprise,” Jaina said, having to adjust her HUD to see the ultraviolet displays that otherwise looked like ghostly images just spilling over into the visual spectrum, much like their hallway lights. She didn’t recognize the script, but thanked the turtle for showing it to her as she recorded her helmet telemetry so the analysts could study them later.

It wanted to know if she understood them, and she inferred ‘no, but that they would learn.’

The turtled popped its head back into its working face plant and tweaked a control with one of its face arms.

The text changed, not just saying something else, but into another form entirely.

“Different languages,” Jaina guessed. “They’ve got to have relations with other races out there if they’ve got smuggling going on. Hopefully we can recognize one of these.”

She recorded this one and gave the turtle a negative thought. It switched to another and another, running her through a list until it was her turn to freak out.

“Madi!” she said, a bit of trepidation spiking in her. The turtle apparently sensed a bit of it and recoiled as if he had done something wrong. Before he started wondering if he was going to get killed Jaina dismissed her own emotions to a corner of her mind that wouldn’t transmit to him, then calmed him down while quickly explaining that she did recognize it, but that it was the language of an enemy.

“Never thought I’d need this,” she told Madi, activating a tiny laser on her helmet that was configured to be a projector. Why it had been included in their armor she’d never really known, but now it was going to be incredibly helpful until they figured out how to interface with the turtles’ own comm systems. Different technology didn’t allow for plug and play options, and mating up computer systems was a pain in the ass that required some pretty good software techs. Fortunately they had some of them onboard the ships in orbit.

Jaina configured it for their light spectrum, sampling what was coming off the monitors and reciprocating, then she spoke the words she wanted and had them displayed in script on a nearby wall that she directed the turtle to.

“Asc ratch cu. Asc sen burtu,” she said in V’kit’no’sat.

10

March 2, 3202

Solar System

Earth

Davis walked into his office in the early morning, having just finished a pre-dawn workout in time to see the sun just climbing over Atlantis’s buildings on the east side. He sat down at his desk feeling the post-workout relaxation as he brought up his logged messages, finding 122 new ones since leaving his office yesterday.

That was typical, and he breezed through most of the notifications until he came to a rather long one. It was a data update from Sara concerning the Tamni, whose language translation was still ongoing. The turtle-like race spoke V’kit’no’sat only so far as it was in their databanks and therefore offered a means of limited communication, but overall they were not familiar with it aside from being an obscure language from their distant past.

But the fact that they knew it had been a big concern, especially since they were considerably far beyond the furthest reaches of the V’kit’no’sat empire. In this update Sara shed some clarity on that, detailing that the Tamni were not local to this region. About 330,000 years ago they were involved in a civil war that saw this faction leave their homeworld in the Sagittarius Arm. They ran far, horrified at what had happened to their kin and what they’d been forced to do defending themselves. They left their traitorous kin behind and hid themselves away further rimward.

They were pursued for a long time, then local threats forced them underground and they kept periodically moving so they could avoid their enemies, which were rapidly growing in number thanks to their benign persona and their advanced technology that many wished to exploit, for they were trading bits of it away in exchange for resources and continued to do so to this day, which was why some races were willing to try and slip past the lizard empire in order to get to them.

They had had no contact with the V’kit’no’sat, fortunately, but they knew their language as well as the commonplace knowledge to stay the hell away from their scattering of outposts and not to attract their attention. They hadn’t had many footholds, but from those they did the V’kit’no’sat dominated the region with everyone else keeping their heads down whenever they came around. Fortunately that was almost never, and the Tamni and other races went on about their business aware of the threat of the V’kit’no’sat but never having to deal with them outside of rare circumstances…but the example of those few who did was enough to let everyone else know that they could not be challenged, and to do so even once was suicide.

But this data update was more about the Tamni and their split, along with more details on their race and current activities. Their technology was impressive in some regards and primitive in others. What they were trading to others often involved small scale things. Medicines, genetic alterations, nanotechnology, stealth equipment…but no weapons. No ships either. Their gravity drives were decent, but overall their starship capability was dismal. They were not engineered to fight, or even defend. This was a race that did not like being in space, so their ships were designed to get them from planet to planet and that was about it.

Which also explained why people came to them rather than them going out to customers. They traded their technological services for raw materials they couldn’t get on their current planet and hoarded them. Sara indicated that she had offered to trade them a great deal more, and as a result the Tamni were offering up more information than she’d even requested. It seemed that they were always lacking for something and having to ration various things. Food wasn’t one of them, but their civilization was perpetually on life support. Stable, but unable to grow in any meaningful way.

And since coming out to this galactic arm they’d been unable to acquire any Solari, meaning there was a whole host of machines they couldn’t build. When Sara had told them they’d be able to trade for that as well, in small amounts, they’d immediately reversed their isolationist footing and wanted to open a permanent link to Star Force.

Sara had indicated that she was going to set up a small colony on the planet to act as an intermediary and trading partner, but wanted Davis to choose which faction it should come from.

He thought about that for a moment. The Bsidd had the largest population and this world wasn’t far from their region, but there were other races within Star Force that were looking to expand and he figured this would be a good opportunity to throw one of them a bone. This colony wasn’t going to grow to cover the entire planet, rather be restricted to a piece of it that it would develop to fill then remain contained. The Tamni owned the planet, which Sara was willing to concede to them even though it was Star Force that had removed the lizards from it, and the colony was just going to be a link into the Star Force markets in an otherwise empty region.

So that limited growth potential meant the best choice would be a ward. The colony would be open to the public, so not quite an Axius deal but it wouldn’t be closed off to one faction only like many worlds were. Davis needed a ward to run it, but one that could facilitate both Star Force traffic and other visitors while allowing the Tamni to maintain their privacy.

There were several wards that could do that, but one that had been chomping at the bit was the Aronsic. Ever since the end of the Skarron war they’d been eager beavers with little to do. Their population hadn’t grown rapidly due to a lack of females recovered from Skarron planets, but over time that had rectified itself and they numbered about 3 billion spread across two systems and 4 planets. Neither of those systems were controlled by them, with Mainline colonies and other wards present, so giving them a chance to expand beyond that would be most welcome.

Davis knew he needed to assign a veteran Administrator to the task though to handle the interface with the Tamni and to set up the links to the transit network. He pulled up one of his quick lists of personnel and input a search parameter that gave him 294 candidates. He scanned the list briefly, with only a few names sticking out at him, then he picked a Kiritas named Briddi and brought up her file.

She was 493 years old, had worked a stint with the Kiritak that lasted 43 years before returning to the Kiritas faction and helping to run one of their major trade hubs. After that she’d moved to an Axius posting, then over to work with the Calavari before finally landing in a Mainline colony with a high Administrator ranking, but not quite good enough to warrant a Monarch posting. Her skills weren’t widespread enough for that, but her proven abilities would cover this assignment easily.

He logged the transfer request and sent it off immediately. There was a chance she wouldn’t want to go, but typically most Star Force transfers weren’t declined. On occasion someone would want to stay with a particular faction, but given how much Briddi had been moving around he didn’t see a problem with it…especially since he was assigning her to the top position in a new colony. That’d be a new mark for her and he had no doubts that she’d jump at it, as most Administrators were accustomed to doing. There was so much work to do in the empire, but so few top positions available that any time you could run an operation, let alone a planet, an Administrator couldn’t afford to pass up the opportunity if they had aims to increase their skillset and work their way up the leadership ranks.

And most of them knew that Davis was watching them. Monarchs were handpicked by him, and it was assumed that the more challenging of tasks that an Administrator could do the more they’d show up on his radar for future assignments. Running a world of your own was usually a Monarch’s job, so even though this was only going to be a small colony, it was the type of situation where an Administrator could show off, especially when it was being built from scratch. Briddi would be able to design it as she saw fit, and it would also be a chance to see how she could work with the Aronsic and utilize their skills.

“Knock, knock,” Paul said, coming up the stairway into his office.

“Morning,” Davis greeted, pausing his work as he looked at the now black haired trailblazer. “What happened to the blue?”

“Felt like a change,” he said, spinning a chair around and straddling it. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to say hello to the new ViLord,” Davis said with a smile.

“You’re close to acolyte yourself.”

“Plodding along as usual, yes. Adept 98 and near to 99.”

“So long as you’re improving, the rate doesn’t matter.”

“Says the guy who’s constantly racing Morgan for new ranks.”

“Friendly competition,” Paul corrected with a smirk.

“I take it she’s not too happy you beat her to it.”

“Knowing Morgan, she’s ticked off. I haven’t talked to her since, but to be fair I’ve been camping out in the advanced training program and been making up ground. She hasn’t been back here since she moved her Clan to the border.”

“Think this will bring her back for a bit?”

“I doubt it. She’ll just try to train harder where she is…or build a bigger sanctum. How many worlds are you going to let her take?”

“As many as she can.”

“This is Morgan we’re talking about. She’ll be at the galactic core eventually.”

“Not if she keeps expanding laterally. Am I sensing some professional jealousy?”

“Yes,” Paul admitted. “She’s got the most territory of any Clan now, by far.”

“It was hard earned.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“As was your ViLord rank.”

“Point taken.”

“So…what is Clan Saber up to now?”

“Like you don’t already know.”

“I don’t know everything, just a lot. What are you focusing towards?”

“Primarily…naval tweaks. Can’t beat the V’kit’no’sat if we can at least hold the line in engagements where we have a 10 to 1 advantage. We’re not there yet, but we need to be.”

“How do you think they’ll respond to the drones?”

“I’ve been discussing that with Jason quite a bit. If they can’t jam them, they’ll either go straight for the control ships or ignore them completely. Either way we can use that to our advantage if we can shave down their tech advantage. If we can’t, then it’s going to get ugly in the best case scenarios.”

Davis sat up in his chair and leaned forward, bringing up a map of the scattering of Clan Saber holdings, along with numerous holographic windows of Clan stats.

“You’ve done well, Paul. Damn well. As have the rest of you. But with you…I know you’ve got something else in the works. You’ve covered your tracks well, but you’re operating a lot of your colonies with a cushion. Not much, but I know you’re more efficient than that. And not resources. I mean personnel. You’ve got too much staff logged in across the board. Where are they really at?”

Paul stared at him for a moment, then hung his head. “Damn you.”

“I guessed right then,” Davis said, not having been sure until now.

“I thought I hadn’t left any traces.”

“You didn’t.”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I hadn’t.”

“I don’t think anyone else would notice, especially since it’s Clan-wide. You each do things differently, but I’ve been with you from the beginning so I know how you think. There is no giveaway in your Clan stats that I could find, it just doesn’t fit your mojo. No outsider would spot that. So…what are you working on?”

“Not working on. Already done,” Paul said with a sigh. “Notice anything about Clan Sangheili?”

Davis’s head ticked to the side. “No.”

“Add insult to injury,” Paul scoffed.

“A joint venture?”

“Yeah. Something off the books in case our computer systems were compromised. Jason should be running excess personnel too?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, but then again he’s always been a little heavy handed in that department.”

“I’ve never paid that close of attention to how the others operated. Do we all have a fingerprint like that?”

“Oh yes. Even when you’re doing the same things there are telltale signs, though things sometimes alter when you get a new Marquis. Some of them add more flair while others go by the book and don’t alter what you’ve already established, merely adding to and repeating it.”

“Renning?” Paul guessed, referencing Jason’s current Marquis.

“There was a shift when he came on. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t notice the personnel shift, if Jason is doing the same thing you are?”

“He is. We decided to spawn a new Clan in secret. One off the books and without territory.”

“Kara?” Davis guessed.

Paul shook his head. “You really know us too well.”

“I’m on your side, so don’t worry about it.”

“Thankfully.”

“So where is this new Clan…”

“Ghostblade. It’s outside Star Force territory, raiding lizard shipping and worlds for resources to fuel a mobile fleet. Right now they’re working on a tiny moveable star forge. All the personnel are Clan Saber and Sangheili members, but all resources and ships are built beyond Star Force bookkeeping.”

Davis leaned back in his chair, eyeing the trailblazer. “You two sneaky little bastards.”

Paul smiled widely. “We learned from you.”

“And you covered your tracks well. Why not have a completely separate population?”

“Maturias? We’re not allowed to have them anymore.”

“If this is a rogue operation…”

“Not going to pin anyone down to a mobile fleet unless they want to be there. I thought I’d covered our tracks well enough to make that work.”

“Other than your fingerprint, there is nothing that I’ve seen to give it away, so I think you’re on solid ground. Has Kara really been gone that much?”

“She keeps popping around on odd assignments, but most of her time is spent with her Clan.”

“I guess she spent a lot of time beyond borders anyway. I didn’t spot that change either.”

“So I really run with low personnel?”

“Due to your pushing your resources harder than others, but you always stay just an edge on the safe line. The others may push the Archons and military, but you run your industrial base closer than anyone else does. You know how to get a lot out of your personnel, so when you slack off a bit it shows, to me anyway.”

“So that’s a compliment then?”

“Like you didn’t already know. Your starship production facilities pump out more ships than any other Clan, and I have no doubt that your twindome with Jason is why Sangheili is a close second.”

“Well, I guess I feel better then. Jason not being found out was due to his sluggishness. Yeah, I can live with that, so long as the V’kit’no’sat don’t notice the same thing.”

“I’m certain they wouldn’t,” Davis assured him. “Speaking of which, I just got an update on our new neighbors. Apparently they came from Sagittarius before the Rit’ko’sor rebellion.”

“Any reason why they moved?”

“Civil war of some sort. I was just reading through it when you came in. Sara wants to set up a colony on their planet to facilitate trade, and I’m sending the Aronsic.”

“The Hobbits? Are we upgrading them?”

“More like allowing them to upgrade themselves. I’m not planning on any push.”

“Anyone else getting a promotion?”

“The Rammus have caught my eye. They’ve come a long ways in such a short time. I wish they could reproduce faster, because they’re just too few of them right now to do what I want to do with them.”

“Which is?”

“An empire-wide support faction.”

“Support as in…”

“League of legends support.”

Paul was taken aback. “Where did you learn about League?”

“Greg turned me onto it. Not quite as good as the games we’ve got nowadays, but it does have an obvious motif structure that makes role play obvious.”

“Have you played it then?”

“A bit on the retro games platform.”

“Who do you main?”

“Main?”

“Guess you haven’t played that much then.”

“A term I should know?”

“What champ do you use the most.”

“Oh, well that’s Nedrador then. How about you back in the day? I doubt you get much of a chance to play it now.”

“Caitlyn…and no, I haven’t played in a long time.”

“Do you play any in the field?”

“I’ll hit up a little Mario Kart or Hedrasool if I need to force my brain to detox, but no, I’m either fighting, training, or sleeping. ViLords can’t afford to play video games much.”

Davis smiled. “I suppose they can’t. How soon do you leave?”

“Two days, maybe three. Depends when Aaron’s fleet is ready. Wanna go along on this one?”

“I can’t afford several years away, but part of me wants to be there. These bastards have been plaguing us and this region for so long I’m surprised we’re finally at this point, yet it seems like it’s taken far too long. Do you think there will be any special surprises waiting for you?”

“I don’t think they’ve got any tricks left in the bag, but we’ll keep an eye out just the same. We’re taking enough ships that we’ll have a significant advantage this time, and every Clan is sending at least one warship.”

“Make sure you send pics. I intend to gloat to every race out there when we take the lizard capitol.”

“Don’t worry, I promise to get you plenty of gloating material.”

Resurrection

1

June 14, 3202

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Middle Zone

Paul was standing in the Excalibur’s command nexus as the ship was finishing its hard deceleration into the enemy system when he heard a series of distant rumbles and had a vibration through the deck rock him on his feet. Immediately he saw alerts pop up on the ship’s status display, detailing the fallen shields and the huge hole in the ship’s forward starboard side that ran like a knife blade halfway to the interior.

Already linked into the system he calculated what had happened and sent an immediate ping backwards to the other ships in the convoy alerting them to the fact that the jumpline was mined. He’d brought his ships in off the line a ways and was right now having to correct for that misalignment with some serious navigational tugs on the system’s planets…though that was made even more difficult due to the fact that the ship had just lost two gravity drives in the damaged area.

But the Excalibur slid to a halt in the middle zone of the star system, farther in than he’d wanted but still clear of the lizard fleets choking the inner zone to death. The ship’s sensors could pick up the enemy’s own sensor bounce and the light having come off them minutes ago, though they hadn’t seen his ship arrive yet. Paul did see, in addition to multiple smaller holes on his command ship that hadn’t penetrated more than a few hundred meters, that a warship came out of its deceleration further behind the Excalibur and was reporting no damage.

Another came, then another before his ship’s sensors bounced back from the numerous contacts further out along their incoming trajectory. There were millions of chunks of rock placed in a cylinder along the jumpline far away from the star. The Excalibur, having come in offline, had clipped the nearest edge of that field…

Paul immediately sent information back to the approaching ships of the field size and placement so they could navigate around it no matter how that would screw up their approaches. They might end up on the other side of the system before they bled off momentum, but that was preferable to ramming another of the rocks.

A contact zipped by the Excalibur and Paul’s gut wrenched as the sensors recognized the debris of a Warship-class jumpship broken into four segments and falling out of control in towards the star. There were people on that ship, not just drones, and anyone who might have still been alive was either going to ram into the star or run into the lizard ship swarm first and get blown away.

Paul sent out dozens of orders simultaneously, one of which was to the command ship’s remaining gravity drives, having them enhance the star’s pull as much as possible and jump the Excalibur in towards it at reckless speed. It had to accelerate from a dead stop, but it gradually ate up the speed difference with what had been the Manticore then reeled it back in as the lizard fleet ahead was getting closer in a hurry.

As fast as it was going, the now dead jumpship had already bled off most of its interstellar speed, which had been further reduced by the slow jump necessary to allow the fleet to come out in the middle zone rather than the inner and avoid the lizard defense fleet waiting there to ambush anyone coming in on the expected jumplines.

But Paul still didn’t have enough time. Even as the lizard fleet saw the speeding ships coming and graciously moved out of the way so they could hit the star without interference, the Excalibur caught up to one of the four segments and his waiting crew locked onto it with every tractor beam the command ship had, having to abandon the other three, and extended a weakened IDF field out around it. Normally that was something a command ship was built to do with ease in order to disable nearby enemy ships, but a decent portion of the necessary equipment inside the Excalibur had been junked when that mine had dug in so deep.

The field was steady, but there was only so much stress it could take without collapsing. The tractor beams held the ship segment firm to the command ship, but they couldn’t do squat to move the thing at any decent speed without the IDF. It was what was taking the inertial stresses in the Manticore fragment’s place, and if it collapsed the tractor beams would rip out the pieces of the hull they were gripping and it would break free.

Paul and the ship’s computer were calculating the stresses as best they could and knew it was going to be close. The blue/white star ahead of them was shifting to the right even as it was growing to fill the forward viewscreens. Stellar radiation began baking the exposed hull, but a few seconds later the shields snapped back over most of the Excalibur, thought the Manticore fragment had no such protection.

Pulling to the side as much as it could, the command ship brought the chunk of jumpship down to kiss the star’s atmosphere, burning through several sections of hull before they began gaining stellar altitude, but were continuing to get baked from the radiation that close in. With their momentum persevered they passed by the star quickly and the radiation threat diminished as the Excalibur shot between lizard formations on the other side that were fortunately not in the way.

“Admiral, get rescue crews over there immediately. You have the ship.”

“Understood,” Admiral Franken said grimly as Paul’s mind directed itself to the rest of the star system. Lag times in signals were increased the further they got away from the convoy, but he was already picking up battlemap signals indicating that two other jumpships had been hit by mines upon entry. Cursing silently he watched the updates belatedly flow into him, noting that no more in his convoy were taking hits thanks to a much wider approach vector. They were coming in somewhere other than planned and much closer to the star than he’d wanted, but there were no lizards waiting for them there.

But there were other damage alerts starting to make their way to him coming in from other Star Force convoys that were coming into the star system simultaneously on other jumplines. They’d timed their departures so that all 12 convoys would be arriving along different jumplines at the same time, making it hard for the lizards to spot them incoming and rush to meet them before they could get enough ships into play. Simultaneous arrivals also meant they could get the ships here 12 times faster, even if they weren’t all in the same location.

Paul was reading damaged or destroyed jumpships in Aaron’s convoy, more in Brian’s, and he expected to get more in as the battlemap signals from the more distant ones traveled across the system far faster than the speed of light, but well too slow for anything resembling instantaneous communication.

Paul was furious at the loss of people occurring, for every one of those ships were manned. The last scout they’d sent into the system had reported no mine fields of any kind, and it’d only been 37 days since it had last been here.

How the hell did the lizards get mine fields of this size and density set up on multiple jumplines and this far out from the star since then?

The answer didn’t hit him for some time, namely because it was so big and his focus was on the arriving convoys. All of them eventually stopped reporting dead ships soon after the first ones arrived, for they were all adjusting their incoming trajectories around the fields once alerted. If they hadn’t, or had been coming in straight on the jumplines, just about every ship in their convoys would have been destroyed up until the time when the impacts cleared a hole through the field for more ships to pass through.

The lizards had walled themselves in good, expecting attack. That meant the scout ship had not been here undetected. Paul hadn’t counted on it going unnoticed, but how had they gotten that many mines in place in such a short span of time?

His mindboggling answer came when he looked at the status of the six inhabited planets in the system…and saw that one of them was missing a shipyard ring.

Paul double checked himself, making sure he was thinking straight, but there was no mistaking the fact that the scout had reported 6 rings, one around each planet, 37 days ago…

And now there were only 5.

Paul pulled up a closer look at those mines from the previous sensor readings, as well as what was being transmitted from the other ships, and saw that they weren’t identically shaped. Rather they were chunks of rubble ranging from the size of a tank up to the size of a cruiser.

The lizards had somehow disassembled an entire shipyard ring and moved the pieces out to all 12…no, make that 23 different jumplines, and mined them all the way out in the middle zone where a wider pattern was needed to catch ships. Normally you’d put a field in close where maneuvering options were less, but they’d probably expected Star Force to come in using slower jumps so to avoid the defending fleet near the star. They couldn’t know where exactly they’d emerge to be waiting for them, so they’d mined all the approaches and sacrificed a shipyard ring to get enough material for it.

But how had they torn apart one and moved it all in such little time?

Paul looked at the lizard fleet guarding the star and the updated ship icons around the planets as they came in, knowing he had his answer.

They’d brought in their cruiser fleet and had it shoot the ring, breaking off pieces that were then latched onto and pulled out to the wanted locations. The scout had reported there were over 12 million cruisers in this system, and apparently they’d put them to good use since the scout ship had left.

As the Admiral saw to getting dropships over to the piece of the Manticore to see if anyone was still alive, Paul stepped out of the nexus for a moment, disconnecting from the system and balling his fists. He knew it could have been far worse, but he’d gone through entire planetary invasions without losing a single person before, and already they’d lost several thousand minimum to these mines. People who had spent centuries training and improving themselves. All of it wasted by running into some dumb chunks of rubble.

The lizards didn’t care about dying, or killing others, no matter what the numbers…and that was one reason why they had to be taken out. Whether by dying or being captured, these bastards could not be allowed to leave this system.

And Paul knew they didn’t care about that either. Every lizard here knew they were going to fight to the death and there would be no escape. It was their homeworld and they didn’t care. They hadn’t bothered trying to evacuate, merely writing off everyone here to their deaths, so why would they care about trying to kill Paul’s fleet? The more Star Force personnel who died here the better, and if they had managed to kill most or all of the fleet with the mines then they probably would have considered the loss of their homeworld suitable compensation.

Ripples of invisible energy formed around Paul as he let his fury flow out of his mind and into his body. The Jumat energy pooled around him, then in a split second of rage he threw it all at the wall to his left, denting a two meter wide crater into it with a crunch.

Paul forced a slow breath, transitioning his internal fire into ice. He had a moment to spare while the Admiral worked, but he needed to get his mind into as efficient a mode as possible before he went back at it, which was why he’d allowed himself to bleed off that Jumat blast. There was no way to bring back those who were lost, and they were going to have to kill every lizard in this system anyway, so there wasn’t even a chance for vengeance. The lizards had won the opening round, and there was no undoing that.

A crewmember ran into view in the short hallway behind Paul, with the trailblazer waving him off. “It’s ok. I just punched the wall in frustration.”

The crewer looked at the dent and nodded. “We all feel the same way. Make these bastards pay for it.”

“Unless they surrender, none of them are leaving this system alive,” Paul said firmly.

“You’re still going to offer…after this?”

“Yes,” Paul said simply, getting himself back into ‘Admiral’ mode. “They won’t accept it, but if we don’t offer then they will have scored another victory in being able to manipulate us. And if even one of them surrenders, that’ll be a victory for us.”

“I guess more dead lizards mean nothing to their leaders.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Sorry for the suggestion.”

Paul shook his head. “Wanting to get back at the lizards is the correct emotional response. How you apply it is the tricky part. The most obvious method is not always the right one.”

“Point taken,” the crewman said, excusing herself with a nod and disappearing back around the intact wall that separated the command nexus from the rest of the bridge.

Paul stood there for a moment, thinking. Sometimes you did just need to hit something, immediately. Unfortunately this war was about the lizards expanding, which meant they were actually winning. Lose 1 world, gain 10 more, even if that one was their homeworld. Taking this system was going to hurt the lizards for sure, but they weren’t defeating them in coming here. The lizards would survive as a race, even if these would die, and they would spread and build elsewhere. Already the Voku had identified three systems in the coreward half of lizard territory that had partially operational shipyard rings. They’d destroyed one of them, but it was clear the lizards were just building new, albeit small at this point, core worlds in their new territories even as Star Force was taking their originals down.

The lizard expansion systems were weak, Paul knew, but damn the V’kit’no’sat for keeping Star Force from going after them when they were done here. Risking detection wasn’t worth it, otherwise Paul and the others could hunt down and kill all of these bastards given enough time. With that no longer an option with their coreward expansion, the victories Star Force was going after were selective. Taking out the original lizard empire, for one, was no small thing. And with the eventual fall of this system and the rest of the core worlds they’d be sending a big message to this part of the galaxy that the lizards were not unbeatable. They might be numerous, but not superior.

Star Force was the new power in the region, and even The Nexus was going to take notice when the lizard capitol fell, for they knew this enemy was not as small as they pretended it to be. Davis had learned that much from his contacts, and they were relieved they were no longer encroaching into Nexus space in force. One less threat for them to deal with on their very long list.

But there was no getting around the people lost here. Had Paul or the others even suspected the lizards could set up this type of minefield so fast they would have prepared for it, but they’d never used this tactic before and the idea of them cannibalizing a shipyard ring to do it had never crossed Paul’s mind. He’d always known the lizards were adaptable and innovative, and a part of him was kicking himself for not seeing this possibility. Next time they’d make sure a scout was sent in just prior to the invasion so they wouldn’t have this much time to work with, but their rate of mine laying scared Paul, for he knew there would still be several days gap between when a scout ship left the target and when the attacking convoy would arrive, especially if that convoy was going slow enough to come out in middle stellar orbit or higher.

He’d have to send multiple scouts and leave some behind to watch for mine laying so they could transmit a warning to the incoming convoy, allowing them to divert like they were now.

Damn it, why hadn’t they thought of that before?

Because tearing apart an entire ring around a planet in a little over a month is nuts, Paul admitted. It had probably taken them centuries to build that one ring, maybe more if it was one of the earlier ones in their empire. But if you were going to lose it anyway, why not take it apart yourself and put it to use.

This mission was already a failure, but Paul and the others still had a job to do.

He stepped back into the nexus and linked into the system, getting a couple of messages from his fellow trailblazers that were variations on curses and facepalms. None of them were happy, but an initial report from the first boarding party on the Manticore was picking up localized emergency beacons. Low power and long lasting, the beacons were used to highlight regions within the ship to rescue crews to allow them to find survivors in lifeboat-like enclosures or other makeshift sanctuaries.

That didn’t mean anyone was still alive after the radiation cooking they’d got in near the star, but if they were only half dead Paul had a V’kit’no’sat regenerator onboard that would bring them back. Hopefully they’d be able to pull at least one person back from this ambush.

In the meantime crews were heading out to do emergency repairs on the Excalibur while they were away from combat. The damage was such that they’d need a shipyard to fix it all, but some band aids could be applied here and there to the massive construct…and that mass was the reason why Paul wasn’t taking a dip in the star himself. That, combined with the higher shield strength, had blocked or dampened enough of the mine hits to allow the Excalibur to survive.

And judging from the damage reports, she wasn’t just alive but still combat capable. Not 100% by a long shot, but she wasn’t going to be a spectator in this fight.

As the Star Force convoys were continuing to emerge from their jumps around the system Paul saw the lizard fleets in low stellar orbit begin to detach and race out towards the jumppoints to engage them before they could get all their ships here. The fighting was about to go down in a very heavy way, but Star Force had enough ships in play to keep their footholds while the rest arrived, and at the moment it seemed the lizards were ignoring the Excalibur entirely.

As soon as the Manticore debris was searched his ship was heading back in. Until then his convoy commanders would be in charge of the fighting, for he was too far away to suffer the signal lag, making him for the moment a mere spectator while his peers were the ones calling the shots as the first lizard ships came into contact and the battle for this system began.

2

June 16, 3202

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Middle Zone

Paul hadn’t slept in 2 days, having taken only the mildest of breaks that amounted to a grand total of 23 minutes absent from the nexus onboard the Excalibur. After recovering 6 survivors from the Manticore his command ship had jumped its way back across the star system to rejoin the fight underway at the entry jumppoint. All 834 jumpships in his convoy had already arrived and deployed drones by that time and the lizards hadn’t backed off, preferring to meet the invaders and fight to the death and kill as many of them as they could rather than playing a waiting game that they knew they would badly lose.

There were so many ships in play across all 12 jumppoints that even after 2 straight days of fighting there were still some active lizard ships out there amongst the debris. Paul’s mind was locked on them, sending orders to a few drone pilots as to what routes to take through the debris to head them off as the Excalibur sat broken but not defeated amongst a mass of Warship-class jumpships while they all remotely controlled their smaller, unmanned kin. Some others were out near the combat, but with so much debris in the area it was easier for the drones to skirt around it solo, leaving the giant manned ships back to lick their wounds while their crews hunted down the remaining lizard ships.

This battle was already won, but Paul wasn’t going to allow an extra drone to get destroyed out of sloppiness, and that’s exactly what the lizards were attempting to do before they died. They were maneuvering around the debris rather than making a suicidal charge, getting Star Force to chase them in the hopes of setting an ambush for one or more of the drones.

But so long as he and other Archons were watching over and guiding the battle they didn’t have a chance. It took another 5 hours to clean up what was left of the lizards near Paul’s jumppoint, then he finally was able to let his mind wind down as he checked the status of the other fleets around the system.

Four were already clear, with the other seven being in their final stages of cleaning up as well. There had been over 12 million lizard cruisers here and some 730,000 Star Force drones carried by 9,421 jumpships, plus 73 command ships. Paul was grateful that this had not been one massive battle, for his alone had been far too large and his mind was starting to object fiercely now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

The crew had been rotating in and out, so they were all fairly fresh, but he was not. Even with his Inas he was barely holding his mind together after such a long, continuous intense effort.

Paul walked out of the nexus and down the short hall, turning the corner and coming onto the bridge where he caught Franken’s attention.

“Admiral, I’ve got to crash. Hold the fleet here until the others get done fighting, but get us clear of the debris field…no, check that. Start clearing the jump lane. Nudge it to the side so we can recover it later. Unless we come under attack again, don’t wake me. I’ll get back to you when I’m sane again.”

“Understood. Do you want a courier sent back warning of the minefield?”

Paul hesitated, kicking himself for not thinking of that. “Find out if anyone has done that already and send one if they haven’t. I am so brain fried right now.”

“Most of the Archons didn’t rest,” the Admiral told him, having already checked their status. “The fleet can hold itself together while you guys crash. I promise we won’t break anything until you wake up.”

Paul nodded. “Good work today…or, days. Make sure the crew knows it. That was a nasty fight after a nasty ambush and no one tanked.”

“Did you expect them to?” the Admiral asked, a mix of curiosity and wounded pride.

“I don’t know what I expected. We haven’t lost that many people in a very long time,” Paul said, rubbing his eyes. “Damn I’m fried. Anything else I’m forgetting?”

“We just destroyed the largest fleet in lizard history.”

“That we know of…and it’s still not over yet. If the others ask for help be ready to send it, but I don’t think they will. And get some ships in low orbit so no lizards can sneak out.”

“And we can poach any incoming traffic?”

“Yeah,” Paul said, unable to stifle a yawn. “I’m out of here.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Franken insisted as Paul walked off the bridge. He got halfway to his quarters when he saw Riona step out in front of him, surprised that he hadn’t noticed her mental presence before that.

“You alright?” she asked, not looking all that well herself having come from a secondary nexus onboard the ship.

“Fried. You?”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What then?”

“The mines.”

Paul’s face slacked a bit, but he didn’t have much wherewithal left in him to lose. He was starting to get dizzy now that he wasn’t forcing himself to hold together during the battle. “I’m not ok with it, but it feels like it happened a long time ago. How are you doing?”

“Ticked and tired. Wanna crash?”

“That’s where I’m headed.”

“My quarters are closer.”

“By about 200 meters.”

“Do you really feel like walking that extra 200?”

“No,” Paul admitted. “Thanks,” he said as they began walking again.

Neither one said another word, nor did they have any telepathic conversations. There wasn’t much to be said and neither one was in good enough shape for a coherent discussion. They both needed to rest hard and get themselves back into play so they could oversee the next stage of the invasion. There wasn’t a rush per se, but with the lizards you never wanted to give them extra time to get clever with…and the mine field was ample evidence of what they could do in a very short span of time.

When they got to Riona’s quarters Paul followed her in and shut the door, then both of them crashed on her bed and fell asleep as soon as they let their last bit of resistance go, knowing they had time to recover and allowing themselves to indulge in that blissful rest.

Paul was back on the bridge and in the nexus 9 hours later, still a bit groggy and needing to get in a shakeout run, but wanting to get himself up to speed on the situation first. According to the battlemap feeds that were flowing across the system constantly like a giant net connecting every single Star Force ship, the naval combat was now over save for some intercepts happening near the star. A good number of the lizard cargo jumpships had tried to make it out and run the blockade, with some 18 ships out of over 2,000 having made it on some very long jumplines that were questionable as to whether or not they could accurately hit the destination star. The rest were now additional junk that drones were going around to and destroying further rather than allowing any surviving lizards to slowly suffocate or freeze to death.

As per standard orders, surrender offers were going out on a regular basis…and as per standard lizard protocol they were all being subsequently ignored. Star Force would keep sending them though, right up until the last of them were dead or they broke their trend and actually accepted.

Looking around the rest of the system he saw the remaining lizard civilian ships clustering near the battlestations or shipyard rings. The latter they were going to board and take as previously done, though there was now one less to claim. That would save them some time, but first they’d need to take out the battlestations and any other defensive emplacements the lizards had in orbit around the various planets.

There were also a large number of warehouses here, more so than even in the other core worlds that they’d taken to date. What each contained varied greatly. Some had spare parts, foodstuffs, old ships, explosives, raw materials…they were never the same, and a few previously had been booby-trapped. They’d all need to be inspected and safed before being ticked off the threat list, and unless there was a reason to destroy them Paul wasn’t going to. Everything in this system would eventually be recycled and used to fuel Star Force, so breaking things up with weaponsfire was counterproductive when you’d just have to hunt down those many drifting pieces later.

There was a complication, however. Of the six inhabited planets, and there were others with outposts on them, there was a large tract of land on one that was not covered with cityscape. The scout ship had noted this and Paul was getting updates on that location now that they had ships in closer, with him seeing that the land was housing billions of varying races that the lizards used for food.

Star Force would not be targeting them from orbit, and the last time they’d taken a lizard farm thankfully their intentions hadn’t been noticed. Paul hoped this would also be the case, for as long as the lizards didn’t realize they intended on rescuing the lizard livestock then they wouldn’t try to use them to their advantage. The only reason that hadn’t occurred to date was the fact that the previous farms taken had occurred in a single swoop that didn’t allow for any communications out of the system.

That was prudent so the lizards couldn’t learn as much from Star Force’s tactics. When a system went dark, as far as the rest of the lizard empire was concerned, Star Force didn’t want them knowing what had happened to it short of risking to send in a scout ship of their own. If the lizards here didn’t realize that their cattle were on the Star Force priority list, then hopefully they’d still be alive after the lizards were all dead…though Paul could see them killing them just to spite the invaders, and he hoped that didn’t come to pass here.

All the other core worlds they’d taken thus far didn’t have farms in them, for it seemed they were too costly to maintain as a food supply for such enormous populations. Shipments of meat were then brought in to them in some form of priority system. How that worked was still uncertain despite Star Force having accessed a lot of lizard databases in the core worlds they took. Who got the meat and who didn’t wasn’t noted, so maybe it was based on an informal system that was so basic, or perhaps mentally ingrained into them, that they didn’t need to bother recording it in their computer logs.

There were plenty of farm worlds, large ones even, spread throughout lizard territory that Star Force had taken previously, but none of them were located within the surrounding cityscape. The fact that there was one here was noteworthy, for it seemed the capitol wanted its own local supply of meat rather than having to ship it in in lesser numbers.

Yet one more reason these bastards had to be stopped.

Right now though that farm region was sitting underneath its own powerful energy shields. Not to protect the foodstock, but to deny an enemy an easy landing zone. In fact there was no place on any of the six planets that wasn’t covered with either a plate-like shield or a domed variety. Not one square inch of vulnerability, and the shields here were registering significantly increased power levels. That had been anticipated, due to the fact that it was their capitol, but what Paul was seeing now showed shield density matrixes 3x what they should have been.

The lizards had gotten another tech upgrade.

Paul chewed on his lower lip as he thought. The shield strength wasn’t going to save them, but it would mean Star Force would lose more drones to the anti-orbital batteries while knocking out that first hole through which to land ground troops…and he was sure that all of these guns were cleansing beams. Based off the distribution pattern on the surface, the density of the batteries had increased as well, not to mention the placement of several sites that exceeded previously encountered weaponry. Either these were bigger versions of the same weapons or the lizards had kept something in reserve for their capitol.

He wondered about that. Why hold something back when you could do more damage by spreading the tech around everywhere? Then again, Earth had some beefy defenses of its own not seen elsewhere, or at least not yet, due to the cost of producing them. Epsilon Eridani was building one of the massive Bra’hem beam turrets right now, but they required so much solari that they weren’t cost effective within Star Force yet.

Earth currently had 7 of them and was working on an eighth, and every Archon knew why it had to have the big guns before any other planet did.

But if that’s the same idea that the lizards had taken to here, they’d been at it for a very, very long time. And given their more recent cleansing beam additions, whatever these big guns were couldn’t have been that advanced…or had they seen the writing on the wall and just went all out in building the biggest and hardest system to take in order to kill as many Star Force ships and troops as they could as a massive middle finger while they trotted off to their coreward territory?

“Yeah, I’m getting the feeling that’s exactly what they did,” he whispered to himself as he looked through more updates across all six major planets. The minor ones were airless and had a plethora of mining sites, most of which seemed abandoned, and from the mass readings he knew they were now hollow. What was inside he didn’t know, but they’d find out before hitting the inhabited worlds.

Paul had access to a file sharing system that no one else did aside from the trailblazers, and inside it he had already seen that some of the others had claimed targets for their own. Given that they were still spread out across the system and couldn’t talk to each other in real time, this was the best way to communicate and they knew each other so well they could do so shorthand to save a lot of time.

Right now the targets tagged were orbital ones, with the battlestations being divvied up but not all claimed yet. Paul ignored them and decided to tackle two of the minor planets that were orbiting each other. The binary pair wasn’t equally balanced, though the larger one was reading less mass than the smaller, with it swinging in a more robust orbit as the two danced around one another.

Paul also included the handful of orbital installations and battlestations there, completely claiming those two locations for his fleet to handle while the other 11 fleets went about taking down varying pieces of the lizard defenses and infrastructure. That was one of the advantages of having other trailblazers here. He could totally depend on them to get things done and Paul didn’t feel that he had to watch over their shoulders in the slightest. Had he assigned Riona to such a task he could have trusted her to get it done without him worrying, but with the other trailblazers he knew they might well come up with ideas that he wouldn’t, making them more than just replacements for him in those other engagements, and perhaps even his superior in some circumstances.

He’d make sure to review what they did later so he could steal any good ideas, but right now he was going to focus on this pair of minor planets and find out what was hollowed out inside both, for even the more massive one was reading less of a gravitational field than it should have. Even if he wasn’t curious, everything in this system that was lizard had to be checked out and cleansed of inhabitation.

It was going to take some time to clear the mine fields and neither Paul nor the others wanted to start bringing in their ground troops until that was done. While there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else arriving here he was worried that Cal-com might show up anyway. He’d originally planned to help Paul with decapitating the lizard empire, but a priority target had been discovered just on the other side of the coreward boundary line where Star Force wouldn’t go and Cal-com had wanted to knock it out before it could help strengthen the surrounding systems.

Paul had agreed, knowing that even if they allowed a tiny piece of a shipyard ring to get established it would flood cruisers to the surrounding systems and begin to snowball once it got a big enough supply fleet established to keep the raw materials flowing. Symbolism of taking the capitol aside, the more of these big targets in the region where Star Force wouldn’t go that the Voku could take out would see a significant impact going forward. Maybe not for Star Force, but for others fighting against them…or those just trying to survive a little longer before they were annihilated.

Paul hated to say it, but maybe if this dragged on longer the Skarron empire might get their head out of their ass and send the type of reinforcements to fight the lizards that he guessed they were capable of. They might have been in a situation like The Nexus, with so many threats they couldn’t focus on just one, but Paul had to believe that an empire so large that it dwarfed what the lizards had built could squash this invasion if they put their full force behind it and for some reason they hadn’t been willing to do that yet.

Regardless of their situation, the lizard capitol was going down and Paul knew Star Force had assembled more than enough drones to make it happen, so he’d told Cal-com to go hunting elsewhere with the ships he’d been gathering for this invasion. The Voku were currently invading other lizard worlds, almost as many as Star Force was, with more and more troops flowing out from their home territory to assist in the massive lizard cleansing effort and the patrolling and holding of the territory thus liberated from them.

But it would be just like Cal-com to send some ships to help mop up the lizards after the big push and he didn’t want any of them running into these mine fields. To him, getting these moved was the first priority, and several of the other trailblazers had already begun dealing with theirs in a hope to clean out the ‘highways’ before anyone could accidentally stumble upon them or the cleaning crews…which was why all the ships were keeping a keen eye on incoming stellar reflectivity. If there was a ship incoming they might be able to warn them off just in time, and if not they still needed to get out of the way themselves…and with a sky full of debris they couldn’t just zip out of there in a straight line in any direction they wanted.

Mine field first, pair of planets second, Paul settled on. Lizard homeworld we’ll save for last.

3

June 29, 3202

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Hemratik

With his fleet split up dealing with multiple targets in the minor planets, Paul stood in the bridge nexus as the command ship scanned the planet they’d just rid of orbital defenses. Now that they were able to get in this close they had a better picture of what was below the surface…and it was showing enormous caverns within the lighter of the two planets that were reading gaseous atmosphere and water in different sections.

That was about all their sensors could tell them, for the outer crust of the planet was still solid rock. He saw the water and could think of only a few possibilities, then found Riona’s presence within the battlemap network and sent her a direct question through the mind-linked computer systems.

Thoughts?

They probably hollowed out the planet mining then repurposed it for habitation. The water could be storage reserves or maybe living space for a pocket of their aquatic variants.

They can breathe air too, Paul pointed out. This may be some sort of training facility.

Lizard challenges?

Maybe. They have to figure out what the hell they’re doing somewhere to develop the genetic memories, and I doubt they have that many veteran survivors to pull information from. Everything they’ve built seems to be localized, so if they do have a training zone, or maybe a full-fledged experimental planet, it would make sense.

You mean having lizards fight each other to study new tactics?

Paul cringed. No, and I really hope you’re wrong about that. I was thinking more along the lines of prototype testing. Their aquatics variants are latter editions, so where did they develop and refine their biological abilities?

There are plenty of lizard planets with oceans on them. You want to go down and have a look?

Any reason I shouldn’t?

They might blow up the planet.

We’ll be careful. Wanna come with?

Normally I’d say yes, but you’ll feel better if I’m up here running things so you can go explore. If the lizards have secrets they want hidden from us, better to go find them before they have a chance to destroy them.

Point taken, Paul agreed. Bring as many ships down as needed for an intense scan. Find me someplace to knock.

Will do. How many are you taking?

I think 20 ought to do it.

For an entire planet?

For a scouting mission. I’ll call in reserves if needed, but I don’t think there’s any reason to wait for the troop ships to get here.

Have fun storming the castle.

Paul laughed, but that didn’t transmit through the system.

As you wish, he answered in kind before releasing his hold on the control sphere and backing out of the nexus. With a few words to the bridge crew, he left the ship in their hands and his fleet in Riona’s as they continued their more or less mundane orbital sweeping activities and headed off into the ship to armor up and grab a team of Archons from the ship’s crew and the limited ground troops contained within the central plug of the ship, though the TF wouldn’t be needed today.

When Paul got into a dropship with 19 other Archons and set off from the command ship, Riona already had him a target and a handful of drones ready to escort them down. Unlike on other worlds, this one wasn’t defended at all. The now destroyed battlestations had been all the obvious weaponry either the worlds of Hemratik and Hegrasil had to their name, hence the exhaustive look for concealed emplacements or machinery that could be co-opted into explosive use.

There were other drones literally hovering hundreds of meters off the airless surface of this world, pulling detailed scans down inside the planet looking for things that went boom or just trying to give him a localized schematic of the facilities they contained. On the surface there were structures, but only at a handful of sites, one of which was still getting an up close look by several drone corvettes and one big cruiser.

Paul’s dropship slid down between them to a docking facility that had checked out, but the Archons didn’t try to blast in the hangar doors or hack their way into the system. Rather they set down on the rocky ground nearby and the 20 of them left the dropship at a run across the airless surface. Paul led the way while half the others carried cargo with them.

As soon as they left, the dropship took off leaving the Archons running in their assorted colors of armor across a couple hundred meters of surface and up to the wall of one of the buildings that had no surface entrance. There they set up their equipment, cutting through the flimsy yet thick building material and installing a temporary airlock of their own make, through which they all entered the lizard building and got their armor out of airless mode and back to breathing the local interior atmosphere.

There were no lizards nearby. No troops waiting for them to fight through. In fact there were no minds within detection range, which seemed odd given that this facility was only some 19 miles wide on the surface and Paul could sense a decent fraction of that distance.  Undeterred by the emptiness, the Archons quickly made their way through what felt like a ghost town and over to the hangar facility that they had bypassed and commandeered it. They placed a local hack into the system via a small transmitter device that they were able to then link to the ships above, allowing Star Force to send in dropships at any time without having to blast their way through the bay doors.

Paul opened them experimentally, seeing that they functioned and the energy fields holding in the atmosphere were working properly, then he closed them again just in case there was a power failure…the kind that could happen when Archons got to shooting things and the lizards went about blowing themselves up in the process.

After less than a minute Riona’s voice entered his helmet.

“Paul, we got a schematic from their computer. There’s a single shaft running from your location to the planet’s interior,” she said as an updated map file was sent to his HUD.

“Any idea why there’s no one around?”

“Mothball protocols are showing. Whatever they used this place for in the past, it’s no longer relevant. And there’s no computer link to the planet core.”

“Old mining base?”

“Something like that.”

“Alright. If we lose comms expect a check-in within 48 hours. If you don’t hear from us send in a retrieval team. If these guys can shut down the lifts we’ll need you to get them back working again.”

“48, check.”

“Orbit still quiet?”

“As a tomb. Our other operations are progressing normally and I’m not picking up any alerts from the other fleets. You’re good to go exploring.”

“Later,” he said, cutting the comm and leading the Archon team across the empty complex to the lift shafts that ran down deep inside the planet. They were all located at the same place, but there were hundreds of individual lifts clustered together like a fiber optic bundle, save for each little line was the width of a several dropships. There were no smaller ones to be found, so his team walked out onto one of the football field-sized chambers obviously meant for bulk cargo transfers and began to ride it down using the small cupola attached to the side that had operating controls.

The entire chamber was self-contained, so when they began moving an energy field snapped over the open side of the big box as the lift tunnel wall replaced the view of the facility interior and quickly began flashing by as the lift gained speed. It took them more than an hour to make it to the bottom of the route, with the giant car slowing gradually and the first lizard minds popping up on the periphery of Paul’s senses.

“Contacts,” he advised, knowing the others wouldn’t pick them up so soon. “Let’s keep this quiet until we see what’s going on.”

And by quiet they all knew meant mentally disabling the lizards from range. Two mages stood ready to assist him with that and battlemelds as needed, but there were only a few lizards nearby when the lift finally settled in place and he was able to put them to sleep himself without incident.

The group walked out of the now shieldless entrance and onto a small loading dock that didn’t match the massive nature of the lift cars. There was ample room to offload cargo, but it appeared to Paul that the structures he was seeing now were add-ons after the mining endeavors had run their course, for there was no way these small docks could have handled the massive amounts of raw ore that would have been funneling up to the surface.

In fact these were mainly storage areas with much smaller access points into the rest of the facility, able to be offloaded with supplies that would then be moved to the interior by hand or small mechanisms. If all of the lift shafts were so equipped it suggested that there was still cargo transfer occurring, but not of the nature that the lift shafts had been designed for.

But then why the ghost town above? Maybe the cargo transfers were sporadically spaced and didn’t require an onsite maintenance staff.

Whatever was down here looked to be fairly low key. Maybe it was the star system’s version of a closet. If that was the case then they could make use of it. Most lizard infrastructure was recycled when Star Force took a planet, but given that this was the interior of one they might be able to use it with only some minor redecorating. If and when they got the six major planets cleansed of lizards there were going to be a huge amount of recycling efforts ongoing, and assuming they still controlled the 5 rings they were going to need a place to store the raw materials being produced by them.

Paul could definitely make use of a planet-sized locker for that, knowing that in other core systems they’d taken that they’d had to scale back the planetary recycling efforts due to the fact that the rings would fill up with material that couldn’t be used fast enough to produce products…and then those products had to go somewhere. As big as the rings were, when the recycling teams really got up to steam they could move an insane amount of material.

Given how much there would be to process here, this planet might come in handy and give them a place to store either the raw materials or the finished products without having to ship them out of the system or back down to the surface into newly built warehouses or even out on massive plains of bedrock where they were just stacking cargo cubes up for lack of places to put them until transport convoys could arrive.

So little could be transported between star systems that they needed local options for just about everything, and having a lift system already in place with a potentially planetary core empty for their use would be a really nice prize to snag.

Paul led his team over to the first of some 30 lizards that Paul had detected from afar and knocked out with his Ikrid, then as the others waited he knelt down beside it and retracted his armored glove. He pressed his pale skin against its green scales to pull a deep scan that would easily bypass the sleep state and give him access to the lizard’s memories.

Sorting through it all was always a pain in the ass, but he was familiar enough with lizard minds to know where to begin his search…their recent memories. From there he could link to anything like following an old school internet pattern, finding one site that would link into another or another. Unfortunately there wasn’t a search engine involved, but he could process the links so fast that it almost looked like there was to outsiders.

“It’s residential,” he said aloud rather than transmitting what he was seeing to them telepathically, preferring to use his full power to root out secrets, “but not for lizards. This is a giant prison facility.”

“For who?” a striker asked. “They kill everyone they come across.”

“They co-opt a few,” a mage reminded him.

“Are these some that they double-crossed or a slave labor force?” a ranger asked.

“Experiments,” Paul added. “Not labor. They have pockets of races kept here and forced to reproduce so they don’t run out.”

“What kind of experiments?”

“Research. This one doesn’t know what, but I’d guess genetic. We know the lizards developed their aquatic variant not that long ago, and they probably did the same with the others as well. If they’re experimenting on other races long term they may be developing new ones or making tweaks to existing ones.”

“Who do they have here?” another striker asked.

“Races that I’m not familiar with, but this one thinks they were all conquests. Races that the lizards defeated,” he said, pausing as he made a connection and quickly sought out confirmation. “Trophies. In addition to the research, this is the galactic trophy case.”

“Of those they’ve defeated,” the mage commented. “How sick.”

“The water pockets,” Paul said with a silent curse. “How stupid can I be?”

“What is it?” another mage asked with concern.

“I’m trying to find a memory, but this one hasn’t worked in any of the water sections. He does know that some of the prison areas are for aquatics.”

“That makes sense if they developed an aquatic variant.”

“Do any of you know who Ariel is?”

“The Archon?” one of them asked.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, releasing the lizard and resealing his armored glove over his hand as it transformed back to match his exact dimensions. “They’ve got a decent-sized staff on planet, but no combat troops. We need to clear them all out.”

“Just us?”

Paul smiled. “We could if we took our time, but that’s not what I meant.”

“And what about this one?” a ranger asked.

The trailblazer lifted the lizard off the ground and floated him out in front of him. “I hate killing these guys when they’re asleep, but I don’t want them running off and sounding an alarm that might result in them killing the prisoners. We need to find some place to stash these guys while we find a control center and figure out if they have any booby-traps in place.”

“I’ll take this one,” a mage offered and Paul gave him the silent telekinetic handoff.

“Should we collect the others?” a striker asked.

“Can you sense them?”

“A few.”

“Alright, split up and grab all the ones I knocked out. If you sense any more at distance leave them be. If they see you knock them out. I’ll look for some place to stash them while we go exploring.”

With that the twenty Archons split up and headed in different directions, with Paul pointing out the locations of all the lizards on his battlemap just to make sure they didn’t miss any of the now unconscious minds.

4

It didn’t take Paul long to find a control room, set off the entrance facility that was designed as both control hub and barracks for the prison guards for the immediate area. After disabling the lizards in the chamber he stood over top one of the lizard control panels and accessed the system, having gotten fairly good at it over the years and seeing that their computer systems remained virtually identical to those they’d first encountered on Corneria. There were doubtlessly upgrades to the computer power and abilities, but the interface was the same.

It took him a while, but eventually he was able to access the other regions that this hub didn’t oversee, getting a schematic for the entire hollowed out moon. From there he dug into personnel files, both for the prisoners and the guards, finding that there was barely a skeleton staff of lizards here and no troops anywhere in the planet. As far as the prisoners went, there were over a million of them.

Paul wondered how they were being fed and soon discovered internal processing factories that made foodstuffs and a delivery schedule for additional raw materials. A lot of stuff was being recycled locally, but there were still steady deliveries being made to supplement what was being grown here and…yeah, they had internal livestock farms as well. Those weren’t included in the prisoner list, but apparently they were raising them here as well then chopping them up and feeding them to the prisoners.

Bastards.

What he needed to know was whether there were any doomsday mechanisms in place, either for the facility or just the prisoners. Worming his way through the lizard system took time, a lot of time, in fact, with the other Archons all cycling back to his position before he had an answer.

“Prisoners are rounded up and stuffed in a barracks compartment,” a mage reported. “All are napping.”

“If they have any precautionary measures against invasion, they’re not easily accessible,” Paul said, still working through the systems. “I’m starting to think there are none.”

“Doesn’t mean they can’t kill the prisoners by other means,” another mage pointed out.

“Get somebody back into comm range and get a message to Riona. Have her get me as many Archons and troops as she can from the fleet and send them down here. We’re going to need to purge this facility of lizards quickly.”

“It’s a planet,” a striker questioned. “How fast can we manage that?”

“With a lot of running, it’s manageable. The personnel are clustered into specific areas and only go out into the prisoner realms occasionally, so there’s a lot less territory to cover than it seems. We’ll need at least 10,000 to make this work, and we’ll hold position here quietly until we get those numbers.”

“Ship’s crew?”

Paul shook his head. “No. Ground troops on the command ships and as many Archons, Knights, and Commandos as you can strip off the others. I don’t want anyone down here without armor.”

“I’ll relay the message,” the mage said, turning about and running back through the facility in the direction of the big lift shafts.

“And by quiet you mean?” a striker asked.

“We hold position and knock out anyone who wanders into this area while I keep digging. Other than that, make yourselves comfortable. We’re going to be here a while.

‘A while’ turned into 17 hours before Paul had his 10,000 and then some troops assembled on the loading docks and beginning to file out through the facility towards individual targets that he’d given them. Some were heading to horizontal lifts that connected various sections of the facility while others were going to smaller vertical ones that accomplished the same thing. The core was a hollowed out sphere where the habitats had been constructed, all with artificial gravity, so there were thousands of cubic miles to search and neutralize lizards on.

Some of that space was made up of rock forming structural columns that kept the thick crust of the planet from collapsing in on the structures, but most of the internal space were the preserves. Park-like areas where the prisoners lived in a more or less ‘natural’ habitat like a zoo. There were even observation platforms set up for visitors to look out over the lizards’ conquests, and when too many of them died or were expended in various experiments or other activities they’d be compelled to reproduce…either naturally or forced via more medical ‘treatments.’

There wasn’t a lot logged now, but occasionally across the planet there were scheduled abductions from the preserves where the lizards would go in and capture who they wanted, then take them to facilities where they did whatever it was they wanted…including eating them. He’d found evidence that some higher ranking lizards were allowed the privilege of consuming the prisoners. Not enough to threaten their population numbers, but they were considered a delicacy.

Recently there had been no such consumptions, dating back for nearly 13 years. To Paul that told him the lizard leaders were long gone from this system, having evacuated prior to the invasion and took who knew what with them. There were still masterminds in the system, Paul knew that from how the fleets had fought, but the templars and sovereigns were obviously gone.

He’d expected as much, but it seemed they hadn’t been able to take their living trophies with them, and he hoped there was a lot more they’d been forced to leave behind…though he expected most of it to be loaded up with booby-traps to kill interested Archons.

That was why he’d spent so much time digging through the lizard computer systems. If there was a failsafe mechanism it would probably be manually triggered, meaning that the lizards in this facility would need to have a quick way to activate it. That meant it should have been easy for Paul to find, but there was nothing he could locate. There was still the chance that there were hidden automated triggers, but nothing he’d found even hinted at there being destructive mechanisms built into the preserves.

His skills were decent, but he’d also had some software techs brought down in armor to take over the job from him. They’d stay here under guard in combat mode just in case the atmosphere suddenly vented from the facility. If they secured this place he’d be able to bring down people in a shirtsleeve environment, but he wasn’t going to risk that yet. The lizards had known they were coming here for years and had plenty of time to prepare all kinds of subtle surprises for them.

So Paul left the hackers, which were commonly called ‘slicers’ when it involved alien computer systems, to their task and headed off with a small detachment of Archons to one of the internal lifts after releasing their prisoners. He woke them up himself and the Archons had telekinetically held them in place as they instructed them to go and tell the others here that they had the option of surrendering and living, but that if they didn’t they’d all be hunted down and killed shortly.

Part of those lizards tried to attack the Archons, humorously, without being able to lay a finger on them. Eventually they gave up and left with the others, running off into the facility as Paul made an announcement to everyone via the comms and internal computer systems that he had the slicers keep sending out.

He had no doubt those lizards they’d released would fight to the death, but Star Force didn’t kill prisoners and they’d at least have a choice in their own fates. That said, while Paul gave them a head start, any lizards they ran into from this point on that didn’t surrender to them were going to be killed on sight.

The trailblazer had a renewed anger at the lizards after reading through some of the things that had been happening here, so now that he had the terms of engagement set to his liking he wasn’t going to hold back.

With teams spreading throughout the planet’s interior heading to very distant locations where there were clusters of enemies present, Paul took his 12 Archon group over to the water regions. He’d called for and received his aquatics armor from the ship, as had the eleven others with him. He’d swapped it out back in the control room and was now clunkily running through the facility, but that sensation would disappear when he got in the water.

But first he had lizards to kill, and when they got to the end of the last lift transit the doors opened to reveal lizards waiting for them with weapons drawn. They opened fire immediately, but there was no chance of them getting through the Archons’ shields in the few seconds it took the superhumans to cross the floor to get to them. A handful of seconds later the lizards were dead and the Archons were moving on, noting that these had been aquatic variants, and eventually split up and hunted down all the lizards in this area, after which they regrouped in the local control room for a quick look through the database.

Some of the logs were identical to what he’d accessed remotely, but some were only stored here and dealing with the various aquatic races they held, each in a separate preserve. This control hub oversaw 6 different ones, with others being services by other locations. Paul would get to those eventually, but as he reviewed the basics of the security measures he found no booby-traps or defensive weapons aside from around the entry hatches. Beyond that there was nothing for the inhabitants to attack, with the solid walls around the chamber leading to nowhere even if they had somehow dug through them.

“Let’s go,” Paul said, leading the Archons out to one of the observation platforms that existed above water level. Most were beneath the artificial lakes and accessible via clear tunnels that would take them in amidst the denizens but safe from any potential threat by the thick, clear material of the tubes, but there were a handful above the waterline where the lizards could look down on the surface where some races would poke up for air or even on small bits of land for those that were amphibious.

The preserve Paul was heading to did not contain any of those, nor were they air breathers, but they had open air access anyway in addition to the subsurface entrances and exits.  When he got to one of the decks that existed only a few meters above the calm lake he punched the safety glass and cracked it. Several more hits reduced its structural integrity, then he summoned up a distortion around the armor on his right arm and held it out towards the glass, barely inches away, then released the Jumat blast.

The glass shattered and blew out over the lake, falling into the water as the Archons jumped through the gap and followed it down into the previously tranquil reservoir. Paul could already sense the disruption in the minds below, but he also felt something sickly about them and knew it wasn’t his imagination.

He swam through the water using his armor’s jets with the other Archons following in his wake as he headed towards the nearest group of prisoners. Many swam away, knowing they couldn’t escape but not wanting to submit to whatever was coming, but a few stayed put and Paul could sense that they knew that they weren’t lizards, or at least anything like what they had seen before.

Paul swam up near them then came to a halt some 20 meters away so not to spook them further, for he could feel their fear and how it was a common place thing for them, choking and rotting away their minds. He activated the translation program so that his armor would speak in the impossible to reproduce Elarioni underwater language and addressed those nearest to him.

“We are friends of the Elarioni and are not here to hurt you. We have come to destroy the lizards and did not know you were here. Now that we do, you will be freed.”

“You…you speak our words?” one asked, with the translation coming from Paul’s own armor though he could also hear her actual words as well as all other sounds in the watery environment.

“Yes. Your people taught them to us.”

“Who are you?”

“We are known as Star Force. My name is Paul. I’m sorry to say that you must stay here a little while longer. My troops are moving throughout this planet killing the lizards, but we did not bring any aquatics capable ships with us. We will send for some to come here and take you away, but it will take time. Right now I need to know if any of you know of any means the lizards have of killing you before we can take you away. Are there any explosives in here, poisons, or any other traps they could activate to prevent us from saving you?”

The Elarioni around him, glowing with bioluminescent on body patches and their golden eyes, didn’t speak. Their minds were having such a hard time comprehending this that they were just locking up, with many of them running through possible horrors that could result from this and others trying to shut out emotions that were surging to the surface now that it appeared that there was hope.

Paul gave them time, but eventually another swam up to them from further away as the rest of the hundreds in this one lake swam nearby but kept their distance, forming a huge circle around them, then extending it down below in a bowl shape as what Paul sensed was their leader swam up to within a few meters of him.

“We do not know much,” she apologized. “All those who were brought here from the stars have since died. All of those you see here were born here. We know our place well. There are no devices of which you speak. The lizards come in and take us when they wish. Only their entry portal is guarded with a stun weapon. Most of those who pass through it do not return. Those that do are damaged or carrying fertilized eggs. I do not believe they want us harmed unless it is done outside these walls. Are there really others out there, like us, beyond this place?”

“Yes,” Paul said, telepathically trying to calm her teetering nerves. “We are allied with some of your kin, while others are part of our empire. We would have brought them with us, but we did not know you were here.”

“What is happening outside?”

“We are taking this star system from the lizards.”

“Star system?”

Paul looked at her, suddenly realizing how little these Elarioni knew. Whatever they’d been taught had to be passed down from one to another, so they were probably very naïve…not to mention traumatized.

“There are many planets located around the nearest star. The lizards own them and we are taking them away from them, as we have been doing around all their other stars. There are many more that we have yet to conquer, but this place is their capitol and contains their homeworld. Where you are right now is inside a small planet further out from their main ones. It is a prison. Do you understand what a prison is?”

“A place to keep people.”

“The lizards defeated a part of your race in battle and took some of the survivors as prisoners, brought them here, and you were descended from them. They claim you as their property, and we are here to take you from them.”

“What will you do with us?” she said, worrying about a number of things but also eager too and afraid to go someplace beyond these walls. They were all she had ever known, but a part of her did not want to be here and those conflicting thoughts were fighting inside her right now.

“We will take you away from here and let you live with your kin. What happens to you after that will be your choice. You are not our prisoners or our property. You will be free.”

“Free?”

“Free,” Paul said pointedly. “You may not fully understand what that means, but no one will control you and you will be able to go where you want when you want.”

Another Elarioni swam up near him, but stayed a little bit behind the other one. “Are there others here?”

Paul searched her mind quickly, finding the reference that he needed.

“There are other prisons like this within the planet. Some have other races, a few have Elarioni like you. You have had no contact with them?”

“A few of us have been moved and they tell stories.”

“You are the first that I have found here, but I know where the others are. I will leave and go tell them what is happening, but it will be some time before I can get you out of here. Most of this place is air.”

Paul felt that word ripple through all of the Elarioni here. ‘Air’ to them meant toxic and death, for they were purely water breathers. “We will move you in water when we are able, but until then you must wait here while we make preparations and remove the lizards from this place. How much food do you have?”

“Very little. They give us additional pellets daily. If they are not here we will not have enough food to live…” she said, hesitating as she glanced at the others, summoning up as much courage as she had. “We have hid a bit more over the years, so we are not in immediate need, but it will not last long. How soon can you take us from this place?”

“Not soon enough. We’ll find what the lizards were feeding you and make sure you have enough to survive until we can get you some real food. We can make it on our ships, though I’m not sure how much will be needed. Do you have a way of measuring time?”

“Feeding cycles.”

“Are any of your people injured?”

He could sense she didn’t want to answer that, fearing for them, but he dosed her up heavily with trusting feelings and insulated her from the subconscious telepathy that the Elarioni used.

“Yes. Four are hurt. They are hidden.”

“Take me to them…so that I can help them,” he added when her fear spiked out of control. “I don’t want any of you to die before we can take you from this place.”

It took some more finagling but eventually Paul was taken to a place on the floor of the facility where there were decent approximations of rock and plants that would be in a natural lake. Stuffed into a crevice were several Elarioni that showed visible signs of experimental surgeries, with one in particular that was barely hanging onto life.

Paul swam down beside her and triggered his right glove to retract. His wrist sealed around it so no water got into the rest of his armor, but he needed physical contact to make his Haemra work. Talking the Elarioni down took some time and he didn’t want to force this, but eventually he got her permission and gently placed his alien hand on her thick tail that replaced for what a Human would have been legs. He held the contact, numbing up her body so she couldn’t feel the pain any longer, nor could she move, but he let her retain her ability to talk to the others.

What the lizards had been doing involved several internal organs that had been damaged and altered in ways that were crude and not part of Elarioni physiology. He guessed they were waiting to see how long the alterations lasted before this one died, then would probably study the corpse and gather data. He was committed to make sure that didn’t happen here, but he wasn’t going to be able to trigger a regrow of her organs with the mutilated ones still here, so he triggered flash growth of tiny areas, making patches and temporary alterations to try and keep her alive long enough to get her to the Excalibur. She wasn’t going to last long enough to get an aquatics ship here, so the crew was going to have to fashion a mobile tank to get her moved and up to a med bay.

One of the Archons with him turned around and swam off, heading back immediately to get that in the works while Paul stayed here healing her as much as he could then working on the others to buy them time. What the lizards had done here was inexcusable, but he’d be damned if any more of these people were lost now that they were in his custody.

5

July 3, 3202

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Hemratik

Paul stood outside the glass looking in on another preserve, with a mix of sadness and relief. There were still Archon and Commando teams moving around the planetary facility hunting down the remaining lizards and securing level after level to make sure none slipped by, but there was no way for them to get reinforcements on or off with his fleet in orbit so it was just a matter of time before they were all killed and the facility was his.

Them fighting to the death as usual wasn’t what he was sad about. It was the occupants here. He’d been visiting a lot of the races, some he knew, a lot he didn’t, and all of them had to stay put until he could get a large enough relief fleet here to evacuate them. That meant civilian jumpships configured to carry a wide range of races, including the rock-like aliens he was looking at now. They weren’t moving around, just standing in place like statues in a very small enclosure compared to the others built here. They had about a half mile wide region that contained some 3,000 of them based off a quick glance, and there were a few other identical facilities nearby.

In total there were about 12,000 survivors, and Paul couldn’t tell by looking at them what their physical status was, but from their minds he could draw a different kind of picture. These Kvash were in bad shape, for the most part, but a few were younger, having been born here more recently, and that youth meant less wear and tear on them from captivity, though their minds were not the same as they should be. With each generation they’d lose their identity, until after enough years they’d be completely institutionalized. There wouldn’t be any trace of Kvash knowledge or culture remaining, save for maybe their language, but he doubted that most of these Kvash could even read or write by this point.

The other races here were no different, but here was an old ally that Paul had thought was destroyed and he knew that no matter how bad off these Kvash were he’d be able to save them and restart their race within Star Force. They’d once had a population upwards of 50 trillion and were arguably the strongest race within the original Alliance until the lizards had eventually defeated them. They hadn’t evacuated to the ADZ with the others, going their own way and fighting to the last in what was for all intents and purposes an unwinnable fight, and only thanks to the Hycre did the Bsidd come out of that to land in the ADZ, for they’d suffered the same fate.

There were Bsidd here too, though Paul hadn’t gotten around to seeing them yet. He was going to rescue everyone here, but the Kvash were a race that had predated Star Force’s rise to dominance. They’d worked together in some small ways in the past, but they had always been the stronger and a bit brusque with the Humans. They had no idea what Star Force would become, and he was glad that they weren’t completely wiped out from the galaxy, even if this had been the way they’d been forced to survive.

In some regards he wished they’d just died and didn’t have to suffer like this, not even wanting to know what kind of experiments had been done on them, but as long as they were alive he was going to seize the opportunity and bring these guys back. The Calavari, Bsidd, and in a small way the Nestafar had all found a place in Star Force. The Hycre were independent but were still an ally and now a Protectorate in some respects. The Kvash were the fifth piece of that old Alliance puzzle and it felt very good finding them here.

He worked his way away from the glass and around to the access point for the chamber. The lizards couldn’t go in there without equipment, for the average temperature was 160 F, but that wasn’t something that was going to bother Paul’s armor and he could breathe the air thanks to a chilling function on his helmet. He didn’t expect any of these Kvash would recognize his armor or even know what an Archon was, given the fact that it had been some 700 years since their civilization had fallen and their ancestors had been brought here as captives.

Paul passed through an energy shield once the doors opened, walking into the oven that was ‘mild’ temperature for the Kvash. When he approached one of the short, standing rock piles they didn’t move. None of them did. Rather than scatter it seemed they were just impassive, though he could still sense their fear. They had nowhere to run, so these prisoners had taken to a sedate existence. That was a true pity, for it meant their lives would be even shorter without even accidental training effect from moving around in a panic.

Then again, in a place like this, a shorter life might be a good thing…save for the fact that there were less of them here to save now.

Let’s see if these guys still know how to talk, Paul thought, activating the translation program for the Kvash language rather than the trade language the Alliance had used. He doubted these Kvash would have learned two here, so he was guessing they would have preserved their default, though it could have altered over all these years without any standards in place to keep it rigid and ward against linguistic evolution.

Paul walked up less than a meter in front of one and looked down on the Kvash’s flat head. Its eyes not staring back, and it having no other features on its face save for some small slits in the rock-like exoskeletal skin that it used to produce sounds.

“You do not remember me, but I am an ally of your ancestors that were brought here as prisoners when your civilization was conquered. We have come here to destroy the Cajdital. You are no longer prisoners.”

A few rocky heads that resembled tabletops shifted, but a far cry from what was triggering in their minds that Paul could sense. Each race behaved differently, but there were some similarities. Hope, relief, disbelief…they were all there, but in different forms. The Kvash thought quickly, and if it hadn’t been for their stagnation here they could also move fairly quick despite their sluggish appearance.

“What are you?” one of them asked, but not the one directly in front of him.

“I am Human. There was once an Alliance between the Kvash, the Hycre, the Nestafar, the Calavari, and the Bsidd. We were an associate of the Hycre and joined the Alliance as a junior member. We have grown to dominance over the Hycre and all others, and are now finishing the fight that the Alliance began and reclaiming the worlds that the Cajdital took from you. The Hycre are our allies and the Calavari, Nestafar, and Bsidd are now part of our empire. We thought you were totally wiped out, and though I do not pretend that your living conditions here are anything but deplorable, I am very relieved to find some of you alive.”

“Show us your face. Prove you are not a Cajdital,” one of them said from further off as it slowly walked towards him.

“The heat is not good for us, but I can stand it for a brief time,” he said, forming a bioshield over his head and extending it out a bit to catch some air when his helmet retracted. His face blushed with heat from the spill through, but he was alright. He looked at the Kvash, twisting his head back and forth, then resealed his helmet before he ran out of air.

“I am not one of your tormentors,” he promised. “They are being killed as we speak and you will not be seeing them again. You will have to remain in this chamber until we get a properly equipped ship and transport equipment from our homeworlds to move you. We did not know you were here otherwise we would have brought it with us. We will provide you with food and supplies during the transition, but you will no longer have to fear the Cajdital. Their time here is over and all of their prisoners are being freed.”

“What others?”

“There are many captured races here, including some other Kvash. The lizards were keeping you as trophies. Whenever they conquered a race they kept a few alive and brought them here. I have a lot of people to rescue, so I ask that you remain patient until we are able to remove you from this place.”

“What will happen to us?” the one in front of him said, finally rising up a bit to its full height. Despite the naivety he sensed in these Kvash, they were remarkably even keeled. No doubt that was one reason why they’d built their warfleet the way they had, with such huge ships and starbases that required patience and wisdom to operate and was the polar opposite of the lizard’s expendable fleet philosophy.

“I will take you back with us and build up a planet where you can live free,” Paul said, feeling the urge and opportunity in their mindsets to go a bit further. “I know you know little of what you once were, but I will help you reclaim what you have lost and rebuild your civilization. If you do not want to have any part in that and just want to get away from here then you may live with us without responsibility. You will be our guests for the remainder of your lives, but your offspring will be able to reclaim the lost past and I will show them and any of you that are willing the way. The same goes for every other race held captive here, but you will have a special place with us.”

Paul looked around at all the Kvash, some of which were moving towards him. “It will take time. A lot of time. But now time is your ally rather than your enemy. You are prisoners no longer. You are simply waiting here for your ride out, and from there you will begin a journey into…things you can’t even imagine,” Paul admitted. “The dark days are over now, and you need not fear any longer. It will take time for you to adjust to freedom, but you have a future now. Welcome back, my friends.”

Several Kvash who had come close looked at each other, conversing in their own language with Paul picking up bits and pieces of it. The translation software was severely outdated, given that there hadn’t been any Kvash alive and it’d been relegated to a dead language.

“We do not know of what you speak. We only know of here.”

“Then let me show you,” Paul said, forgoing the limited holoprojector that his armor held and accessing their minds directly. “I have mind powers, and I will show you some of your history.”

The Archon sat down on the ground casually in his armor, not noticing the scorching temperatures, and began sending them memories of his own and visual recordings of battles the Kvash had fought in that he was actively pulling from the battlemap link they’d run up to the surface and using to access the fleet databases.

He was watching it on his HUD and mentally transmitting what he saw to them, and decided to take a decent amount of time with them before he headed off to meet and greet some of the other races here.

Several weeks later, when the facility had been confirmed cleansed of lizard presence thanks to a widespread and exhaustive search using Archon telepathy, Paul returned to the Excalibur and got in some decent workouts, not having had much available to him other than some long runs down within the planet based out of the mobile facilities that they’d set up camp in. After starting to feel a little better with the workout burn saturating his body, he returned to the command nexus on the bridge and took stock of his fleet’s positioning and made a few tweaks while watching the live status update from the others as they continued to engage lizard orbital assets but not having tried punching down to a major planet or assaulting a shipyard ring yet.

He’d been keeping in the loop from his armor link, but that was primitive compared to what he could do in a proper nexus. After getting his space footing again he went into a side task, detailing a report for Davis that he was going to send out with a courier within a few minutes. One had already been sent back requesting the relief fleet in order to get it here as fast as possible, but he wanted Davis to get to work on what was going to be a small, but major shift within Star Force. The population of the prisoners wasn’t large, but there were so many races here that had otherwise been eradicated it was going to take a lot of work to keep them from expiring now that the lizards weren’t forcing them to reproduce via sometimes horrific means.

Paul activated the holo-recorder rather than sending a text transmission, for he expected this to be a very long message.

“Davis, I’ve got a lot to put on your plate this time. As you’ve already been told there are a lot of prisoners from races that have been thought extinct or nearly so that need to be rescued, but we need to do more than just take them in as refugees. The lizards didn’t pick these races because they were collecting samples. Each one represents a significant opponent that they had to overcome, meaning there is a lot of potential in these guys. The Kvash especially, but there are others here who, I’m guessing, could hold even more assets for Star Force down the road.”

“If we treat them as refugees and put them into Axius we’re going to lose them through attrition. We need to insure that we get access to younglings and create programs to rebuild these races as a part of Star Force. Ward status for a lot of them, but with the Kvash and others we need to fast track them beyond that. I personally want to oversee the Kvash program, not so much as in spending every waking day with them, but I want to design it and run it from afar. I think I can turn these guys into a naval powerhouse once again, but there are only around 12,000 of them left so we have to hit the ground running with this.”

“I need a program set up for them to get into immediately upon arrival in the ADZ or wherever you think is suitable to plant them. It will take centuries before their population even hits nominal levels, but this is an investment we need to make. Forget their history, these guys have potential with us based off of what they are now. I haven’t had a chance to sense a Kvash mind before, but even broken as these are they are impressive as hell.”

“There are 283 races that we have discovered here, though we have not visually inspected them all as of yet, and some of them were being kept strictly as a food supply and some of those will need sanctuary status. Priority has been on eliminating the lizards and making sure they didn’t kill off the prisoners. Thankfully that hasn’t happened, but we couldn’t take chances. All the races here are in bad physical, and especially mental states, but they’re worth salvaging.”

Paul sighed. “You might think I’m just getting sentimental, but I’m not. We have a huge opportunity here to reshape Star Force…not that we need it, but this is too good to pass up. We already have a lot of wards, and this will more than double the count, but I think we can get some full factions out of the Kvash and others someday down the road and I think we should be gearing them towards that immediately, not using a ‘wait and see’ system.”

“We didn’t know these guys would be here, so we’re already a step behind. I want this to be the last lapse and I need you to work your magic on this. We’re going to have to evaluate the new guys, but as far as the Kvash are concerned this is what I want to do…”

6

June 7, 3204

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Semtric

Greg-073 sat on a stool in the nexus onboard his command ship, looking down at the lizard world of Semtric as his fleet bombarded the surface relentlessly in the face of hundreds of cleansing beams and a scattering of new lizard weapons that packed even more of a punch. He was losing drones rapidly as the lizards targeted individual ones with multiple strikes, but Greg had so many in play that it was only a matter of time before one of the shields on the surface collapsed.

That happened about 20 seconds later, with him adjusting fire to the few key facilities in that newly exposed area, then on to the next closest intact shield. One of the new big beam gun batteries fell silent but the onslaught coming up from the surface continued. This was the second primary planet in the system to be assaulted, with troops already on the surface of Kennfrit battling to remove the lizards from that rock. Star Force wasn’t waiting to cherry pick these one at a time, and as long as the fleets were here they might as well strip the defenses off the other planets ahead of freed up ground troops being ready to assault the second world and shipyard ring simultaneously.

Another shield and battery went down under the fire of Paul’s fleet, then two more fell to Rio’s and Olivia’s. The longer it took to punch a sizeable clear zone down to the planet the more drones they would lose, so the trailblazers had decided to mount a huge fleet action and pound this planet’s defenses as fast as possible to minimize damage taken. The assault on Kennfrit had cost them heavily in terms of drones due to the unforeseen damage of the new lizard weapon systems and they didn’t want to repeat that, so they were literally throwing everything they had at this one and giving the lizards too many targets to choose from.

The big beam weapons were packing a considerable punch, but their rate of fire was low. Still, each time one fired they were hitting the smaller drones in the fleet and killing one with each shot. Destroyers on up could survive a hit, but their shields would be gone as well as most of their armor. It was a tradeoff that Star Force was having to make in order to get through the intense surface defenses that the planet contained…and had Star Force tried to eliminate all of the anti-orbital batteries on a single world from orbit, they would have lost most of their fleet in the process.

That’s how well defended these capitol worlds were, and the homeworld of Yamitar looked to be no different…save that it was some 38% larger than this one. That meant even more guns in range and a lesser curvature to bring others out of line with the targets in extreme low orbit. All six of these worlds were nightmares, but nightmares that had to be taken down and Star Force was going to get the job done slowly but surely.

The shipyard ring around this world had already been plucked of defenses, but there were no ground troops onboard yet. They were all down on Kennfrit expediting that invasion as much as possible. Its shipyard ring had gone to make the minefield, so in that way the lizards had saved Star Force some time, not requiring them to conquer it first or splitting their numbers with the ground assault.

With a hole now for his fleet to expand upon, Greg had a group of drones suddenly dive towards the surface. The lizards knew what was coming and several cleansing beams readjusted their attacks to target them, missing most but nailing a destroyer and a frigate that were covering for the single special drone inside their tightly packed formation. There was also a shield ship with them providing extra protection in addition to the speed they were coming down into the atmosphere with.

When they got close enough the secondary surface defenses opened up, adding a lot of shield loss and damage to the drones but they managed to get their charge down to the cityscape of the mildly wrecked target that Greg’s fleet had first hit. Most of the buildings were intact for the simple reason that they didn’t waste time targeting them when they had other nearby massive shield plates to take down.

The drones stuck with their special cousin with another destroyer dropping to the ground and ramming a building as it was knocked out while the group angled into a horizontal direction that was skimming over building tops and heading for the edge of the clear area. They kept low enough that the big guns couldn’t target them, having to fly between buildings part of the time all the way over to the next closest city, one that wasn’t under attack yet. It had a plate shield up high overhead ready to absorb a lot of punishment with its rigid design, but it wasn’t protecting laterally.

The drones slipped under that shield height, delivering their demolition twin to the edge then turning back, staying down in the buildings and beginning to shoot targets of opportunity now that they were on the planet. A minute later there was a huge explosion underneath that shield dome near the city center that leveled hundreds of buildings…but more importantly the shield plate dropped thanks to the kamikaze drone. The time and firepower needed to take that shield down conventionally would have cost Star Force hundreds of drones, so economically the tradeoff was worthwhile, even though Greg didn’t have very many of those drones left. Most had been used against the first planet.

Neither he nor the others wanted to wait for a lot more to come, so as soon as they had a decent supply of them they’d decided to attack, sick of having to tolerate these guys nearby as they assaulted another world.

As Greg oversaw his portion of the bombardment he raised an eyebrow when he saw the Excalibur dive down towards the surface with a flock of drones in tow. A lot of them didn’t make it, but his big donut did and parked itself over the city as a few cleansing beams nicked the top of it before it had blasted the buildings below it low enough for the ship to depress far enough to be out of the firing line.

The drones with it did the same, lowering into gaps between buildings and firing into them without bothering to worry about the lizards inside. A surrender offer had been given prior to the attack, and subsequently ignored. The lizards would have many opportunities to surrender going forward, but for right now Star Force was going to forcefully blow a hole in the lizard planetary defenses and it looked like Paul was taking a more direct approach than the others. He was using the tiny bit of his fleet that had made it down to the planet to chew apart the buildings and expand the area of destruction that would eventually connect to Greg’s region and others nearby, fully forming the ground invasion corridor that would then be used to establish a foothold on the planet.

He watched what Paul was doing off and on, noticing that he was overly pounding the same ground rather than moving on once the nearby buildings were down. That did make the rubble shield against subterranean lizard tunnels and structures more even and compact, but he guessed Paul was doing it because he hated the idea of trapping lizards under the rubble to slowly die…so he was blasting everything so hard that it was unlikely that anything would survive from the upper city.

That was one way of going about it for sure, and typical Paul, with Greg noting that he was going to end up being more efficient with his grounded warships than his own demolition drone attack had been so long as Paul didn’t encounter stiff resistance from ground defense turrets. He doubted that, but could see a lot of fire coming from the surrounding city that Paul’s shields were shrugging off, including occasional explosions that he knew were not coming from Star Force weaponry and were far larger than lizard infantry missiles could account for.

He hadn’t noticed those on the first planet, and they were nearly one third of the way across its surface.

What other little surprises do these guys have waiting for us?

12 years later…

“Liam?” Paul asked over the comm.

“Just about ready. This beast is fat and fighting the accuracy needed. She’s not ready for this, you know?”

“Doesn’t have to be pretty.”

“It won’t be,” Liam assured him from onboard the hastily constructed Devastator-class weapons platform. Back on Earth they’d taken one of the existing Bra’hem defense turrets and brought it up to orbit, stuck it in a shipyard, and built a warship around it. It wasn’t fast, agile, or efficient, and had to be helped here with the assistance of several jump cradles to get the necessary speed to cross the distance from Star Force capitol to lizard capitol in relatively decent time…but it was the most powerful weapon Star Force had at their disposal, not counting the V’kit’no’sat pyramid defenses.

“Think the lizards even suspect this is coming?”

“Ha…I didn’t even think this was coming until Roger suggested it. It’s nuts, you know.”

“Totally,” Paul agreed.

“Good thing we like nuts. Alright, we’re ready,” he said as the Devastator sat in very high orbit over the third lizard primary world. The first one had already been conquered and the ground troops were heavily engaged on the second. “Keep your fingers crossed.”

“It’ll work,” Paul insisted.

“Yeah, we’ll you’re not the one sitting in it in case it blows up.”

“How’s it going to blow up?”

“You know what I mean. Everyone clear?” Liam said unnecessarily, as he could see the battlemap well enough. “Here goes.”

Paul watched from an external view as the huge ship fired what looked like a tiny green beam down at the planet. It stretched out farther than any of the lizard weapons could even hope to reach, traveling some 149,000 miles to where it hit the first lizard defense shield on this planet while the fleet also sat outside of anti-orbital defense range.

A close up view of the surface showed that green needle hit the shield plate. It hesitated ever so slightly then punched straight through and melted the building beneath it. The vaporized material mushroomed out and exploded into nearby buildings, looking like a water balloon smash from afar only save the fact that this was actually solid rubble and not soft liquid.

Paul smirked. A one shot kill. Perfect.

“Not bad,” he told Liam with a bit of skepticism. “You blow up yet?”

“Noooo,” he said sarcastically as he studied various readings as the weapon recharged. “Adjusting for second target. Ready to fire in 32 seconds.”

Paul waited and watched as the second green needle popped another lizard balloon and detonated a building beneath much like the first…both of which had been the shield generator towers, ensuring that they would not be regenerating to cover those cities again.

“Well done,” he said in all seriousness.

“The Bra’hem is performing as expected. Odd that this is our first live firing test.”

“Of one this size anyway.”

“Like Davis said, no need to blow up a perfectly good ship just to test it.”

“We could have found a lizard jumpship easy enough,” Paul differed, having wanted to test the weapons on Earth but getting overruled on that idea. Davis had said he didn’t want to clean up the debris in orbit after they got done playing and told them they could test fire them all they wanted when they build one on a Clan world.

“I’d say this is better,” Liam noted.

“Agreed.”

“Nice shot,” Taryn said, joining in on their little virtual conference. “So we have a lumpy Death Star now?”

Liam laughed. “I’m surprised someone else beat Paul to that.”

“I’m glad we beat the lizards to it,” Paul said, deferring their joint merriment. “It’s going to save a whole lot of drones over the coming years.”

“It’ll be the first thing they target with their fleets,” Taryn cautioned.

“We don’t have to bring it in early,” Liam differed. “Wipe out the defenders then bring it in with the ground troops.”

Taryn’s hologram feigned shock. “You mean you don’t want to snipe ships with it?”

“If they had an invoker or assault pillar sure,” Paul answered, “but cruisers would be like swatting at a swarm of mosquitos.”

“Agreed. Nice work you guys. Glad the naval geeks came through on this one.”

Paul and Liam both glared at her as she smiled and her hologram disappeared.

“Prick,” Liam pronounced humorously.

“Her braid’s probably too tight,” Paul said as Liam fired the Devastator again, knocking out yet another of the ‘small’ shield segments blanketing the planet. “Any negligible variation?”

“Not yet. We’ll see how long this can last. Davis really should have let us test fire these on Earth.”

“I think he didn’t want us putting on this big of a fireworks display.”

“People are going to know now,” Liam pointed out.

“Should we edit this bit from the news vids?”

Liam considered that as he set up another firing angle. “We’ll seal it classified and send it to Davis. He can decide if he wants to make our possession of the boomstick public or not.”

“Boomstick…that’s way better than Death Star.”

“I have my moments. Too bad Roger isn’t here to see it.”

“I’m sure he’ll manage to find a way to gloat from afar,” Paul said smugly, referring to the other piece of their naval triumvirate that was off hitting smaller lizard worlds low on the galactic plane. “And he deserves it this time. I didn’t even think about trying this.”

“Neither did I, though it seems kind of obvious right now.”

“I was still thinking in terms of production. We couldn’t have built another for at least 20 more years.”

“We could do it in 15.”

“Still too late.”

“You think we’re going to be done here in 15?”

“I don’t know. If we just slaughtered all the lizards we could.”

“Not an option. Besides, I want to have a walk around their homeworld and see what’s there. Let’s try not to blow up too much of that before then, ok?”

“Getting cocky now?”

Liam smirked, this time in apology. “Right. Don’t want to jinx us,” he said as he fired the weapon again, popping another shield. “This is seeming too easy.”

“Let’s milk it while we’ve got it.”

“You going down with your fleet to lay the parking lot again?”

“Yes.”

“The ground forces won’t be available for a long time.”

“We can start building regardless.”

Liam looked at him oddly, then caught on. “Baiting them out?”

“As long as we have warships within range, why not?”

Paul’s peer sighed. “We have got to find a better way to defend a planet. Orbital bombardment is too damn effective.”

“Easy enough when you know where they’re going to fire.”

“Even then, the V’kit’no’sat could punch through any shields we have in place this easily. A Mach’nel would punch right through our shields with their baby Tar’vem’jic,” Liam said, referring to one of the larger V’kit’no’sat warships and the largest naval weapon that they possessed, which was a smaller version of what the pyramid’s main gun was.

“I’m working on it,” Paul said grimly.

“We all are, but you know as well as I do that we haven’t caught up enough yet. 1,200 years of research with their playbook and blueprints and it still hasn’t been enough.”

“If this tech was easy, a lot of other races would have it. Be glad that we’ve got what we have, otherwise the lizards would have killed us long ago.”

Liam glanced back down at the planet, taking in the mass of infrastructure and life within it…malevolent life intent on killing just about everything else in the galaxy if and when they had the opportunity.

“Yeah, I guess we overlook that sometimes. It’s still scary though. The lizards have nothing that can stop the Bra’hem, and I wouldn’t want to be in their situation now.”

“No…they have the chance to surrender and live. We won’t get that opportunity. Whether it be lizards or V’kit’no’sat, they’re coming for blood.”

“True,” Liam said as another green needle punctured a shield and detonated the tower beneath. “Let’s keep whistling past the graveyard then and hope we have enough time to catch up before fate comes knocking.”

“They’ve also had 100 millennia to make upgrades.”

“Let’s hope Kara is right about them being slackers when they’re not pushed.”

7

June 7, 3221

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Trexklip

Greg was on the surface of the fourth planet that Star Force had invaded, helping a team of Bsidd clear out yet another piece of the lizard infrastructure when he got a report from one of the advanced teams fighting a few hundred kilometers to the north. The Archon punched another lizard back into a wall then dashed into a trio to his right, ramming one with his shoulder and spinning through a wrist lash that caught the other two, knocking them unconscious with the body blows from his very hard armor.

He put a shot into all four lizards, then used a Jumat blast to shove back a fifth that a nearby Bsidd finished off for him as a team of 13 of them finally caught up to his position. Greg mentally signaled to them to hold position and watch his back while he took the comm call.

“What is it?” he asked the Archon titan whose headshot appeared in a tiny square of his HUD.

“We have a prisoner.”

Greg frowned. “A lizard actually surrendered?”

“Not intentionally. He was unconscious when we found him, but we now have him in custody.”

“And why are you doing that?” Greg asked, knowing that every lizard they’d ever taken prisoner by force had killed themselves rather than remain confined, so Star Force had adopted the practice of only taking voluntary prisoners with regards to the lizards…of which there never were any.

The Archon’s tiny head image smiled. “He’s a mastermind.”

Greg immediately stiffened. “How, where, when, and what’s his condition and current location?”

“Building destruction, pinned under light rubble in a subsurface bunker, damage induced about 20-25 hours ago, we found him about 10 minutes ago, and he’s sedated and being brought back to the nearest firebase for treatment and containment,” the titan said, mentally ticking off all the points.

“Keep him unconscious at all times until I get there. I’ve got some fighting left to do here, then I’ll personally take custody of him.”

“Copy that.”

“And you, young man, are getting an extra box of donuts.”

“A whole box? Not sure I earned that,” he said deadpan. “The falling rubble actually deserves the credit.”

“Noted. How bad are his injuries?”

“He’s pretty torn up, but he’ll keep all his limbs.”

“Head wounds?”

“Concussion, but I think his marbles are all still there.”

“Thank you,” Greg said with emphasis.

“Just picking up the trash,” the Archon said, his image winking out as he got back to work killing other lizards.

Greg contacted his command ship in orbit and arranged for them to prepare a holding cell and all necessary medical treatment to keep the mastermind alive, then he also go back to the task at hand, not wanting to risk his Bsidd unit by his absence and not wanting to order them to pull back. He’d finish up this latest push, then when they settled into defensive arrangements he’d take his leave and go have a chat with their elusive Jackalope.

Other than Kara, nobody had ever seen a mastermind in person. No mastermind had ever been captured. No body had ever been found. They were known to exist in many systems, based on the way the lizards there fought differently under their control, but they were kept well hidden despite many attempts to root them out. This one having got caught in a building collapse and still living was a stroke of crazy luck…so much so that Greg had the mastermind thoroughly scanned for booby-traps of any known kind just in case this was a Trojan horse to get at the Archons.

Greg suspected it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to take chances. The lizards here were beat, but they were making Star Force fight tooth and nail for every last bit of ground. This invasion could have been over years ago if only Greg and the other trailblazers had authorized total bombardment from orbit, obliterating every last thing on the surface and most of the subsurface. There would have been pockets of survivors underground that could have been hunted down and killed or left to starve to death afterwards, but Star Force was not going to fight like that.

He knew they were making this harder on themselves, but they were not going to become barbaric. The lizards were going to have a chance to surrender, each of them as they came into their areas, and Greg would be damned if they ever got in the habit of just shooting them on sight before they had a choice. Star Force was not going to become the lizards in order to defeat them. If they had to be killed, then so be it…but it would be done Star Force’s way on honorable terms, no matter if the conquest of this system took a century to complete.

The same was true of the assaults happening in other star systems, for Star Force wasn’t just fighting here. This was the most heavily fortified lizard system by far, and while there were other nasty core worlds to tackle there were probably not going to be any like this again. This was going to be the worst of it, and even if the lizards were building a new capitol in the coreward region it would take an insanely long time to develop it to the extent that even one of these six planets had risen to.

All of them were essentially one big city split up into shielded segments, and all of them stretched far underground where orbital rounds could not follow. Every building, every subsurface level, had to be fought into and cleared, looking out for explosives and other booby-traps, and sealed off so the lizards couldn’t flank the invading troops and get into areas already cleared. It was an insanely difficult task that Star Force now achieved almost casually…unless you were on the ground, where you realized the enormity of the endeavor and just how damn good the troops being deployed actually were.

And now the Star Force type of war was giving them an added benefit of a mastermind prisoner. With the templars and sovereigns all assumed to have been evacuated there was no chance of catching one of them here, but needle in the hay stack was an overly generous comparison to this situation where you had trillions of lizards and planets full of infrastructure to hide in. Greg was overly pleased that their methodical assaults had paid off in this lucky stroke, and neither he nor the other trailblazers were going to waste the opportunity it gave them.

None of them were here yet, busy with other things in the system, so Greg was going to have first crack at him. When he arrived back on his flagship he headed straight to the holding cell, entering in his pink ViLord armor that had a few scratches on it from recent battle. It stood out brightly compared to the already gleaming white armor of the Knights standing guard, who nodded down at him as he walked past them.

Greg retracted his helmet and looked at the nearby medtechs. “Learn anything yet?”

“Cognitive density is far larger than the librarians. I’m guessing this variant is by far the smartest the lizards have…though without being able to examine a templar I can’t say that for certain. It’s no wonder these guys are used as their battlefield commanders.”

“Much more than that, I’d guess. Find any bioweapons in him?”

“No. All indications are he was really caught unawares and his imprisonment was an accident.”

“Good. Wake him,” Greg said as he took a step towards the security field in front of the medical table where he lay under several scanners.

“He’s not restrained,” the medtech pointed out.

“I can handle that, but I can’t push out the medication you have in him.”

“Very well,” the medtech said as he gestured to another who began operating a control panel. Within the chamber most of the medical sensors retracted into wall slots where they couldn’t be damaged, but a few mechanical arms remained. One of them reached down and injected the large, muscular lizard with a counter-serum that would clear the sedation medicine from him within a matter of seconds.

The remaining monitoring arms disappeared from view as well several seconds before the mastermind began to twitch its way back to consciousness.

Greg kept a link into its mind so he could forestall any attempts to kill itself or cause other problems, but beyond that he let it wake naturally. Eventually it shook its head clear and rolled to the right, catching itself on the edge of the bed before falling off, then looking out through the clear blue energy field at the Human beyond.

Greg waited for it to slit its own throat, but to his surprise it didn’t try. Merely snarling as it rolled its thick legs off the bed to free its cramped tail, then it walked up to the energy shield and looked down at the trailblazer and others, standing as tall as the Knights behind Greg and massing considerably more. The lizard looked like a tiny version of Godzilla minus the back spikes, though he got the feeling this guy could move a whole lot faster if he wanted.

“Do you speak?” it asked in its native language.

“Somewhat,” Greg answered, reforming a piece of his helmet to cover his right ear. “My armor will translate the rest.”

“Why am I not dead?”

“You know we offer surrender options.”

“What do you demand of your prisoners?”

“I’m here to talk.”

“More likely to scan my mind.”

“Why aren’t you trying to kill yourself?” Greg wondered.

The mastermind stared at him with black, glassy eyes. “You have forcibly taken prisoners before?”

“We tried. They all killed themselves, and we couldn’t get any to do differently. Eventually we just returned those we had left.”

“Returned?”

“We sent them back to you. We’re not interested in killing you, only defeating you. When you don’t surrender you leave us with no other option. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

“Archon,” one of the medtechs said in an alarmed voice. “His vitals are crashing.”

Greg dug into his mind deeply, searching out the cause, but it was on the lizard’s conscious thoughts and therefore easy to access and trace back to the knowledge he needed.

“He has a mental kill switch. His body is shutting itself down.”

“I can’t treat him when he’s awake!”

“You cannot stop it,” the mastermind said, staggering a step as his body began to self-destruct from the inside out. There was no toxin of any kind involved, simply his mind triggering his body’s hardware to shut down.

“Like hell I can’t,” Greg said, the air around his armor shimmering with distortion as he walked into the shield between them. His body passed through and he froze the lizard in place, extending a hand towards it and peeling back the armor covering his pale flesh as he pressed it against the lizard’s thick green scales.

The medtechs flinched when they saw him go through the shield without lowering it, not knowing how that was possible, but they forced themselves to focus on the task at hand and brought a few of the scanners back out from their wall niches, waiting for the Archon to lay him back down but he didn’t.

“Get the Kich’a’kat now. It’s the only thing that will work,” he said as he could feel the status of the lizard’s body and his feeble attempts to heal it failing utterly. There was no damage involved, simply a shutdown, and he didn’t know how to override that so he tried to force his heart to keep pumping and a few other organs functioning but it was a losing effort. He could drag it out only so long, then the body parts simply ignored all further input.

“Hurry,” he demanded.

“It’s coming,” the medtech informed him, referring to the one original regenerator that each trailblazer kept with them when in the field, though Star Force had many lesser copies made from their own tech. But everyone knew they were mere toys compared to the real deal, and he really hoped there was something in their automated programming that could fix this internal sabotage.

By the time an Archon outside his armor came running in carrying the small shiny silver device the lizard was already dead, with Greg telekinetically holding his body upright in a standing position. Greg shut the energy shield down so he could pass him the Kich’a’kat, then he put the device on the lizard’s chest.

For a moment he thought it wasn’t going to activate, but then it melted down and extended out its little rivulets until it covered half his body. Greg had withdrawn his hand, but without a functioning mind to access he no longer could monitor what was happening inside, so he glanced back at the medtechs who were monitoring their own sensor equipment.

“Nothing yet,” one reported.

Greg could see inside the lizard with his Pefbar, watching the tiny tendrils continue to spread out, but it wasn’t until they reached the mastermind’s brain was there any reaction…but it came from the Kich’a’kat rather than the lizard. The branches it had extended into the body quickly withdrew and the material extended up into the brain with thousands of tiny, thinner than hair-sized extensions accessing bits and pieces without damaging them in ways that still boggled Greg’s mind.

He did note that some tendrils still remained, connecting to the heart and lungs, and soon those organs began to function minimally, with Greg guessing that the Kich’a’kat was manually working them in a way that the trailblazer couldn’t.

With that blood flow resuming at a creep, something else happened within the mind…

“It’s bringing him back,” the medtech said with a measure of awe.

Greg smiled. This bastard wasn’t escaping them after all.

But the Kich’a’kat didn’t let go of the lizard.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “It’s still working on something.”

“I’m not certain,” the medtech said with a frown as the lizard woke back up and Greg froze him in place physically but didn’t alter him mentally so in order to not mess with the Kich’a’kat while it was working.

“I’ve never seen this happen before,” Greg commented.

“Neither have we,” another medtech answered. “The work is always quick. It looks like it’s stuck in place.”

“It’s got to be doing something…is the kill signal still active?”

The other medtech snapped his fingers, realizing Greg was right, and extended some more equipment out from the walls and did a specific scan. A few moments later he had his answer.

“It’s not done because it’s blocking the shutdown signal. That mechanism is part of the lizard’s genetic structure, not damage, but it’s causing damage. The Kich’a’kat can’t remove it because it’s supposed to be there, but it can’t let it order the body’s organs to shut down either, so it’s just blocking the signals.”

“We have to neutralize that signal ourselves,” Greg insisted.

“Anything we do the Kich’a’kat will repair.”

“Damn,” Greg said, realizing he was right.

“He’ll try to kill himself the old fashioned way,” the unarmored ranger that had brought the regenerator in offered. “Might as well let him go down this road rather than having him tear his own throat out…after we get the information we need. How long does the battery on that thing last?”

Greg smiled grimly. He didn’t like the end result, but the other Archon was right. This guy was going to die by his own hand at some point anyway. Might as well get the information now and just use the Kich’a’kat as a stopgap against the self-destruct from doing its thing.

“I don’t think it’s ever been run continuous,” Greg said, glancing at the medtechs.

“They’re supposed to last several hours of continuous use. We always put them into a recharging container when they’re not being used so it’s never come up before.”

“Get the techs down here to work up a portable recharger so that it can draw power while functioning and be prepared to camp out here for a few days,” his attention turned to the Archon. “Tell the other trailblazers to get their asses here on the double. If they argue they’re busy, make them understand. Go in person if you have to, but get them here now.”

The ranger didn’t offer any response, not wasting the second that it would take as he ran out of the room. Greg could have called the bridge or any of the trailblazers directly using his armor, but he was going to be busy here and at least some of the trailblazers would either be sleeping or in battle and unavailable, so he needed someone on that task while he focused here.

The mastermind regained enough consciousness to begin to wonder why he was still alive, then looked down at his body and the alien piece of technology imbedded on his chest.

“Sorry,” Greg said, increasing his telekinetic grip on him as he began to struggle, intent on ripping the thing off. “But you’re not getting off that easy. Your empire has been murdering trillions of people and doing a lot of other really disgusting things, and I want to know why, how, and what other things you’re up to that we don’t know about. You may not be a templar with all the answers, but you know enough to have a kill switch woven into your genetic structure, and you’re either going to tell us or we’re going to dig the information out of your mind.”

The mastermind snarled a string of words that the translator couldn’t fully grasp, but Greg’s reading of his mind provided the context. He turned around to face the Knights with a wry look on his face.

“That’s the lizard version of ‘Fuck You.’”

8

June 8, 3221

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Trexklip

Paul walked into the holding cell, seeing Greg, Jax, Ace, Taryn, and Dan sitting around silently on tables, most with their eyes closed, and an assortment of techs monitoring readouts while a giant lizard stood still as a statue behind a blue containment shield. The Archon raised an eyebrow and walked past the others, seeing that Dan had a Lachka tendril wrapped around the lizard to hold him in place and telepathically signaled to him that he’d take over.

The telekinetic binds shifted from one to the other, with Paul loosening up the restraints a bit and letting him shift his fleet in place as he looked up at his pitch black eyes.

“I am Paul-024,” he said without the benefit of a translator, for he wasn’t wearing any armor since transferring over to Greg’s command ship, though two of the others still were.

The mastermind’s stance shifted slightly and all the trailblazers could feel the recognition.

“You are known to me.”

“I am curious how much you know of me. Most of the recent invasions haven’t let any ships leave to report, so how much intel do you have on me?” he said, making it a personal connection.

“You are the most difficult spacebound commander to fight,” the lizard said with a mix of disgust and grudging respect.

“Have you and I crossed paths before this system?”

The lizard almost smiled. “We have.”

Paul frowned. “Where exactly?”

“You call the system Tyrannus.”

Paul though back in recent memory, then one campaign clicked from over 200 years ago. “You were in the flotilla that escaped through the asteroid field?”

“Your memory is sound.”

“I took that system, but a small number of your ships got away. I knew one of you was there, but I could never locate you. You hide exceptionally well.”

“Why do you bother to speak to me when it is obvious that you can invade my mind at will? These others,” he said with disgust, “have been doing so for hours while I am their puppet.”

“I can do both, but prefer actually talking to someone of your skill. Were ships and technology even, you and the others of your kind would make difficult commanders to defeat.”

“You assume dominance?”

“I am well familiar with my own skills…though not overestimating them. I am slightly better at adapting than you are.”

“Tell me then how you discovered my location.”

“I’ll admit we didn’t. You were found in the rubble. We had no idea of your location.”

The lizard’s face twisted up in a mix of rage and satisfaction, knowing that he had not been bested, only caught by bad luck. “And what do you hope to gain from me?”

“Feel like changing sides?” Paul asked casually.

“You do not understand us if you think there is even a chance of that.”

“I don’t fully understand you,” Paul said in all seriousness. “You are misusing your skills and have become a threat I have to deal with. I would much prefer to be allies, yet the Li’vorkrachnika seem bent on exterminating all other life in the galaxy. Why must you expand in such a manner?”

“We do not have much use for slaves.”

“But why kill everyone else? Why not coexist with at least some of them?”

“We coexist with those that we must.”

“And kill all those that you can? What is your end goal? Even if you are able to conquer the galaxy and destroy every other race in it, what does that gain you?”

“The galaxy.”

“To do what with?”

“Whatever we wish.”

“Is there no purpose to your civilization?”

“My purpose is to serve my civilization. Others set the direction and goals.”

“But what are they? I’m not asking you to divulge secrets…we’ll probably get those anyway with time, but just in general, why are you expanding? Is there a limit you wish to reach or are you going to continue expanding indefinitely?”

“The larger we grow the more powerful we become.”

“True,” Paul conceded, “and not without merit. How you expand matters greatly, which is why we’re presently in conflict. But is there nothing else driving you beyond expansion?”

“You seek common ground?”

“I seek an option other than having to hunt down and kill every last one of you.”

“Submit.”

“And what will that gain us, other than an eventual stab in the back? We’ve seen what you’ve done to former associates and slaves. And you’ve been eating the prisoners in this system. Is submission truly a valid option for us? If we agreed to a line that neither side would cross, would you always honor it, leaving each civilization to their own pursuits? Do not bother lying, I am in your head and know when you do.”

“Why do you not eat other races?” the mastermind asked instead. “Why do you war and conquer those who do?”

“Because we respect the sovereignty of life. Being dominant doesn’t mean you own the subordinate. They have as much right to live as we do. It is the place of the dominant to protect and guide the lesser, not to consume and exploit them.”

“Do you find strength in that approach?”

“Is that a genuine question or a veiled insult?”

“You should already know that. Do you believe your victories over us flow from your philosophy, or do you succeed in spite of them?”

“We make it harder on ourselves because of them in many cases,” Paul admitted freely.

“Why do so if you have that knowledge?”

“Therein lies the purpose behind our civilization, which is why I ask what yours is. Ours is not to expand, dominate, or even survive. Those are all lesser goals, but we will not pursue them if they conflict with the primary. And the primary is to do the right thing.”

“Ambiguous at best.”

“For you more than most. Are you aware that your genetic structure has been altered in order to assure loyalty and obedience, and that in doing so your sense of right and wrong has been at least partially suppressed?”

“My mind cannot be suppressed. It would be counterproductive.”

“We’ve never captured one of your kind before, but we created a genetic profile on you as soon as you were onboard this ship. I consulted it on my way over. I can assure you the blocks are there, same as with your other breeds. Curiously, we have failed to recover any detailed files on you or your leaders.”

“Such knowledge of them is restricted to even me,” the mastermind said, but Paul could sense a twinge of doubt mixed with professional curiosity.

“The blocks in question make it very difficult to consider options beyond what is mandated. How can you be such a good tactician despite those restrictions?”

“I have no restrictions.”

“Then you could choose not to kill yourself if you wanted? Out of all the Li’vorkrachnika that we have encountered, none have accepted surrender. And those that we did take prisoner anyway sought to kill themselves or each other without exception. How do you account for that?”

“What is there to account for? Perhaps you are merely accustomed to disorderly races.”

“Granted. But is your order achieved through skill and loyalty, or genetic manipulation that keeps you submissive to the group? Such a device might be effective, but it would also be a sign of inferiority. My kin and I need no such mechanisms. We are united in brotherhood. Other races may not be, but our Archons have never had a traitor. Have never conflicted with one another. We are solid. If the Li’vorkrachnika have to artificially create such a state, there will be drawbacks.”

“You have seen our effectiveness. What ‘drawbacks’ have you noticed?”

“Negotiation, trade, information exchanges, outreach. Your inability to interact with other races aside from killing them on the spot is a rather large inability on your part.”

“Do not mistake our unwillingness as ineptitude.”

“So you can make deals?”

“We typically do not seek them out, but we can if needed.”

“But do you honor them, or is it merely a tactic to manipulate your enemies?”

“Whatever is needed.”

“No, no,” Paul said, waving a finger in front of him, “there is a great difference. That is obviously a technique that you have not used before. One negotiates simply through your actions. By being honest and carrying through on established deals even if it turns out to be disadvantageous to you, you then generate reliability in the minds of others. That reliability can then be used as an asset. I do not believe that the Li’vorkrachnika possess that weapon in your arsenal, nor do I think you are capable of doing so with your current blocks in place. Perhaps your leaders are, if they do not have the blocks, but the rest of you cannot without being extremely strong willed.”

“Strong willed?”

“The blocks make independent thought difficult, not impossible.”

“Is that why you are talking to me? Hoping that I will have the will to betray my responsibility?”

“I am trying to ascertain what that responsibility is so I can propose an alternative that does not conflict with it.”

“My responsibility when captured is to escape if possible…”

“No chance of that.”

“…or die so to not give the enemy any information or assistance in any form.”

“And those two things are not currently possible,” Paul pointed out. “So tell me, is your intelligent mind considering other alternatives in this unforeseen circumstance, or is your mind driven to the same repetitive conclusion that you must kill yourself?”

“How are you preventing me?”

“That device heals you, but it cannot finish its task while your own body betrays itself. It is interfering with the process, but cannot stop the trigger. If we take it off you, you will die. That’s why I’m holding you in check physically.”

“And how exactly do you accomplish that?”

Paul looked at him with all respect. “If you only want to die, and there is no way to return that knowledge to the others, why do you ask? You have curiosity, the blocks have not eradicated it. You must use that curiosity to overcome the blocks.”

“I will not assist you.”

“Then how about assisting yourself? What if I agreed to let you go?”

The lizard saw the other Humans twitch, then regarded Paul skeptically. “Why?”

“If I wanted to use you as a courier to send back a message to your leaders, wherever they are now, could you do it? Or would your mental constrictions have you kill yourself the moment you were outside our control?”

The lizard began thinking hard. “What message?”

“Irrelevant. Could you do it, or would you be compelled to carry out your self-destruct order?”

“It is not an order, but a necessity. Take away the necessity and it no longer becomes an issue.”

“Would the other breeds do the same? Are they intelligent enough to make that distinction?”

The mastermind regarded him skeptically. “You have tried this approach before and failed?”

“If they were in our custody they would kill themselves, without fail. Only when we rendered them unconscious then delivered them to another location or free ship did they not do so. Tell me, if they did return to the others what happened to them? Were they reincorporated or destroyed?”

“I have no personal knowledge of this.”

“What would you do if I sent a captured ship back?”

“For what stated purpose?”

“None. I just released it from our custody after a period of time. None but your crew onboard.”

“I would destroy it before they had a chance to contaminate others.”

“Contaminate?”

“Subterfuge of some sort. Biological, explosive, software. You would not return them to us without purpose.”

“There is your answer. We would, and have in a few occasions, because we didn’t want to keep them sedated or restrained indefinitely. We’d rather they die against us in combat than to allow them to die as prisoners at their own hands. We did not tamper with them, we respected them for the living beings that they are. And from what you’ve said, I would guess they were killed upon returning, assuming they didn’t fly themselves into a star on the way back to save you the trouble. Your blindness to the possibility that we could have no malevolent motive has caused you to waste resources and personnel.”

“Negligible. You put value on life where there is little. If we need more personnel we simply create more.”

“So if I offered to let you and every other living Li’vorkrachnika in this system go, you wouldn’t consider it. You’d just write off trillions of people as inconsequential losses.”

“You would have us forfeit the remaining worlds without a fight?”

“In exchange for your lives and your freedom, yes.”

“Our lives are worth less than your losses and consternation with having to remove us.”

“And is that your personal assessment, or do the others do your thinking for you?”

“The logic is sound.”

Paul all but snarled, letting his displeasure and annoyance visibly show as he theatrically reached out a hand towards the lizard and telekinetically lifted him up off the floor and lightly bounced his head against the ceiling.

“My power is strong, not because it is built that way, but because I have increased it in small amounts year after year, and others have done the same. I have lived for more than a millennium, and will continue to grow stronger so long as I survive and continue training as I have. That power is something civilizations with your expendable philosophy will never achieve. You relegate your own powerbase to that which you can take cheaply and quickly, while true dominance is forged with time.”

Paul smashed him back to the floor, but kept his restraining hold on him so he couldn’t rip the Kich’a’kat off his chest. “You are inferior because you do not see the value in life. And you, personally, are someone who should see it, if only in a combat perspective. Highly skilled troops that, if allowed to continue development, will outscale the young 2 to 1. 3 to 1. 10 to 1. You know how damn effective we are in combat, but all of us are like that because we have had time to grow stronger because we weren’t deemed expendable. We keep our people alive in order for them to grow stronger and kick your ass. Can you not get that concept through your feeble mind!”

There was a brief, but chilling silence that the lizard finally broke. “That is why you do not push all advantages?”

“Destroying the enemy at the cost of ourselves is not an option. We would rather wait and devise a way to kill you without any of us dying. I do not know how much information flows back to you, but I have personally conquered several of your planets without losing a single person. We take injuries, then heal them, but if we do our jobs right none of our people will die.”

“We have cost you lives here.”

“Some, yes. And even one loss is unacceptable. A defeat.”

“Why then are you concerned about our lives?”

“Given time you could learn, overcome your blocks, and realize that we are only fighting you because you give us no choice. Stop destroying other races and we’ll leave you alone. If you would just understand that the war could be over in an instant.”

“You think to spare yourselves more losses via strengthening us?”

“You could look at it that way. Your strength is not a threat so long as you do not misuse it.”

“Strength is always a threat, and there can be no security if others have the power to dominate you.”

Paul sighed. “There it is then. That’s why you’re doing all this? You’re trying to take out threats before they can harm you. You’re so scared of the galaxy that you want to destroy it before it can destroy you.”

“We are not alone in that motivation.”

Paul flicked off the energy shield and walked inside the containment area, then turned it back on with him standing only a few inches away from the mastermind. He wore a thin robe like Kara had observed previously, but this one had been fashioned out of Star Force materials given that the clothing he’d worn when the building fell on him had been torn and battered upon recovery.

“If you are truly dominant, you do not need to fear others,” he underscored by tapping on the lizard’s exposed chest next to where the V’kit’no’sat device was. “I have no need to kill you. For all your strengths, you cannot harm me. And if not for that medical device I would release my hold on you to prove it. You would attack me and I would kick your ass, over and over again until you understood that I do not fear you. I respect your skills, but I do not destroy you because you possess them. My responsibility as a leader of Star Force is to be the best. And if I am not the best, I do not try to destroy those who are. I improve myself until I am the best again, then I continue improving to increase my advantage. Destroying your opposition instead of developing yourself is a telltale sign of an imposter.”

“I know my physical skills are no match for your abilities.”

“Are you not compelled to try to kill me regardless?”

“Perhaps.”

“And what purpose does that serve?”

“I might get lucky.”

Paul smiled. “Ok, I can agree with you on that count. But wasting numerous lives by telling everyone to do the same thing in the hope of you getting lucky every now and then is not worth the tradeoff. If you have nothing to lose, then go for it. But if you can live to fight another day, you shouldn’t waste your life looking for a lucky hit.”

“How then would you recommend we go about defeating you?”

“Defeating us, or keeping us from killing all of you?”

“Defeating you.”

Paul decided to indulge his curiosity as long as he was showing it. “You would either have to develop units stronger than ours, whether they be ships or personnel…especially personnel…or you would have to field so many weaker units that you’d need to blanket a star system with troops and ships in order to wear our superior units down. You almost did so long ago when we were weak, but now you do not have that option short of generating truly insane numbers, the like of which you do not possess the ability for.”

The lizard tilted its head down and slightly forward as far as Paul would allow him and stared the Human in the face.

“And there is your answer to why we must conquer the galaxy.”

9

June 21, 3221

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Trexklip

Paul walked into the holding area again, this time with only a pair of titans present and using their telepathy to hold him in place. Feeding him and other amenities had been tricky, but they’d kept Archons here round the clock to prevent him from killing himself and potentially destroying the regenerator…something that they didn’t have the skill to replace yet.

“I’ll take it from here,” Paul said, getting a telekinetic grip on the lizard and allowing the other two Archons to release him and walk out of the room. The trailblazer gestured to the pair of techs, one medical, one mechanical, to leave as well, then when the door shut behind them Paul walked up to the edge of the blue energy field and stared up at the mastermind again.

“More questions? I thought you had grown tired of my interrogation.”

“We are done,” Paul admitted. “We’ve learned a great deal from you, and there may still be some secrets you carry deep within your mind, but we’re not going to spend the time trying to find them when we don’t know what is or is not there.”

“Then why are you here?”

“We can cancel the self-destruct protocol within your mind. It requires equipment we do not have onboard this ship, but it is possible. We can even remove the capability from you if we wish.”

“You are moving me then.”

“No,” Paul said with a sigh, “but I will return you to another Li’vorkrachnika system, if you’ll allow it.”

“Allow it?”

“Are you going to kill yourself as soon as I release you? With your claws even if I arrange to disable your current method?”

“What do you wish to use me for? A courier?”

Paul shook his head. “Would there be any point? No message we send will be considered. You have made that clear.”

“Then what is your purpose? Contaminate me?”

“No. I simply don’t want you to die, but if we keep you here you are going to find a way to do it. And I will not keep guards on you at all times.”

“Why is my continued existence valuable to you?”

“I hate seeing skill such as yours be wasted.”

“So you would return me to another world, not one here that you are about to assault, but another where I will fight you later?”

“Perhaps, but that is of no disadvantage to us. They will grow a replacement for you if needed. Sending you back gains them little other than your experience.”

“That is something of note, whether you realize it or not.”

“And even now you are trying to find a way to die,” Paul said with irreverence. “Rather than trying to find a way to freedom, you seek to die. Do you not know I can see right through you?”

“So you say.”

“Sending you back may gain the Li’vorkrachnika a bit of information, and therefore not be in our best tactical interests, but the simple fact is we’re winning and you’re not going to be able to stop us. I do not expect your people to negotiate, so I am not offering to send you back as a messenger, nor am I intending to use you in some tactical sense. I am simply offering you travel back to your people as a courtesy.”

“Why not then send me to a planet in this system?”

Paul stiffened. “You won’t live as long here.”

The mastermind stared at him intently. “I cannot determine your intent. Your intent does not make sense.”

“We are enemies because you chose it. We don’t have to be enemies. I’ll fight and kill you if I have to in order to stop you from killing others, but I don’t do it because I seek your death. Someone of your skill should not be treated as expendable, and you deserve a chance to think and reason your way out of your genetic shackles. You’re smart enough to do it, given time, if you have a reason to try.”

“And what reason would that be?”

“Curiosity. Now that I’ve told you of it, you will want to know the truth. You can’t help it. You’ve been bred to find solutions, ascertain what works best, not blindly follow tradition. You are built to think, and once I have shown you the chink in your armor you will not be able to resist picking at it. You do not tolerate weakness or vulnerability, and in our conversations I have shown you many within the Li’vorkrachnika, though you may not fully understand them at the moment. In time, however, I am confident that you will reason most of them out.”

“So you seek to contaminate us with knowledge?”

Paul smiled faintly. “Perhaps so. But the truth is not a poison. It is a weapon that I am giving you. Only those who are wise can truly wield it. All others, no matter how effective they may be, are clumsy when trying to grasp it because they are in some form of denial. Only those who are loyal to the truth in its pure form can grasp its full power, and none of them are enemies of one another. All find themselves to be allies over time. If you came to see the truth you would be our ally, and I’m not speaking of your race, but you individually. I don’t think most of your kind are smart enough to work their way around your genetics.”

“Then why not keep me imprisoned in order to give me the time to contemplate these revelations?”

“Because I know at this point you already have, and you will either choose to pursue them further or turn a blind eye to them. Further time in this state is pointless. Only when you are free will you be able to truly think through the matters we have discussed.”

“Even if you did so it would be of no use. They would not accept me back unless I escaped by my own means.”

Paul pointed a finger at his scaly face. “There. You just did it. You broke with your programing for a split second and considered an alternative option. Don’t deny it, it’s too late. I saw it.”

The Human lowered the energy field and stepped up to him.

“I will not assist you with this.”

Paul loosened his grip on the lizard enough that he could move freely, but kept a zone over his chest where his arms would not move. He gave him a split second to realize he was no longer bound, then another to realize his arms wouldn’t allow him to tear at the device, before Paul leapt up to get more height and punched the mastermind in the side of the head.

“Think!” he demanded. “You are nearly my equal in strategic skill. Use your abilities and prove me wrong if I truly am, but do not cower like an imbecile. Find the truth, whatever it may be, and face it.”

Unable to get his clawed hands at the device on his chest, the mastermind went for his own throat…only to find that it was also inescapable. Unable to kill himself he decided to go after the Human instead and found that option was still available to him. He struck out with his thick right arm in an overhead slash that abruptly stopped as Paul simply raised an arm and blocked it.

The mastermind’s arm hurt as if he had just flung it against a bar of metal, with the two seemingly locked in place as he did not relent against the pain and tried to force his arm down, mostly out of spite, rather than trying to attack with his other.

“If you are truly my peer then you will think!” Paul half yelled. “If not, then you and the whole of the Li’vorkrachnika are INFERIOR,” he said, emphasizing that word with significant telepathic force just before the lizard grew faint and fell to the floor, soon to black out.

The mastermind woke up groggily, not knowing where he was or even who he was for a long moment, then he saw the interior of a familiar ship…one of their small atmospheric troop transports, and he was laying on the floor of the hold bound up in several restraining straps. He reflexively pulled against them, then as his head cleared enough to focus his strength he snapped them and freed himself, standing up just as his memories clicked in of his captivity.

He froze in place, looking and listening around as he heard the distant sounds of battle coming in through the broken cargo bay door that was slightly ajar and spilling in light from the exterior. He had no memory of coming here, nor where he was, and the fact that he was in one of his own craft made no difference. This must be some type of subterfuge. Reaching into his mind he sought out the self-destruct function, seeking to take this chance to fulfill his responsibility before the Humans could stop him, having erred by giving him this moment of freedom.

But it wasn’t there. The spot was dead in his mind.

He snarled, taking a moment to give Paul credit for doing exactly what he said he could do, then the mastermind brought his hand up to his throat, not relishing going out this way but finding it preferable than remaining a captive or assisting the enemy with whatever plans they had set in motion. He stiffened his arm then raked his fingers across his own throat, closing his eyes in the process…

But his fingers slid across his throat with no resistance.

The mastermind looked down at his hand, seeing that he no longer had his claws. They’d been removed, and done so with such finesse that he could see no surgical damage. He simply didn’t have them anymore.

Clever, he thought, glancing around and hoping for a weapon but seeing none and not expecting Paul to have been so careless as to leave one in here with him.

He stretched his body, testing to see if he was restricted in any way by their invisible machinations, then touched his chest, finding the device gone and his movement no longer hindered. He walked up to the cockpit, finding it empty and damaged, with the front of the ship smashed and mostly buried in the ground.

He returned to the small cargo bay, pressing his shoulder into the gap between door and wall, then used his considerable strength to pry it open a bit more, enough for him to crawl out the bottom of and onto the burnt rubble of the outside ground. His thick skin didn’t cut against the abrasion as he crawled out nude through and around several large chunks of debris that had once been lizard buildings, then he finally got out into the open and stood up, looking around to try and see where he was.

The view of the sky overhead showed the tiny specs of warships in orbit, and from the size and position of them he knew they were Star Force. He was on a world under attack, for he could hear distant sounds of weaponsfire, but what world? What system?”

Looking around he sought out something he could use to kill himself with, but then pushed that thought aside. If Paul had returned him to a world already under assault what would be the point? He would die when its defenders fell, and Star Force didn’t need subterfuge in order to take Li’vorkrachnika worlds. If they had wanted to contaminate them with a biological agent they could have done so long ago through a variety of means, and had they wanted to they would have returned him to a fully intact world and let the disease ravage them. Putting him down on a world that was already falling to their assault had no logic in it.

The mastermind walked a ways, trying to find a perch of higher ground, or in this case rubble, where he could get some better visibility. It took him more than an hour to find one, but when he finally climbed up the wall of one building…which was very difficult without claws…he was able to see for several kilometers in all directions.

Not all of the landscape was wrecked. Only select areas that he immediately knew held key structures. The rubble of a shield tower lay behind him, and the ship he had woke in had obviously been crashed into the rubble afterward. How he survived that crash he didn’t know. Maybe it was a plant and not a real crash, but Star Force didn’t hold this region yet. Damaged as it was, it was only softened up for their ground assaults yet to come. He’d seen the routine so many times, and been unable to do anything about it, that he could get a sense for just what stage of damage this city was in and about how much time it had before falling within only a few seconds of visual inspection.

The sound of weaponsfire was coming from a city to the west, and he could see occasional flashes of phasers and the Star Force plasma. None was coming from orbit, which meant that the full ground invasion was present there. Paul hadn’t put him down in a region of safety as he had planned, so what was his purpose in this?

Before he could think on that much he heard a whistle. Not a mechanical one, but one that was used by troops to identify themselves to each other.

He turned in the direction it was coming and saw several standard variant lizards creeping through the rubble in his direction. Conflicted between trying to find a way to kill himself or rejoining the others he hesitated for a moment, then seeing the warships overhead and the inevitability of the oncoming ground assault he figured he would die soon anyway and he might as well use his skills to try and take some of the enemy with him.

The mastermind whistled back and began to climb down, wondering if that was what Paul had intended. Giving him a circumstance where he would be disinclined to find a way to kill himself after the most obvious routes had been denied him. Perhaps he was true to his word about not wanting to kill prisoners and was affording him a death via battle rather than a suicide.

If that was the case then he had made a mistake, for his kin would fight more effectively with his leadership and they would succeed in destroying at least some of his precious, long-living troops…or at the very least some of their mechanized craft. If Paul’s ego was so large he thought returning him here was inconsequential then that was a philosophical contradiction for him.

He finished climbing down as the smaller lizards scrambled to get to him with most of them encircling and forming a perimeter around the most valuable asset they had on the planet. Exchanging glances with them they waited silently for him to give them orders. They did not view him as an enemy or potentially contaminated, though he couldn’t rule out that last possibility completely. He’d need a scientist variant to check him over, but any thought of killing himself was now gone.

If Paul had returned him to this world untainted, then him killing himself would be denying the Li’vorkrachnika on this planet the leadership they needed to hurt Star Force before they were all destroyed, and mistakenly weakening themselves would be a sure sign of the inferiority that he had spoken of. Was he trying to win the argument with him by putting him in this position? If he killed himself he’d be proving the Human right?

Paul’s deviousness had depth, to be sure, so he was going to work this problem from his current situation. His former captivity no longer mattered other than the bits of information he was able to glean from them.

“What world am I on?” he asked the lizards, getting some curious looks that immediately transitioned into obedience.

“Michra,” one of them said.

Michra. Then he was still in the capitol system. Paul hadn’t sent him away after all.

The mastermind looked to the sky, knowing that Paul was up there somewhere. Maybe not in the ships he could see or even around this world, but he was in the system, and the mastermind’s death was all but a certainty now knowing how many enemy ships and troops opposed him.

If this was just a courtesy, one strategist to another, he could grant the Human that.

“Take me to the closest command center,” he told the shorter lizards, who immediately started reforming around him into running lines that would bracket him all the way to his location.

He took off running with them and they matched his pace, which was slower than normal given his stagnant period imprisoned. Adjusting into a stable pace, he moved erratically around the debris as the little lizards guided him where he needed to go further away from the distant, yet all too close Star Force ground troops.

If Paul had meant to return him to the fight, then he was going to do just that and kill as many of his enemies as he could before he finally died. If that was what the Human intended or he had another motive, it no longer mattered. He was back where he belonged and, despite whatever moral victory for them to have averted him killing himself, he now had a much greater purpose that silenced the directive to destroy himself. It no longer applied in this circumstance. His death was no longer a concern.

Killing the enemy was.

10

May 2, 3222

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Michra

The mastermind picked his way over a half destroyed command center, utilizing a few still active display screens because he knew that Star Force had considered this area already destroyed and moved their orbital bombardment further on, meaning it would be safe for him to operate out of for a while until the ground troops got here, and they were a far distance off.

There seemed to be enough equipment still working, but he wanted more and quickly ordered his engineering variants to get to work making repairs and doing what adaptive field modifications were necessary to give him the command and control capability that he needed. They were the smallest Li’vorkrachnika variant, barely 2/3rds the mass of a standard variant, and not produced en mass. Standard variants could handle construction well enough, but the engineers were designed to troubleshoot new technology, weapon designs, or in a case such as this, rework existing equipment and potentially build new items or adaptations on the fly.

With so much rigidity in the Li’vorkrachnika to give them structure and clarity, they needed an addition to increase their adaptability in unforeseeable situations. Standard variants could adapt their existing weapons and tactics to use them in different ways to combat an enemy or overcome a problem, but designing new things was beyond them, hence the engineering variants had been created.

These few went to work with a lot of standard variants helping them to get the broken command center’s functionality increased as the mastermind studied what displays he had available. As predicted, the battles were going poorly and they were unable to inflict losses of personnel on the enemy…but they were causing them a lot of equipment losses and injuries. With their body armor it was very hard to kill them though, and their troops were trained to prioritize saving their wounded rather than pressing advantages against their opponents.

Was that because of illogical concern for their wellbeing or a practical matter? The Human leader Paul had said it was both. That keeping their people alive meant they could grow stronger over the course of years, and the mastermind couldn’t argue the results. The stronger Humans scared him, but he knew their weaker ones were not so impressive. The ones they called Archons marked their skill level with their color of armor, making it easy for him to target them…in theory. The ones they called Commandos and Knights were more difficult to measure, for their armor all the looked the same, but the Archon veterans made for bold targets, and unfortunately that wasn’t resulting in their deaths.

In fact he assumed part of the color scheme was to draw fire towards them and away from weaker troops that would fall more easily…but potentially eliminating those more powerful individuals was too important an opportunity to usually pass up.

The non-Humans were a different matter. Some were weak, some strong, but they all fought in the same manner to try and preserve themselves and their kin. He could use that against them, and had on numerous occasions, but their relative numbers and tech level were so much greater than his here that the best he could do is slow them down and cause them as much frustration as he could as they slowly took this planet from him.

Win or lose, the Li’vorkrachnika always fought. Paul had confirmed this more so than the mastermind’s own information, citing that no lizard had ever surrendered. The Human saw that as ‘limited thinking,’ but the mastermind knew it to be the solid rock upon which their race was based. They fought as one, without exception, and would not yield.

But as the engineers worked he found himself staring at them as his thoughts wandered. They too were known for their thinking skills, and while he did not doubt their loyalty he wondered if they had the genetic restrictions that the Humans had claimed existed.

Checking current situations again and finding them more or less stable in the immediate area, he sent several runners to issue commands that could not be traced nor interfered with by battle damage. At present he only had a tenuous link to his troops in this area, let alone across the third of the planet he still controlled, but maintaining the secrecy of his location was paramount, else he’d find a round of orbital bombardment dropped on his head.

Or would he? Would Paul spare him again if he discovered his location?

The mastermind huffed as he considered the absurdity of that. He had seen no hesitation from the invading army or navy since his return to the planet, and if they could find his command center, or even just him, they’d take him out in order to facilitate the rest of their invasion with less resistance.

But then why had he been returned in the first place?

More than two days later his couriers returned with additional variants in tow. They were librarians and scientists, to which he assigned several tasks, the first of which was for the librarians to brief him on whatever they knew of these genetic restrictions. They were the keepers of knowledge within the Li’vorkrachnika, and if they didn’t know something themselves they would know where to go to find that information.

With adequate computer links established to other parts of the planet they got to work after informing him of no personal knowledge of such things. With them dispersed through his still rubble strewn and increasingly improvised command center, he instructed the scientists to take tissue samples from the engineers, the standard variants, and his own and compare them to the records on file that the librarians would provide and to look for discrepancies.

They took to their tasks without question, leaving him to continue his never ending oversight operations of every Li’vorkrachnika left on this planet, for he was the only mastermind remaining here. There were others on the capitol and one other world that had yet to be killed, but they had their own tasks to attend to and did not communicate with each other unless there was a matter of mutual concern, and never on a direct link in a combat situation where the enemy might trace the transmission to both ends.

Normally there wouldn’t even be two masterminds in the same star system, but this was the capitol and he’d gotten used to the presence of others here, though they never strayed beyond their own dominions that were laid down by the templars. As for the sovereigns, he knew of their existence by rumor only, for all his communication came from templars, who in turn wouldn’t deal with the lesser Li’vorkrachnika unless absolutely necessary. The masterminds were the go betweens, taking care of strategic tasks and insuring that others took care of theirs while the templars attended to foresight and the interconnection of their vast empire.

One couldn’t micromanage across the lightyears, so masterminds would often be placed to oversee a star system, or perhaps manage a small region, but they did not know what was happening elsewhere. The templars did, and that task division had served their race well as they spread out and conquered all in their path.

At least until these Humans had found a way to resist them. And from what Paul had told him and he had verified by asking, there were other small races out there that had defied the Li’vorkrachnika and still lived within their borders. Had he not sought out that knowledge he never would have known, and it made him wonder what else was going on.

Not in a questioning of the templars, but in him having an accurate assessment of the Li’vorkrachnika’s true strength and position in the galaxy. Misjudgement based on inaccurate or incomplete data could be fatal, so he had been digging into their records for a while now to try and confirm or deny things that Paul had told him, but it hadn’t occurred to him until now to check on the assertion that there were controlling genetics placed in all of them.

He knew the standard variants were very regimented, constructed that way to ensure they followed orders and made the most out of their brief lifespans. Other weak races learned by experience rather than genetic memories, and often had to develop for many years after birth. The Li’vorkrachnika did not have that weakness, but if there were constrictions implanted along with those memories in more than just the standard variants it could have a negative side effect.

His own mind was designed to consider all options, to be able to outthink any opponent, and the engineers were likewise so designed, only their opponent was the physical structure of machines and physics itself. If they had restricted thought he needed to know, because he might need to nudge them in some different directions if they truly did have blind spots.

But then that begged the question of whether or not he did. If he had a blind spot would he even notice it?

The Human had said he could, given enough time to think, and the mastermind had never been able to forget that brief snippet of conversation. He hadn’t dwelled on it, but if it wasn’t true he should be able to discover that for a fact and put this matter to rest. If it was true, then he would have to make strategic adjustments to not let the Humans take advantage of such a blind spot.

The information on the genetics came back to him first, though they’d had to access one of the few remaining deposits of information on the planet. Typically those were destroyed by the librarians themselves before an invading assault force could get to them, but there was still a good chunk of this planet that was untouched. The trick was getting a connecting subsurface comm line to those databases. A lot of the orbital bombardment had punched into the substructure across the planet with every anti-orbital battery having been taken out, but the engineers always found ways to make reconnects through other systems and the mastermind knew that when comms went down they wouldn’t stay down for long.

But the protected databases had to deal with potential intrusions from Star Force, who knew their own computer systems very well, no doubt from analyzing captured equipment. Getting past that hurdle had almost required a physical runner, but the librarians on the other end eventually were able to make positive identification of their peers and allowed the data link.

According to the genetic database, which was massive, there were restrictions in place on the minds of the standard variants and heavily so. The engineers were also showing some, but far less. It took some time for the scientist variants to explain several aspects of it to him, but it seemed that with regards to the engineers their constrictions were limited to loyalty programming. That made sense, given the wide range of responsibilities they had and the abundant opportunity for sabotage if they so desired.

And with regards to his own genetics there were none. He’d suspected as much, but why had the Human told him so if it wasn’t true? He could have lied, obviously, but so far every bit of information given to him from Paul had checked out and Star Force’s methods centered on fixing the truth rather than blurring it.

It took several more weeks before he got a full report back from the scientists, who had been delayed by lack of necessary equipment to do the tests. The engineers had either repaired broken pieces or fabricated new ones out of varied components, after which the tests didn’t take long at all.

When he accepted the results from them he saw at a glance the summary.

The standard variants matched perfectly. The other two did not.

The mastermind dug through the minutia of the results, seeing which regions had differences, then asked the scientists many questions regarding those areas before eventually dismissing them back to their original tasks…which in their case were not many given the current state of the planet.

He immediately tasked the librarians to send a runner to one of the intact databases and do a thorough search looking for genetic template updates and the dates to which they occurred and to see if the current samples from himself and the engineers matched any, during which time he had to abandon his command center and relocate to another trashed area to avoid detection from approaching troops.

He traveled almost exclusively below ground where there was a sensor interfering layer built into the lizard infrastructure. The invading ships could scan the surface buildings, but not what lay beneath them until they breached that barrier…in theory. He had been assured it would interfere with their sensors, but without having access to Star Force technology he had no way of knowing for sure how effective it was.

But aside from his admittedly accidental capture, he had always been able to stay at least one step ahead of his enemies, though the available areas to run to were gradually diminishing on this planet and it wasn’t going to be long before he had to make do with much more limited options.

He had many thoughts running through his head, most of which had to do with troop placements, available resources, foodstuff and ordinance factories, and everything else required of his supreme intellect to keep this planet in the fight and hurt the enemy as much as possible, but there was a bit of his mind that kept running through possibilities regarding the genetic programming. Almost like a low priority task, he kept occasionally analyzing it from all possible angles up until he got back the results from the librarians.

There were no positive matches regarding any genetic template, for his variant or the engineers.

Following that discovery, he gave the order for all existing variants to be sampled and compared to templates in the database.

Mage Trevor-153992 was in a forward firebase along with the Bsidd army he was assigned to as they geared up for another assault. He wasn’t in his armor yet, nor were most of the other Archons assigned to him, but the Bsidd mechs were already out and about, some patrolling the distant front perimeter where they had finished busting up two cities the previous week. They were going after another one today on the far side, though the borderlines between cities was almost an arbitrary measurement when the cityscape blanketed the entire planet.

Usually they measured their centers at the anti-orbital guns or other major infrastructure, but in truth the entire subsurface levels made such distinctions nearly pointless. None the less that was how Star Force tended to chop up the planet with regards to purge and hold operations, with Trevor’s army only concerned with the surface and a few subsurface levels. Anything deep would be physically sealed off and another unit would come through later more suited to that deep probing action. His task was to keep any lizard units that deep from coming to the surface and flanking them while they swept the surface ‘cities.’

As was standard before any operation of this size, the commander would signal the lizards offering a surrender. One could argue that it was giving away their intention to attack, but the lizards knew they were coming anyway so it didn’t really matter.

Trevor had his comm officer send a recorded message of his own voice then paid no further attention to it, moving on to other prep tasks as more supplies were being moved in from other locations on the planet and orbit. His Bsidd were burning through a lot of plasma rounds, grenades, and armor, all of which had to be continually resupplied or their conquering march across this planet would grind to a halt real quick.

His troops already had what they needed for this next assault, but the Archons had learned to plan well ahead so as to not get caught with shortages by unexpected turn of events…like dropships suddenly being unable to land.

“Trevor,” the comm officer said, his face with a weird expression despite his alien visage. “We’ve received a reply.”

“To what?” the Archon asked, wondering which request to the fleet he was referring to.

“From the lizards,” the Bsidd Alpha said, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth. “They’re asking what are our terms for surrender.”

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Intellect

1

July 29, 3222

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Michra

“Terms?” Trevor-153992 asked, thinking hard. “Surrender was always unconditional, but it’s never happened before with the lizards. If they’re asking…we can’t blow this chance. Get me a comm line to orbit. This isn’t going to be my decision to make. Especially if it has anything to do with that mastermind they found.”

“Mastermind?” the Bsidd asked.

“Nevermind, just get me the Fury.”

Paul was in the sanctum onboard the Excalibur when an Archon ranger came to find him. The blonde had the nerve to interrupt him during a sparring session with four Knights, but as soon as she told him what was happening and handed him the portable commlink he realized this was more important.

He held the small cylinder in his hand and pressed the activation button…with the training mat he was standing on suddenly overlaid with holograms that showed four of his fellow trailblazers much as he would have seen them if he’d been in the nexus.

“Paul, good,” Greg said, giving him a nod. “I think your outreach effort has paid off. We don’t have an ID on who is asking, but someone on the lizard side is asking what are our terms for surrender.”

“They give up,” Paul said simply.

Taryn cracked a smile. “Me, verbatim.”

“If this your new friend,” Greg continued, “he might want to negotiate something less than that.”

“And you want me to talk to him?”

“We’ve held off responding just yet, but we don’t want to delay any more than necessary with fighting ongoing.”

“How was the question delivered?”

“Comm signal.”

“Any encryption?”

“No,” Trevor answered, his hologram now appearing. He had been listening in to provide intel, but the holographic system prioritized the trailblazers unless someone else spoke. “Just an open comm directed to us.”

“Directed how?”

“A message flag like we instructed our allies to use. I don’t think they wanted us to miss it in all the signal clutter.”

“Text?”

“Yes.”

“Then send this back immediate, also in text. All offensive operations must cease and troops withdrawn immediately. Stand down will be reciprocated and maintained so long as no craft leaves the atmosphere. Li’vorkrachnika commander will then personally confer with Paul in order to establish further parameters of surrender.”

Rio raised an eyebrow. “That’s a cease fire, not terms of surrender.”

“Do you have something in the works here?” Olivia asked.

“I anticipated something like this might happen, so I’m one step ahead of all of you. If he’s thinking what I think he’s thinking, we have to discuss terms personally. If we give them now, he’ll request to negotiate, so this saves some time.”

“And what do you think he’s thinking?”

“I think he’s asking questions and has run out of time. I doubt he’s ready to fully surrender, and I don’t want to back him into a corner with the choice being full capitulation or death.”

“They’re real used to the death thing,” Rio agreed.

“What do you have in mind?” Greg asked.

“There are several possibilities I’ve worked out. It all depends on him.”

“Where do you want to meet him? Not back up here.”

“No, I don’t think he’ll surrender his freedom again. Somewhere on the planet…somewhere that they won’t have booby-traps set up waiting for me,” Paul added, seeing some looks of recognition that this could be a ploy to kill one of them before the planet was wiped out.

“Fine, but I’m going with you,” Greg added. “In Commando armor.”

Oliva looked at him warily. “You really think it’s a trap?”

“My gut says no, but I’d like to be there as backup anyway…incognito, and our armor loudly declares our skill level.”

Trevor’s image appeared again. “Message was sent and we’ve received an immediate response wanting to know the location of the conference.”

“That was fast,” Rio pointed out.

“Tell them that I’ll pick a location and land there,” Paul ordered, “and they’ll be informed when I land, but cessation of the fighting must occur first.”

“I get the feeling you’re about to let us in on a brainstorm,” Olivia wondered.

“Maybe,” Paul acknowledged. “We’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out.”

After a quick shower and a bite to eat, Paul headed down to the surface after transferring over to the Fury, picking up their extra Commando in a detachment of six along with two Archon strikers. The dropship flew down to a section of city that was on the border between lizard-held areas and Star Force-cleansed territory and just on the lizard side.

They received no attacking fire as they landed, and both sides had pulled back from the border as required. Paul had additional Star Force troops within a few kilometers of his chosen position if needed, as well as having skeets in the air near that area that could be at his position within a minute.

The dropship landed on a rooftop and the strikers and Commandos quickly secured it and several levels down. When they finally got to the few lizard denizens there, they mentally shooed them out of the building. At first they didn’t move, but apparently received orders at some point later for they all began vacating the location at once. It took another 3 hours before a few lizard minds showed up at the very bottom of the building and began making their way up through the levels, with Paul immediately recognizing the formidable intellect of the mastermind as it shown like a beacon amongst the much duller lights of the other lizard minds.

“He’s here,” Paul said for the sake of the others. “I’ll meet him four levels down. Pull back to there.”

The trailblazer abandoned the roof and the dropship, then waited where he wanted as the lizard contingent slowly ascended through the building. Rather than waiting in a room, Paul was leaning against a wall in the hallway as the first few standard variant lizards came up their stairwell and into sight. They visibly flinched when they saw him, but held their fire as they trained their small rifles on his bright pink armor, knowing that they couldn’t do much to stop him if he wanted to kill them, but they’d do their duty regardless of the outcome.

A handful more came up, then the much larger mastermind appeared, dwarfing his smaller guards. A mental prompting by Paul brought him forward as the enemy commander motioned for the other lizards to wait a few steps behind him. Likewise Paul waved a hand at the two Commandos with him to give them some space and they retreated a few meters back while the others were stationed around the perimeter looking for lurking threats.

Paul retracted his helmet but kept his shields up, though they were invisible save when something struck them. “Been doing some thinking?”

“You sent me here for just that,” he said, raising a hand up and brandishing his new claws. “I owe you for that.”

Paul knew he was being genuine, though his words could have been taken to mean it as a vendetta. “And?”

“What are your terms?”

“Normally we go with unconditional surrender, but word has kind of gotten around of what we do and don’t do, so when some people surrender to us they already have a vague sense of terms. In your case, I’m guessing you have a proposal for me?”

“We must maintain this planet.”

“Agreed,” Paul said without hesitation, which caused a flinch by the mastermind.

“You anticipated this?”

“I have an estimate of facilities still intact, but I do not know the full extent of your subsurface holdings nor the output of all your assets given your uncertain population. What is the current status of your foodstuff production?”

“Low staffed, but adequate for current demands. We are operating off of reserves in many areas.”

“How much excess production do you have?”

“None. We are operating below necessity.”

“Anticipating losses?”

“They are inevitable, so why keep workers in the factories when they can be fighting you?”

“What’s your current population? This world only.”

“I only control this world. I do not have an accurate count, but estimates are in excess of 800 billion.”

“And if your current facilities were fully staffed, how many could they sustain without expectation of losses?”

“2.2 trillion.”

“I need you to cease producing additional personnel, save for specialists as needed.”

“You want to reprogram our genetic code?”

Paul shook his head. “No. If we wanted to add the Li’vorkrachnika to our empire we could have done so long ago. We’ve had access to your genetic nodules for some time, but we’ve never grown any of your people. Doing so would do nothing for the rest of you, therefore there was no advantage in our doing so. Once you are grown, the genetic locks cannot be undone.”

“Experiential development?”

“Exactly.”

“And I am an anomaly?”

“You have the ability to work around your existing blocks. Even if they were removed on the others they would still obey the memory of them.”

“I fear it would be far worse. I speculate that genetic coding is what is binding them all to my command. Without it they would most likely kill each other.”

“That is a possibility I’ve considered.”

“If you do not want us to produce additional population, and you do not want to alter our genetic code, then are we to exist here until we wither away?”

Paul frowned at him. “After all this time, you surely have enough information about us to know the answer to that.”

“What good is training for them if they can’t overcome their blocks?”

“They still follow your command, correct?”

“They would have a difficult time finding a way not to. You mean to make this a functioning prison world…to what end?”

“The simple reason is so we won’t have to kill the rest of you to claim this planet. That will also save us time and resources, but that’s not really the point.”

“If we cannot produce more population, and they cannot train and grow as you do, then this planet will be rid of us eventually.”

“No,” Paul said, sensing that he wasn’t going to agree to that. “I am not planning on being rid of you.”

“Then tell me what I am missing…or is that something my mind is blocked from seeing?”

“You confirmed it?”

“Some of our genetic coding differs from what is recorded in the databases. The templars lied to us, though I do not know for what purpose, specifically.”

“You exist to serve them, yet there has been a betrayal of trust and you are presently in internal conflict. Without a purpose here, the deaths of your people are meaningless and you seek to put an end to it…while you search for internal resolution.”

“Your being able to read my mind saves considerable time and effort communicating.”

“As to the question of training, full knowledge is not required to attain self-sufficiency. You feed yourself workouts and your body and mind digest them. So long as you are getting what you need, it can be achieved via orders, though aspects that require internal modification will suffer. I believe you can restructure your civilization to include this, and at the minimum give those currently alive time to achieve what they lack. I intend to give everyone here the ability to persist indefinitely, though I have no illusions of it being a given. I will not be handling their training, therefore my confidence in the outcome is considerably less.”

“I will need to learn before I can develop what they require to…persist.”

“I will send you the necessary information. I trust you will be able to figure it out without a personal teacher. You’ll also have to make adaptations for your various physiologies, but the basic principle remains the same for all races.”

“And if we are able to persist?”

“You will have the time to ponder the riddle of the templars.”

“Do you know?”

“No, unfortunately. We’ve never had access to them or their records.”

“I checked this world, and all of their resources were destroyed prior to leaving. Nothing of value remains.”

“What is the purpose of your civilization?” Paul asked again, picking up on their previous discussions.

“I now have cause to wonder. I have a predilection to build, defend, and grow in order to facilitate the purpose of our civilization. I am given assignments and therein lies my personal purpose. The overall mandate is unclear, but from experience it appears to be based on galactic conquest. That should not require instituting blocks on myself and others of sufficient intellect. We would naturally come to the logical conclusions and no mental constriction would be required…thus I am considering the possibility that the templars’ true purpose is not logical, and if we knew of it or discovered it we might choose not to comply.”

“What specifically do you know of the sovereigns?”

“That you haven’t already plucked from my mind?”

“We found nothing.”

“Because I know nothing. I have never encountered one personally, nor had any communication from them. They are of the same breed as the templars, but augmented in some way…though how I know that is also in question. It’s from genetic memory only, and I can’t assume that anything is correct without experiential verification.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you, picking apart your civilization and finding out what is and is not true.”

“Unfortunately no. I know virtually all of that which is on this planet. It is the pieces that I do not know that were purged.”

“If your coding was a lie, how can you be sure of anything else here?”

“Because I have been dealing with my resources for a long time. Spotting a blind spot in my own mind is difficult. Finding discrepancies in others is not. There are a few things I need to explore, but my grasp of my own people is solid. It is in variations that there is a question mark. Therefore I must undertake such things gradually.”

A dark image clouded Paul’s mind. “That sort of experimentation will not be allowed.”

“Define what parameters you require and I will abide by them.”

“Your intellect will allow you to manage the inefficiencies?” Paul said, acknowledging the thought he was eavesdropping on.

“Yes. I also know that I will be unable to hide certain things from you, and doing so will cause you to take action that I will not like. You know that I will keep my word because it is necessary, therefore you will not have to maintain close surveillance. I do not pretend to understand all of your ways, but provide sufficient boundaries and I will enact them.”

“While you evaluate them?”

“If you are incorrect, then we will have issue later.”

“No worries there,” Paul scoffed.

“That is what I am trusting on. I will not able to affect the homeworld.”

“I’m not expecting you to. If we manage to capture some of their people, will they take orders from you?”

The mastermind considered that. “They will unless otherwise ordered to do so. If my surrender here is known, all it would take is a single command and they would die rather than accept me.”

“If they don’t personally see you, how will they know whom the orders come from?”

“There will be a conflict in markers, save for starships and other forms of remote communication, up until there is a rotation of crews.”

“Markers?” Paul asked, sensing something new.

“You did not already learn this?”

“Apparently not. We must have missed it.”

“You did not know this long ago? It is the basis of our entire command structure.”

“Explain it to me.”

“I can issue some basic parameters to those I command through genetic markers. They can be transmitted via touch or air, but they must be voluntarily accepted. They will impart new genetic knowledge, and if I am deemed a traitor by the other masterminds and they encode that knowledge, my markers will never be accepted. Typically there is not a sharing of personnel, so one individual will contain only one marker throughout their life. In the case of transfers of resources a new marker will replace the old if accepted.”

“And worlds without a mastermind?”

“If they are not under my command, then they will exist without a marker. Typically these are low populations and scouts and are expected to operate without my command because their tasks are small and simple.”

Paul thought fast, finding a big hitch in his plans. “Do the others know yet?”

“The stand down might have been noticed. My message to you was sent by a means that another world could not intercept.”

“Any chance of leaks from this one?”

“None. My command here is absolute.”

“And if a templar showed up?” Paul asked hypothetically.

“They give us commands and we carry them out. They do not possess a marker…that I am aware of. I cannot promise that they do not have a way of neutralizing mine.”

“If I brought you some captives that did not receive orders to ignore your command, would they accept the transfer?”

“They will, so long as they do not suspect subterfuge on your part, otherwise they may kill themselves before I can assert command.”

“What kind of information does your marker grant?”

“Temporary upgrades before new personnel can be grown. Tactical adjustments when fighting a new enemy or when a new weapon system is developed. It is customary to send messengers to every ship and world in my command to spread the marker.”

“It is produced by each individual?”

“Replicated, yes.”

A virus, Paul realized. Humans had many viruses that affected them, but most of the negative ones were simply malfunctions in a genetic sharing program of their own. People once thought genetic information was passed from Human to Human via reproduction alone, and it wasn’t until Davis had gained access to the V’kit’no’sat database did they realize it was actually a way to interlink individuals and allow them to spread operational genetics between those living in proximity to each other.

Viral illnesses were malfunctions, often caused when one individual had something wrong with them and then passed it on to another. The positive sharings were almost never noticed, but omnipresent…which was why people who lived together often began to mesh into an equilibrium. If you had a bad grouping, it’d drag you down. If you had a good grouping, it’d pull you up. But in this case, it looked like the lizards used something similar in a much larger and more specific case.

Memory transfer.

2

“I really don’t know how we missed that,” Paul said, intending to send some not so nice messages to the medtechs on Earth. Somehow even Nefron had missed that.

“Why would you know?”

“We have some very good genetics experts…supposedly.”

“It’s not present in any of their genomes. Only mine.”

“But we still should have discovered it when examining corpses…” Paul said, immediately realizing why they hadn’t.

“You studied our scouts,” the mastermind surmised. “Then didn’t bother to examine the others because you thought they were identical. Such things have been so designed.”

“Clever,” Paul admitted. “If a messenger was sent here from another mastermind, how would command be clarified?”

“We do not interfere with one another, so unless they have priority orders they obey whichever one of us is present.”

“Can those on your homeworld monitor events here?”

“To some extent.”

“How difficult will it be to shut them out?”

“You don’t want them to suspect a surrender.”

“I don’t want them coding their troops to block you out. I’d prefer not to have to kill them all.”

“That will depend on how soon you plan to invade. If your assaults stall here they will notice even if the data links are severed.”

“We still have ongoing assaults on three worlds and the shipyard ring around Yamitar. If you sent a messenger to those on the ring, could you assert command?”

“Possibly. But they would know immediately when orders were no longer followed. They would undoubtedly recode all following that. Those on the ring would not fully be converted in time.”

“And if we severed the ground access first?”

“You would lose any hope of converting those on the planet.”

Paul glanced down for a moment, staring at the alien floor as he thought. “If they see us capturing and hauling away individuals that are then shipped to this world, what will they assume is happening?”

“They will assume you have plans for them, but they will not suspect my involvement. We are loyal without exception. Apparently the blocks ensure this, and will provide a window of opportunity for you to exploit. But if they have data to suggest a transfer of markers is occurring, they will know immediately.”

“What of the possibility that we could have detected and manufactured the markers ourselves?”

“The result would be the same. We do not assume control over each other’s forces when the others are present. Whether it be by a rebel or an enemy, both must be countered in the same manner.”

“Killed?”

“Yes. They will not betray their marker, and therefore must be destroyed.”

“No,” Paul said firmly, knowing what he was thinking. “I’m not weaponizing your marker, but out of curiosity, what would your people do if deemed needed for eradication?”

“They would defend themselves and the true orders they have been given until informed otherwise. Were your troops not so difficult to kill, I would argue it would be a necessary tactic.”

“And you would have no qualms about that?”

“It would not be my decision, for as you said, you could manufacture it.”

“I was speaking theoretically. You won’t assist me with that anyway.”

“No.”

“But you will help me retrieve those on the ring?”

“You will simply kill them anyway. I can put them to use here.”

“Do you have any living food sources here?”

“No. All such things were imported.”

“Do you eat each other?”

“We die at the hands of the enemy or based on necessity. We would only do so out of necessity.”

“And they’d kill themselves?”

“You persist in asking me questions you already know the answer to.”

“Seeking clarification. If you pour your efforts into foodstuff production, how rapidly can you expand current facilities on this planet?”

“Faster than we can grow new population.”

“We will withdraw from this world save for a few temporary bases, then establish starports in orbit. We will stay above the atmosphere and you within it, though we will not hesitate to come down here if needed. You are to rebuild and retool your infrastructure to support massive levels of immigration. You are not to produce starships or interstellar communications.”

The mastermind looked at him coolly for a moment. “Shall I be remaining here constantly?”

“No,” Paul said, respect for the speed that his mind worked. “Once this system is secured you will travel to other worlds without masterminds and assume control of them. They will then be evacuated back here. We’ll get you jumpships to use, so your people don’t kill themselves in our custody. That fleet you will be permitted to maintain for that purpose, though we will escort you at all times.”

“Can I collect resources from those other worlds?”

“So long as you agree to not compromise the databanks during the evacuation.”

“And what will you do with the worlds that are under control of masterminds?”

“The same as we have already been doing.”

“You aren’t going to try to capture and convert any of them?”

“Are two of you necessary?”

“For a single world? No.”

“Why are so many of you here?”

“The templars wished it so. I am capable of running a system of this size and density solo, but they deemed otherwise. I do not know why.”

“Are there any records on Yamitar that would be useful recovering?”

“Most likely they are already destroyed, but you now know where to look,” he said, knowing that Paul would see the locations within his mind as soon as he asked the question and they came to the forefront. The mastermind did not try to cloud his thoughts, but Paul also knew he would not assist him willingly in the assault to destroy his kin.

Talking about and advising him to what was already known between them was one thing, but had he the ability to resist Paul’s telepathy he would have. The Archon had him at a serious disadvantage, to which the mastermind had decided the best course to proceed would be one of simple honesty. That did not make him an ally, and they both recognized that, but for the moment, at least, he was not the enemy that Paul had lived most of his life fighting. He was…undetermined, in his own mind.

This lizard wasn’t sure what to do, but knew he didn’t have the luxury of waiting without taking action else he’d be destroyed, so he was playing the angles and knew that Paul wanted to deal, and even as Paul was explaining bits and pieces of his plans to him, he sensed the mastermind deducing the rest and seeing that it worked for him as well.

“This shipyard ring will be off limits, but you will begin repairs on the base so we won’t have to overcompensate with orbital engines to keep it aloft.”

“What other tribute do you require?”

“None at this time. Your first priority is to enlarge your capacity to receive additional population and maintain them.”

“Have you negated all interstellar transmitters within the system?”

“We’ve already bombarded Yamitar and eliminated all obvious means of communication. Are there others?”

“Courier ships must not be allowed to leave. And if the homeworld discovers what you have planned, they will attempt to build a new transmitter hidden beneath the surface in order to alert other systems so they may prepare markers to block my own.”

Paul smirked. “No signals are going out from this system. We’ve got all the linkages blocked.”

“How so?”

“Cancellation nets sitting on line of sight to the nearest Li’vorkrachnika systems. This system has been dark for some time now, unless you have hidden receivers elsewhere?”

“You know that we do not. They are too big to easily hide. So the neighboring systems have not fallen since your arrival here?”

“Your big ones haven’t, no. We’ll get to them after we finish here.”

“And where are these nets located?”

“Far enough out in the system that they can block the signals from multiple planets. They are sensor stealthed so you cannot detect them.”

“A useful technology.”

“Expensive, but occasionally useful. Are there any other prison facilities in this system besides on Hemratik?”

“That facility was unique. I do not know if the templars constructed others elsewhere, but there is nothing like that on this world.”

“Where are your research facilities?” Paul asked, knowing that they hadn’t plucked anything from his mind in that regard during their telepathic interrogations.

“Not here. Updates have arrived from beyond this system, but the system or systems where the advanced research is being conducted were not revealed to me.”

“Faster than normal?” Paul said, picking up on a stray thought.

“Our rate of progress has increased considerably. It is possible we have recovered technology from a conquered race, but I do not know of any that could account for the advances we have seen in recent centuries.”

“That research center has probably been moved towards the core?”

“Most likely. Why have you not pressed your attack in that direction?”

“Priorities. And you guys expand so damn fast.”

“But you allow us on your doorstep. I would not do that.”

“There are other factors to consider unknown to you.”

“A treaty with the Skarrons?”

Paul laughed. “Oh, they hate us as much as you do. We’d never negotiate with them.”

“Yet you negotiate with me?”

“The templars made a tactical mistake…they made you too smart. Such intellect cannot be fully contained and controlled. It allows us to have a bit of common ground on which to negotiate.”

“And you have leverage.”

“Not over someone who has no qualms about killing themselves. You would not be here if you did not choose to be.”

“True. How do you plan on transporting those on the ring to this world?”

“Your command won’t allow them to travel on our ships?”

“They are ingrained to seeing you as the enemy,” he said, gesturing to those behind him. “Even these have a hard time not firing on you. If not for my presence, they would be seriously conflicted. It will take time and experience for them to learn otherwise. My marker can only do so much.”

“Very well. I’ll figure something out. How long does it take for you to alter your own marker?”

“A matter of minutes, but it requires extreme meditation. For security reasons the scientists are not allowed to know the specifics of it so that no tampering can occur.”

“If they are trustworthy, why the precaution?”

The mastermind considered that. “In the past I would not have considered that. The defense is sound, but against what threat it was meant to guard has never occurred to me. Now I’m beginning to theorize the templars were guarding against a revolt. Why such a thing would occur I do not know, but there are many small safeguards in place, and I cannot ascertain another reason for them.”

“Give it time,” Paul cautioned. “And as of now, you have plenty of it…”

9 months later…

Eight lizard jumpships rushed in past the Star Force defense fleet arrayed around part of the shipyard ring at Yamitar and did not attract an intercept. They decelerated near a section of the ring that had had its defenses stripped but otherwise was still under lizard control. One of those jumpships was further ahead of the others and carefully maneuvered its massive bulk over the even larger ring and nestled itself down into a groove that was meant to be a massive docking port designed to save the time and effort of kirby and larger craft making cargo transfers by allowing direct access to the ring.

The jumpship settled in closely, then proximity triggers activated and thousands of short range tractor beams latched on and held it in place a few meters away from making physical contact. A number of retractable umbilicals rose up and mated with the jumpship’s hull, allowing a few dozen crew members from the ship onto the station.

When those librarian variants boarded they met a reception committee that was thoroughly confused as to their presence and waiting along with a mass of soldiers to repel boarders that might be onboard the lizard ship that unwittingly got past the enemy defenses, but as soon as it was known that these were emissaries physical contact was made via a rubbing of arms that allowed a quick passing of the markers they carried. It took a few minutes to take effect, but the emissaries were already being escorted to various portions of the ring by that time, for the protocol in such matters was well known and there was to be no delays.

When the marker did kick in the lizards had a short set of memories and orders given to them…

They were to defend the ring where the incoming ships were docking and ensure that the evacuation of the ring was not interfered with by the invading forces. Everyone on the station was to sever links with the planet and evacuate immediately. Those on the planet could not be saved and would slow down the invaders as much as possible before their eventual deaths, but those on the ring were needed elsewhere and had a short window of opportunity to evacuate.

With those orders in place the lizards did as they normally would…they carried them out, including ignoring all further attempts at communication from the planet below that would eventually start incoming as the mastermind that was being deposed noticed his troops moving in odd fashions. He’d make other comm calls, locating still loyal troops on the ring that did not know what was going on, but slowly even those would fall silent as the offworld mastermind marker confiscated them as well.

By the time the planetbound mastermind sent physical runners up the ring’s lift columns along with the flow of reinforcements the ring was completely black, save for automated sensors that hadn’t been blinded. He could see the evacuation taking place, but the ships in orbit weren’t responding to his comms either. Their path could be traced to the star easily enough, but they were circling around it to the far side then disappearing, though there were also two other convoys of jumpships inexplicably passing through the enemy fleet and arriving at other planets.

Eventually one of his runners with portable comm equipment made it up and reported back in a short burst transmission what was happening, detailing that their own troops were now screening those incoming to the ring and passing on a new marker.

The mastermind on the surface did the only thing he could do…alter his own marker and begin sending up troops to retake the ring, fighting their own corrupted ones if needed, though he didn’t know for sure what the source of the contamination was.

Soon after the first batch of the ‘inoculated’ troops went up, the lift systems were shut down and his command of the ring was completely gone.

Week after week went by with the jumpships now abandoning their ruse and only traveling directly from Yamitar to Michra and back again. There were hundreds of them, captured from other campaigns and some from the battle in this system, those still heavily damaged but patched up enough for the surrendered lizards to use for the short haul from planet to planet.

They were allowed docking and repair work on the ring orbiting Michra, then were shipping the incoming lizards down the single attaching column that had been hastily repaired into minimal functionality. The structural supports were the bare minimum to allow lift connection, with the orbital gravity drives still having to support most of the column’s weight as repair work on the heavy frame pieces still continued with many factories having to be built anew in order to fabricate the huge structural segments.

The lizards packed into each jumpship, still unsure what the orbital conditions were and not knowing that there was now a cease fire on Michra. They wouldn’t know that even after they landed, simply being incorporated into the mastermind’s legions and put to work immediately. Word eventually got around that the planet was no longer under assault and that some deal had been made to keep the enemy off what was left of it, but that only made sense. If this world was now a safe haven, then pulling as many of them off Yamitar before it fell was necessary.

There were no defectors from the cause, for it had been bred into them and subsequent marker updates insured they were following the mastermind’s orders and imperative that this world be repaired as quickly as possible. They would not be getting imports of raw materials and this world’s natural resources had all but been expended, so they would be mining the destroyed cities and repurposing the rubble for what they needed. No lizard was allowed to leave the atmosphere, and no enemy was to be fired upon if they came down to the surface unless they were given specific orders to do so. Even if the enemy attacked them they were not to return fire, merely retreat from whatever location and await orders.

That was the only way their sanctuary would be maintained, and once that order was given the entire planet was of a single mind. Those in orbit were still their enemy, but they would not fire on them. Rather they would work long and hard to carry out the mastermind’s orders and trust that he knew what he was doing…which was evident to all since he had somehow found a way to stop the enemy from conquering this world.

And when the decree later came to prepare for many more arrivals, that too only made sense, and the construction of new facilities followed the demolition and conversion of others. Weapons batteries were not rebuilt, nor were shield generators. Every available resource was poured into the recycling industry and foodstuff production. A massive building surge was underway, and inherent within those orders was the understanding that this world could not defend itself militarily, hence they were not going to waste resources trying. The mission was construction, pure and simple, and though they did not understand the greater context of the situation they were fully committed to the tasks given to them.

For it was normal for them not to understand. It wasn’t their place to understand. So long as their organization structure was in place and they had a task before them, all was well and right, and they’d aid their civilization’s rise in whatever manner was required of them.

3

December 11, 3223

Gorignak System (Calavari Region)

Grimm

“It is time.”

Brendan Niles turned to look at the Kvash that had just walked into the medical chamber they’d built to facilitate the 13,829 survivors they’d pulled out of the lizard prison planet. Sadly, some 1,833 of them were no longer alive, having expired over the past 2 decades due to a variety of causes, most of which was due to ignorance. As much as Star Force was trying to teach them, these people had lived as trophies in a display case their entire lives and that was a huge disadvantage for them to overcome, but there was a staff of over 20,000 Humans and others here to give them every chance possible to pull out of that deficit.

As it was, most of them hadn’t learned enough English to communicate effectively with, so for medical issues Brendan always used the translational software in his soft envirosuit, which was the only thing allowing him to function in the 165F temperature inside the Kvash facility.

“Come over here,” the medtech said, gesturing the walking pile of rocks towards a low table.

It walked over and sat down on the edge and Brendan walked around the other side and reached across to the bulge on its back.

“Ready when you are,” the Human said, seeing the exoskeleton split apart over the hump revealing several small rocks inside. When the air hit them they vibrated…a Kvash shiver in the ‘cold’ air compared to the internal temperatures they sported, and within a few seconds one of them detached and fell into Brendan’s ready hands.

He took the lumpy rock and set it into a nearby bin that held a nutrient bath that halfway covered it, as well as having heat lamps around the perimeter to increase the temperature even further. Quickly he returned to catch the next two, then finished off with the last two, making five little rocks in total all sitting in individual nutrient baths.

“You had five,” he told the Kvash. “They’re out now.”

The exoskeleton sealed back up, adjusting its shape in a way that true rock never could, and reforming to the Kvash’s normal dimensions.

“Are they well?”

Brendan glanced at the status displays over each rock, seeing that the infant Kvash were reading within standard variations.

“They are well. Thank you.”

“Make sure they live free,” the Kvash insisted, looking up at the medtech with its two red, jewel-like eyes.

“They will, and I haven’t given up on you yet.”

“My time grows short. I can feel it. But I have no regrets. I have lived to taste freedom.”

“That’s quitter talk,” Brendan said, handing it a nutrient patch. “You’re still here, so keep trying.”

“I will, but I am losing ground,” the Kvash said, applying the patch to its skin, which was how it absorbed all things, given that it had no mouth or air passages.

“You have given us five more Kvash. You have accomplished that goal. Now turn your full attention on your training.”

“As you wish. My back hurts now.”

The medtech nodded. “The splitting of the exoskeleton has bothered others. It should pass within a few days. The supplement I gave you also has a numbing effect, so the pain should subside soon.”

“I never knew I could open it. I never knew I had it before I chose to spawn.”

“Apparently it’s a selective muscle control. When it’s not needed the control pathways from your mind are severed so you cannot open it and a sealant is applied to keep it firm. Only recently has your body begun producing an anti-sealant to loosen it. You should start returning to normal now.”

The Kvash walked around the table to look at the young Kvash, barely more than a single mass with no arms, head, or legs yet formed. “They do not look like me.”

“The contact with the air will trigger a transformation. You wouldn’t want them growing arms and legs while still inside you. It’ll take about a month and a half, then they’ll be walking around.”

“Is there anything else required of me?”

“No. You’re all done. Thank you.”

“It was the only thing I could do to repay you. I have no other skills.”

“Yet.”

“I will try,” it promised, then turned around and walked off, now considerably lighter.

Brendan turned his attention back to the younglings, checking the sensor monitors again to make sure they were acclimatizing well enough. There hadn’t been a lot of Kvash spawned in Star Force to learn from, but they’d been getting a steady trickle in over the last 16 years and thankfully they usually came in bunches between 3 and 9. The Kvash were asexual, meaning they didn’t require a partner to procreate, and could do so whenever various internal conditions were met.

But they never knew how many of their own young they were carrying until they detached, and often there wasn’t even much time to figure out given that they grew to size within a handful of weeks depending on available foodstuffs. Let them gorge themselves and some younglings would develop in a matter of days, which is what had occurred in this case. The Kvash had gone into a separate part of the facility where they did nothing but eat and sleep with a little maintenance movement thrown in.

Unlike other races, their ‘birthing’ was quite simple and produced younglings that were essentially in egg form, only their bodies were the eggs rather than an exterior shell that would be shed.

Brendan added a few supplements to the nutrient baths depending on what the exact readings were for each then sealed them into their transport pods and sent them through the wall on a railway-like track to a processing center in normal Human temperatures. There they were taken to a nearby pod car by two other medtechs that zipped out of the Kvash facility and into daylight on the massive world that had been given to them.

Sporting a gravity of 2.1, Grimm had an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere but was devoid of all life, looking as rocky as the Kvash did save for the scattering of Star Force installations now sprinkling the surface. The pod car had artificial gravity, as did all the facilities, so as they continued to accelerate the landscape whipped by without them feeling the gravitational crunch. They traveled several hundred miles until they arrived at another Star Force facility separate from the one where the transitional Kvash were housed and being painstakingly cared for in order to maximize their chances of indoctrination into the empire, but it was common knowledge that most people did not think even a dozen of them would make it, though the staff wasn’t giving up on any of them.

At the same time the Kvash race was being reborn via the younglings, and the small maturias where these five were going already had full grown Kvash that were about halfway through their training. Star Force was having to learn what Kvash needed in terms of a maturia program, but it was a lot easier to adjust existing ones to them rather than try to write a fully original one. As each class progressed from one level to another tweaks would be made, some by the onsite staff, some by Paul who was overseeing the program from a distance, but they were making rapid progress and plans to build a full-fledged colony were already in the works and construction efforts had begun 2 years ago in order that they be ready when the first classes of younglings graduated.

Because of their environmental needs the Kvash were not going to be able to integrate into Axius or other factions, though Paul had already developed a heat suit that would function to keep their internal temperatures up enough for them to work in Human-level temperatures. It wasn’t ideal, but if someone needed to go somewhere else they could, with effort, acclimate themselves to the much colder climates.

That would be a pain in the ass, so it was assumed that most Kvash would be keeping to their own colonies and be more of a separate faction than any others to date, though Archons and others would live in small pockets of their own temperature within the Kvash facilities while they oversaw them…and their battle armor was much better equipped to allow them to work in Kvash temperatures than the reverse.

The five younglings being brought over by pod car were delivered to another set of handlers that brought them into a maturia chamber set aside for those born within a 4 month period to keep them all at about the same development level. There were currently 56 in this class, with another 3 weeks left to include others. If they had less or more than 100 they’d put them all into the same group because they didn’t want to have a class of 15 or so. When dealing with large populations they’d always hit that 100 number, but with so few being spawned now they usually didn’t have that luxury and had to fudge a bit to keep the groups together without having a few individuals being much older or younger than the others.

And with less Kvash surviving there were less available to reproduce, so the problem wasn’t going to solve itself soon. In another 15-20 years the new ones would be able to start making up for that lack of numbers, if they chose, and so long as they were fit there were ways to goose the reproductive cycles along so they could pump out a lot of them…but it had already been decided that wasn’t going to be requested. These new Kvash needed to focus on their training and individual development rather than immediately becoming youngling factories, though they weren’t going to argue with any that decided they wanted to go that route to help grow the population.

The five newest younglings were carried in their pods into another heated facility where they were transferred into slightly larger pens in which the liquid was only a few inches deep and would allow a part of their bodies to be exposed to the air so they didn’t suffocate. The more of the body was exposed the easier it was to breathe, but the Kvash could also store up large amounts of gasses internally to supplement their foodstuffs. That said, they did not actually respire, meaning that the intake of gasses through absorption was not required.

They could utilize oxygen, but it was seen as a secondary and less appealing fuel. Their preferred atmosphere was argon/nitrogen, meaning that this planet was not the best choice for them if they were to go out into the open air, but argon/nitrogen mixes were rare finds and the size of this planet made it more valuable than looking for a strict atmospheric match.

The air inside the Kvash facilities was argon/nitrogen but with some 20% oxygen added so that Archons and other staff could breathe without having to use tanks. Their armor would filter it through and chill it down to useable levels, and that was to become standard in all the new Kvash facilities. So long as they had their argon they’d be happy, with the oxygen added being only a mild ‘flavor’ difference.

The younglings were dunked into the liquid and left to sit under the watchful eyes of the sensor packages built into their containers, with them soaking in the nutrient mixes that literally had to be replenished at a regular rate else they’d soak them all up. Over the coming days some of the tiny nubs on the Kvash protoforms would began to lengthen and would become the stubs of arms and legs. Those would continue to develop to the point where they were sessile chunks of rock that slowly added a head.

That head was actually internal material being raised up beyond the central ‘egg’ as new internal organs were added. The flat top of their head was actually the original surface that rose up with it, and once it reached full height the Kvash youngling would suddenly become mobile and start learning how to crawl around. They’d stand erect within another 7 hours then advance rapidly to the point where they were a good 10 inches tall and needed to be transferred to the next stage of their development.

That took them about 20 meters down the hallway to communal pens that had handlers watching them round the clock. The Kvash younglings were able to bump into each other for a few hours each day then they were taken and individually ran through very basic drills, most of which was a very short obstacle course that would begin to ingrain a sense of repetition and completion. Teaching them to accomplish tasks before they could even speak.

They’d be returned to a shallow individual pool to ‘sleep,’ then the days would repeat with them gradually growing larger and larger. After about 2 years they would reach their full height, with their heads coming up to about shoulder level on a Human, but it would take another year before they learned basic speech, which for them was accomplished via some narrow slits under the chin that allowed them to vibrate the air enough to speak without having any lungs or internal airways.

When they did learn to speak the more typical maturia process would begin, alternating from study to training to eating…which for the Kvash was a very different thing. Their absorption rate was far slower than a Human eating a plate of food, meaning they had to soak in nutrient baths for several hours per day, which also doubled as their sleep period. That meant their food supply was totally different from what the rest of Star Force ate.

The bioharvest facilities that were being created would be growing different types of plants to get the raw nutrients the Kvash required, then they’d be ground up, processed, and dissolved to be fed through absorption in their personal quarters…meaning there were no Kvash cafeterias.

The five Kvash that entered that maturia would be there for some 20-30 years depending on their advancement rate, then would graduate into the new Kvash colony that was still in its infancy.

The various divisions within the new faction were barely developing, but by the time these got there they’d already have a naval training program with a few dozen initiates being trained and tested for Paul to determine their strengths and weaknesses via endless simulations. It would be decades more before they produced their own warships, but the Kvash were not a ward or subfaction. They were granted full faction status, meaning they were going to have to develop everything, including aquatics, whereas a subfaction like the Elarioni could specialize where their natural talents lay.

A faction had to do it all, and while the Kvash were going to be focusing heavily on naval they were going to have to have all military, civilian, and industrial aspects included. They had once been a massive civilization and it was going to take an enormously long time to even get back a sliver of what they’d once had, but these were going to be Star Force Kvash, meaning they’d be a lot more powerful than their forbearers, not to mention they’d have Archon leadership and the backing of the entire empire if so needed.

Set apart from the rest of Star Force due to their temperature demands, they were not isolated. Paul made sure to keep lots of non-Kvash staff within the faction to work with them and keep the bonds between them strong. Unity was one of the key factors that Star Force operated on, and pushing the Kvash into a little corner of the empire and keeping them separate was the exact opposite of what was needed. They could travel anywhere within the empire if they wanted to suffer the hassle of the heat suits, and that option meant that those that stayed within the tiny faction did so willingly.

That meant pride and loyalty to their faction rather than resentment, and the presence of non-Kvash there also stated that this was not a secondary environment. Especially when Paul occasionally came to visit and spent a few minutes with them outside his armor. His odd body usually glowed with an energy that protected him, and those little moments overawed the Kvash more than anyone realized. The trailblazer might not be with them much, but those short contacts and his orders from afar told them that he was always looking after and guiding their progress. Much as the Kiritas gravitated to revering Randy for having saved them, the Kvash looked to Paul as the one responsible for building their faction.

They were different circumstances, but the loyalty was the same, and in some ways ran deeper for the Kvash given how ostracized they were due to the temperature differences. Paul coming into their natural environment, even briefly, was something that no one else had done before without having that artificial armor between them.

And when Paul asked for something, they answered…with him keeping them constantly training and building. He had a sneaking feeling of how powerful these guys could become in time and wanted to get them there as fast as possible given the centuries of growth the other factions had on them. The gap wouldn’t be closed quickly, but he wasn’t going to let the Kvash be satisfied with anything less than peerdom with the other factions…and that peerdom had to be earned.

4

July 29, 3229

Krachnika System (lizard capitol/homeworld)

Yamitar

“Well, it’s done,” Greg said as he hopped over a fallen bit of wall and slid down a meter to a rubble strewn bit of ground inside what had been the templar complex on their homeworld.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, having arrived two years earlier with reinforcements to help out with the last bit of fighting in the lizards’ now former capitol system. “Doesn’t feel like it though.”

“They’re not defeated, just evicted,” Paul clarified. “There’s a big difference.”

Taryn telekinetically picked up a lizard corpse and flew it back to a Bsidd on the collection team that was busily cleaning out the rubble while other teams were scouring it for anything interesting left behind…though about a third of it had been destroyed in the fighting to take the city where all the senior lizards seemed to have camped out. They didn’t typically go in for luxury infrastructure, but this region was definitely the exception with a very different vibe to it.

“Well, what now?” she asked, looking at Paul.

“They’re not getting this one, but we’re going to fill up Michra.”

“And?” Greg pressed as he ducked under a half fallen structural support as they continued a lazy victory tour through the complex while taking helmet vids for those trailblazers not here. Conquering the lizard homeworld had been one of the big items on their to-do list, and now that the fighting here was over they were taking a moment to savor that milestone and have a look around.

“We’re going to pull as many lizards here as we can so we don’t have to kill them. Thrawn is going to make use of them, but under strict conditions that they not leave this planet without permission.”

“Thrawn?” Rio asked with a smile.

“Seemed fitting, and they don’t have names. Just batch and geographical numbers. ‘He is what he is’ is how he described it, so I decided to give him a name.”

“And the templars?”

“If they have names he isn’t privy to them.”

“What do you plan on doing if your new best friend kicks the bucket?” Greg asked.

“I don’t have a backup plan,” Paul admitted as the group of 18 trailblazers walked out into a more or less intact hallway that rose up about three times their height but was double that in width and stretched out for more than a mile to their left and a half mile to their right. “He said that if he grew another mastermind it would cause immediate problems, and without one to control them the other lizards would either follow established orders or revert to previous ones.”

“Meaning they’d attack us?”

“And we’d have to kill them like we were going to do anyway,” Jason finished the line of logic.

“What about long term?” Greg asked.

“What do you guys think?”

Taryn answered first. “I think we can’t incorporate them into Star Force without running the risk of them taking anything we give them and spiriting it away to the rest of them.”

“Point,” Rio emphasized.

“Genetic recalibration?” Jason floated.

“We could have done that a long time ago,” Greg reminded him. “And with all the other races we’ve rescued here, do we need or want the lizards in our empire?”

“No and no,” Olivia spouted. “Where does that leave them then?”

“They need a purpose,” Paul explained. “Right now they have one…rebuilding and Thrawn figuring out the riddle of the templars, but they’re going to need another, because their training marks are showing as adequate. There won’t be a lot of deaths to thin their numbers.”

“They are holding to the ‘no population growth’ edict, right?” Aaron asked.

“So far as I can tell, yes.”

“And you trust this Thrawn?” Rio asked.

“Mostly. He knows he has little leverage here, and every time we meet in person I can access his memories…which is why I’ve been visiting often.”

“But you’re not going to stay here?” Jason asked.

“Long term, no.”

“So what keeps him from misbehaving once you move on?”

“A purpose. I’ve been thinking through this for a long time, but I want fresh opinions. And what the hell is with this place anyway?”

Greg glanced up at the ceiling, seeing ornamentation that was distinctively not lizard utilitarian. “I get the feeling these templars aren’t the lizards we’re familiar with.”

“I think…” Taryn said, suddenly stopping. “Anyone else feel that?”

“Feel what?” Jason asked, stretching out his senses.

She mentally directed them all to the northeast and down below ground level, with Paul feeling a faint presence that wasn’t Bsidd or Human.

“There’s something there but I can’t make it out. Aaron?”

“Not lizard, and I don’t think it’s fully awake.”

“Let’s go,” Jason said, breaking into a run with the others following.

It took them nearly half an hour to work their way down through the structure, passing through two more damaged areas before they came to a blank wall with no visible entry points.

“They sealed someone inside?” Rio wondered, with all of them able to see the compartment with their Pefbar and the single alien it contained.

“A little trap for us?” Taryn floated.

“My gut says no,” Greg said, looking at the architecture. The equipment keeping this guy sedate was all internal.

“Paul,” Jason said, retracting the armor on his right hand as Paul did the same on his left and walked up beside him. After a long moment they each plunged a heated hand into the wall material and began melting lines from head height down to the ground, then Paul continued across the bottom while Jason took the top. It took more than 15 minutes to get through it all, then they pulled the 3 inch thick plug out and tossed it on the ground.

“Oh that smells bad,” Taryn said, despite the filters on her helmet.

“I’m starting a search for other concealed compartments like this,” Aaron said before getting on his comm and getting Archon units out to psionically scan the entire complex, which had a footprint of some 43 square miles.

“Anyone recognize this guy?” Olivia asked, walking up beside the insect-like hexped that was hooked up to the equipment via various tubes and restraints.

“It’s a pain inducer,” Greg said, figuring out the odd sensations he was getting from the person. “He’s sedate enough to perpetuate here, but his mind is just active enough to feel the discomfort.

“His body is a mess,” Jason commented. “If we so much as bump him he could die.”

“Med team with a regenerator is on its way,” Paul informed them.

“Punishment?” Aaron wondered.

“Left here to rot away while in constant pain,” Greg floated. “Unfortunately, I’d have to say yes.”

“Think he’s been here since the templars left?” Taryn asked.

“Damn,” Olivia said, looking at and into him. “Anyone find the pain switch? Can we at least shut that off?”

“I hate to say no,” Jason cautioned, “but a few more minutes of suffering is better than being dead. Let’s not touch anything until we have the regenerator here.”

“Punishment for what?” Rio wondered.

“And who is this race?” Paul added.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until he wakes up…and hope he’s still sane,” Greg said, trying to access his mind but getting nothing but a wall of pain. “I can’t get anything from him.”

“Me neither,” Aaron agreed. “He doesn’t match any of the prison races?”

“No,” Paul confirmed. “And I don’t recognize this race from any database I’ve studied. Maybe a slave race.”

Olivia looked down at him from about a foot away. “I wonder what he did to piss them off this bad.”

The painful haze that had long ago swallowed up Kirritimin suddenly withdrew, replaced by a numbness as his eyes opened. The light was so bright it would have hurt, but the numbness was there as well and soon the overload dissipated and his senses began to return to him. His spider-like body was so weak, but he was no longer in pain again and the restraining straps were now gone.

Replacing them was a silvery device on his chest, but as he lifted one of his legs up to touch it an invisible force held him in check. That little bit of resistance sent his mind into a chaotic swirl, so many years of damage making him so brittle he had virtually no control…but soon a firm and cool presence slipped into his mind and quieted the storm, giving him a clarity that felt surreal.

He bent his torso, sitting up slightly and seeing individuals around him that he’d never laid eyes on before but knew intimately well. Pushing off the table on which he lay, the beetle-shaped Fassna flipped over and got its six legs underneath it as it looked around, happy that the pain had ended and not caring if he died soon after.

“Hello,” one of them said in Li’vorkrachnika, which Kirritimin had been forced to learn long ago. “You are safe now.”

“You are Archons,” he said, knowing their identity from their armor. “A new rank?”

“I am a ViLord. The next level beyond titan. You know what we are?”

“I do. You can read my mind I assume?”

“Yes. Who are you and why are you here?”

“Where am I?”

“On the Li’vorkrachnika homeworld that we just conquered.”

Glee mixed with tinges of sadness erupted within him. “I am the last survivor of the Fassna. The rest of my race were killed before my eyes as punishment, then I was forced to endure more,” it said, blinking its pair of eyes on the front of its shell where it had a small lump for a head. “What is this chamber?”

“You were sealed inside a wall with no entry points. We detected your mind and cut our way in.”

“I was left to die?”

“Slowly. We don’t know for sure how long you have been here, but we assume a very long time.”

“What is the device you have on me?”

“A healing device. It is repairing your body.”

“I can feel the changes. How was I damaged?”

“You were nearly dead of stagnation. Have you been unconscious the entire time?”

“I have no memory of this chamber,” he said as he felt the device slither across his chest then detach. It flew through the room over to one of the Archons’ hands. The pain returned, but it was different and somehow refreshing. His body was still weak, but he could move well enough to shift his weight around, though he was too far off the ground to jump, for he feared his strength wouldn’t hold up on landing.

“Why are you here?”

“I was captured long ago along with what was left of my defeated race. They kept them alive to force me to help them,” he said with considerable shame. “Under my leadership we hurt the Li’vorkrachnika far more than they expected, and they wanted my skills for their own purposes.”

“You were kept on this world or another?”

“My people were kept here, away from the minions, and I was only permitted to interact with their leaders. They sought from me strategic savvy. I frustrated them in small ways where possible, but I had to give them knowledge else they’d kill those who were depending on me. Perhaps I should have refused long ago, but I did not see what else to do. In retrospect it was a mistake, but at the time I could not allow my kin to be wiped out entirely.”

“Why did they kill them and put you here if you were assisting them?”

“Because I failed them. If I was not useful there was no reason to keep us alive. I am only here, now, because they sought to punish me further. I did not expect this method, and part of me wishes to die. If you kill me now I will not put up resistance. I deserve death for what I have helped them do to you and others.”

“What exactly did you do?”

“Plan their conquest of the galaxy. They will not stop until they have consumed it all, then they will find a way to spread to others. I do not know how they will accomplish that, but they will never stop expanding. They are compelled to do it. I do not think it is greed alone. They are adamant and have given me much information with which to work with. Had they known you would retrieve me they would not have let me linger. You bombarded this world?”

“We did, followed up with a ground invasion.”

“And I am in a chamber underneath a shield generator?”

“No. You are within their command complex. Its generators are spread around the perimeter. You are placed well within the foundations of the building.”

The Fassna was confused. “You said there was no entry?”

The Archon pointed behind him to a hole in the wall. “We had to cut our way in. From the exterior there is no visible entrance, nor any indication to suggest there is a compartment within. All power and life support are self-contained.”

“Then they meant for me not to be found. My mind was small to you?”

“You were unconscious, but still visible to us.”

“Then they erred…again.”

“Why did they need you when they have their own strategists?”

“Their strategists were created from me. They studied me and tried to duplicate my intellect, but never fully succeeded. They sought to control them, and in doing so limited their foresight. They are effective in small tasks, but civilization-wide control is not what they meant for them. They sought to keep knowledge suppressed to regions, with only their leadership caste knowing all that occurred. I knew much because they had to tell me much, but in recent times they have kept things from me. What they are doing in the region towards the galactic core is largely unknown,” he said looking up at the Archons around him, each in turn. “Why have you not pursued them there? Why give them safe haven yet push to conquer them rimward?”

“We have our reasons,” the Archon nearest him said. “How old are you?”

“I have been a prisoner for 3,923 years. Sadly, I have been indirectly responsible for most of their growth. They were dumb, but numerous. They are still reckless, but have learned much from me, though they will not be as effective now that they have abandoned me, no matter what they believe. Do you wish to kill me for what I have done? Or do you want my information first? I would like that they be destroyed for what they forced me to do and the death of my race.”

“We want your information, but not your death. You have amnesty with us.”

“Even though I was responsible for the campaigns against you?”

“What exactly did you do?”

“I told them how to defeat you.”

“What went wrong?”

“You are far smarter than them. I gave them a strategy to defeat you and they failed. They took too much time, and you grew far faster than you should have. Your technological progress is astounding and you incorporated other races into your civilization in a most beneficial way. Now your numbers are almost entirely Bsidd, and they fight for you not as a slave race. Their loyalty is not bought by threats or fear. They give you the numbers the Li’vorkrachnika have always wielded. They are why you cannot be defeated.”

“I think we had a little to do with that,” the Archon pointed out.

“Your skills are remarkable, but it would not have mattered. Given enough numbers they could have overwhelmed you. Your Bsidd countered that weakness, and now you are impossible to defeat. Please do not stop until you have destroyed them all.”

“Why did you not die earlier? How did you survive so long?”

“My race does not decay like others. It is also why this form of punishment was effective. You may have repaired my body, but my essence is broken. I do not know how long I want to live in this condition.”

“We don’t give up on people,” the Archon said firmly, “and after surviving all this, it would be a waste to die now. Especially if you want vengeance.”

“You would trust me to help you? After everything I have done? I know you are in my mind, but surely your anger…”

“Would you have done what you did if your people weren’t held hostage?”

“No, but I still did it. That cannot be forgotten.”

“I am choosing to forget. Not erase the memory, but leave the consequences in the past along with your dead race. Let this be a fresh start, and with us you will be free, not a slave. Help if you wish, or simply take refuge with us. I do not blame you…besides, even with your help, we beat them.”

“That is what I hoped. And that is why they punished me. Perhaps that is fortunate, or they would have taken us with them when they evacuated.”

“Why take you with them if you failed?”

“I failed because I told them they could win, though I knew they would not. They committed many resources here to wear you down towards an eventual breaking point that I knew would not be achieved. They believed the lie until you were literally on their doorstep. I did not want my people to die, and I did not refuse to do my task, but I chose a battle that I knew could not be won rather than cautioning against direct contact and withdrawing faster. The plan to move away from their powerhouse was mine, but I delayed it enough to cause them to be far weaker than they otherwise would have been. When my predictions did not come true they saw no further use for me, though I do not believe they ever understood my deception. They are arrogant, and sometimes that arrogance blinds them.”

“You told them they could win how?”

“Attrition. I knew they would slow your advance, but I had no hope of countering it even with the technological updates we began receiving.”

“Receiving?”

“The rate of technological advancement increased suddenly. I presume a new source of knowledge was obtained, but even with it I knew it would not be enough. The margin of error was small, but I was counting on your intelligence not to squander your advantage. Other than your coreward boundary you have not. I cannot fathom why you have it, but I assume there is a cause. If you do not go beyond it they will grow again, so I do not understand.”

“Do they always expect to win?”

“They see it as simply a matter of proper tactics and time. They cannot or do not comprehend the idea of someone else being superior. That is why they do not negotiate. And until you, they had never had need to.”

5

After a long discussion the Archons got the very old survivor up to the Sanguine Blade, Jason’s command ship, where they ran him through a full medical diagnosis, but as usual the Kich’a’kat had done a good job. He was very weak, tissue wise, due to the fact that he’d been laying still for years, but he was no longer in danger of dying…though he still expected to, and in some respects wanted to, but the Archons weren’t taking that bait.

“They are massing resources here,” Kirritimin said, pointing one of his front legs towards a point on the starmap glowing before him. Due to his physiology he couldn’t stand up next to Human equipment, so they had to bring a table in level for him to work off of as Jason, Paul, and Taryn were quizzing him on lizard strategic deployments and what he knew of them, as well as in recent developments since his imprisonment in that death wall. “It is probably a waypoint, but they did not expect you to learn of it. The jumplines in are minimal and they are using a passage through a nebula to disguise it. The easy routes will show no activity.”

“Clever bastards,” Taryn commented, looking at Paul. Something for the Voku?

I’ll let Cal-com know. “How close are they to getting a fully operational shipyard ring?”

“Even if they pooled all resources into a single system they will not have completed one yet. It takes a massive effort and they do not have the industry in place. They build fast, but these here were massive undertakings. They will not be repeated quickly or lightly. Will you strike at this world?”

“It’s far beyond our engagement line,” Jason responded, “but one of our allies might.”

“It is the funnel for resources coming from the remaining core worlds. They will continue to produce material and personnel to send there until you destroy them. That is their task, though they have been withholding a great deal of it to defend themselves to the point of weakening any assault force, so to there delay further conquests. It is a miscalculation of mine, and while they are taking unnecessary losses, it is making your takeover of this region more difficult.”

“You can repay us with your assistance, not your death,” Jason admonished him again. “Are there any other worlds in this region with shipyard rings that we have not discovered?”

“There is only one, but why the templars chose to build it there is unknown to me. I do not know if it is completed yet, but it is far from here,” he said, highlighting a distant system. “It is unremarkable, yet they were sending considerable resources there previously. I think they were creating a fortress system of unknown specifications, but to defend against what threat I do not know.”

Paul looked at the location, well towards the original H’kar territories. “An internal threat? We know there are some races that were never conquered.”

“I have considered this, but I have been able to come to no satisfying conclusion. The amount of material being funneled there is consistent with the construction effort on a shipyard ring, as were the personnel transfers. Their newborn workers are skilled, but not efficient. Such projects require experienced crews if they wish to rush construction, hence there was a massive allotment of personnel transports that I was able to detect even when they did not allow me any information on this system.”

“Why weren’t you able to conquer the holdouts?” Taryn asked him.

“Sadly we were able to, but a few were too advanced. Their technological advantage negated our numbers. They were not in a position to expand, or at least chose not to do so, and it was agreed that the best course would be to ignore them and reroute traffic around their systems. I encouraged this, but it did not originate with me. Had I done so they would have suspected that I was not fulfilling my part of the bargain.”

“What do you know of the Preema?” Paul asked.

“They are losing, also by my design,” he said with a deep regret that none of the trailblazers could miss. “They are winning every battle they fight, but cannot control territory. We are spreading elsewhere and revisiting old sites quietly. Those are expendable, and if they require a Preema fleet to eradicate them again then they spare a more intact one elsewhere due to the delay involved. The Li’vorkrachnika are taking horrible losses in their new region, but their expansion rate is superior. The Preema will not be able to stop them unless they know the specific systems to hit.”

“And you don’t know where they are?”

“No. I was not trusted with that information due to my failure here.”

“What of the Skarrons?” Jason asked.

“A tactical mistake. They could have repulsed our attacks but have chosen not to. They are letting this region fall because of internal conflict. The rulers here are in disfavor, and though there has been no negotiation with the templars that I am aware, they are allowing this piece of the Skarron empire to fall intentionally.”

Paul raised an eyebrow and Jason returned a similar glance. “How do you know this?”

“Whenever a world is taken, it is searched for valuable knowledge. Some databases have been recovered that has allowed their motives to be determined. The Skarron leaders here,” he said, drawing a rough region of space, into which the lizards had eaten out about 2/3rds of the systems, “are determined to hold on their own. The fighting is intense, but the Skarron empire could easily squash the invasion if they chose. If this region falls, the leaders will be removed from power if not already killed. If they succeed in holding, it will gain them a measure of prestige, but their powerbase will be so weakened they will not have much standing in the consortium that leads them.”

“What do you know of that?”

“There are factions bound together into an empire in which most actions occur locally, but some necessitate larger involvement. The Consortium handles all major issues and has a bit of territory of its own. All the fiefdoms contribute to it, and if a pushback were to occur all of them would send troops that the Consortium commanders would lead. They have no intention of helping this fiefdom due to past actions that have put it out of favor.”

“Do the templars intend to push beyond these borders?” Taryn asked.

“I advised against it, but they will not hold back forever. If they are wise they will expand elsewhere while their current systems further develop, but sooner or later they will attack, given their track record and the knowledge that they can beat them. It is a fool’s hope, but given enough time and resources it is possible that they could succeed…but you have taken away any chance of that with your invasions here. They cannot recover the strength of their original worlds within a thousand years, and they will need that and more to take on a full Skarron reprisal. It would be a very ugly war, and I do not know how it would end, given the size of both empires.”

“But if they don’t play it exactly right, the Li’vorkrachnika will get stomped on?”

“That is my assessment, yes.”

“What is your assessment of our empire?” Jason asked.

“I do not have full data on it, but if you intend to grow you are taking the harder route. There are many easy systems to take in other directions. Why have you not expanded more aggressively where there is no opposition?”

“We expand where we need, but we don’t want our territory to grow too large to control.”

“Yet you currently maintain a mass of empty conquered systems that is difficult to patrol and keep clear of new inhabitation.”

Paul looked at him skeptically. “How do the Li’vorkrachnika get their knowledge of us?”

“You give it freely. They simply listen.”

“How?”

“They have agents within your borders.”

Taryn gave Paul a hard glare, but he didn’t show any reaction on his face. “Li’vorkrachnika or allies?”

“Both. I do not have specifics, but I instructed them how to infiltrate. The Li’vorkrachnika are not within your prime territories, they are in the free races where you have little oversight. It is a dark area where much can occur. I told them how to exploit it.”

“Why haven’t you blown up anything?”

“Several reasons. Your most valuable assets are not within reach. The information they are gathering is too valuable to squander the plants. And we have been playing for time. Angering you further with offensive attacks would only hasten your conquest…which would diminish the number of resources flowing to the new region.”

“Are there plans in place to cause havoc at some point in the future,” Taryn inquired darkly.

“I advised against it, but I would not assume that the templars will continue to heed my advice.”

“How are they getting the information out?”

“Follow the trade routes. Find a weak spot where there is no Star Force presence and you will find a link to the Li’vorkrachnika. I will say that whatever information they are receiving is considerably delayed, and most of it is on the structure of your empire rather than fleet or troop movements.”

“Do you know what races are being used as envoys?” Paul asked, having expected something like this but still a little surprised to hear it laid so plainly before him.

“I was not told, but I have surmised that the Gnar are their primary conduit, second to various commerce organizations.”

“Ok,” Jason said with fake merriment. “It’s skull cracking time.”

“Indeed,” Taryn agreed.

“Can you take care of that?” Paul asked her.

“Happy to. You staying here?”

“No, actually. I’m taking Thrawn on a little field trip to see how much gravitas he has. We might be able to get some of the smaller worlds to evacuate without a fight, but we’re going to be needing a lot more captured lizard jumpships. What we have now isn’t close to sufficient for what I want to start doing if this works.”

“You need someone to go ship hunting?” Jason asked.

“Yes, but not you. And Kara is busy,” he said, drawing a slightly angry glance from Taryn.

Jason saw and smiled. None of the trailblazers were happy when they found out about Clan Ghostblade. Not because they didn’t like the idea, but because they hadn’t thought of it themselves and the dynamic duo had one upped them yet again.

“If you will not kill me,” Kirritimin meekly added, “what do you wish of me?”

“You’re coming with me back to Earth,” Jason said. “Then we’re both going to meet with the Director and have a long talk and decide what to do with you. Other than being killed, which isn’t an option no matter what your guilt level is. What’s done is done, you’re no longer a threat, so focus on the future and helping with your skill. If you die now you’ll be harming the enemies of the Li’vorkrachnika a second time. Use what you know against them. You owe that much to the people you helped kill.”

Jason got the emotional response he was fishing for.

“I understand and will comply. Do you take orders from Director Davis or he from you? We were never able to determine that.”

“First off,” Paul added, speaking for Jason as he did a lot of the time, and vice versa, “stop saying ‘we.’ You’re not part of them anymore, so adjust your terminology.”

“Second,” Jason continued, “neither is true. We’re a team, so we coordinate where needed. He runs the civilian side, we run the military, and share when necessary.”

“Does that not cause conflicts?”

“Nope.”

“I do not see how such a system could function without a clear command structure. Do you avoid being in the same systems?”

“We do not conflict,” Paul said with finality. “We are superior to a rigid command structure. Experience and trust is key, but it’s not something that can be documented. It’s an understanding that we have that defies rules and structure. One of our biggest advantages is our ability to adapt to the challenges that present themselves, so why would we limit our ability to react with restrictive structure?”

“Because ambiguity can lead to hesitation and confusion.”

“Is this mindset something you gained from your time with the Li’vorkrachnika or was it part of the Fassna?”

“In small groups a less rigid structure may be used, but when you are dealing with interstellar civilizations in the trillions anarchy will occur without a plain and unambiguous command structure. This is true of all civilizations, not just the Li’vorkrachnika.”

“Then how do we manage it?” Taryn asked him.

“I have often wondered this. I assumed there was a hidden structure that we…the Li’vorkrachnika could not detect.”

“There is,” Paul said, drawing looks from the other two trailblazers. “The lightside. It binds us all together.”

“What system is this?”

“He means,” Jason added, “we do what is right. And being in the right binds us together, even with people we’ve never known or crossed paths with. Most races are unfamiliar with this concept, let alone the larger applications of it. And it is something the Li’vorkrachnika could never comprehend. They will stab you in the back if it is to their advantage. One who is lightside will not, hence there is an inherent trust that binds us all together.”

“How do you define what is right without a codex?”

“How do you know 2+2=4?” Paul asked. “You can read a codex or count for yourself. We figure out what is right by living and experiencing and trusting our gut instincts. And we’ve yet to find a race in existence without gut instincts. Some refer to it as a conscience…which is partly what I would say is the reason you want us to kill you. You know what you did was wrong, even if it was to temporarily spare others.”

“I cannot fault your logic, but I do not fully understand. Perhaps it is due to my mental instability. When one of you is not holding my mind intact, there is little I can do but wallow in my madness. I am not sure that I am fully intact even with your assistance.”

“Time and training,” Jason advised, “and you will recover. And there will be someone to help you most of the time, though it is necessary to have bouts where you are on your own so that you can process and adapt. Consider it your penance if you like. It will be a long journey to reconstruct yourself.”

“As you have stated, I owe it to those I helped victimize to see it through and shield others. If you are certain I can recover, I will attempt to do so. But even if I cannot, with your help I should be able to produce some valuable assistance in the interim.”

“You already have,” Paul stated flatly. “We didn’t know about the Skarron Consortium.”

“I was referring to something more strategically useful. If you would give me information on your own forces, I will do what I can to enhance your techniques.”

“War games?” Taryn suggested.

“I think Liam would be interested in that,” Paul said, knowing he didn’t have the time. “If you can find any flaws is our methods, we’d be grateful.”

“Do you have any other enemies for me to study?”

Paul and Jason didn’t look at each other, but both knew what the other one was thinking.

“Yes,” Taryn said, drawing skeptical looks from both of them. “But if we gave you that knowledge we could not allow you to have the freedom you deserve. Some things must remain between insiders only.”

“What freedom do you suggest? I seek none.”

“Something else to discuss with the Director,” Jason suggested, catching Taryn’s drift. “For now, let’s just say there are other forces in play that the Li’vorkrachnika haven’t come across yet.”

“And these Voku? Can you tell me more about them?”

“That we can do,” Paul said, being the in house expert on that particular allied race given his relationship with Cal-com. “What would you like to know?”

6

September 3, 3229

Muesharu System (lizard territory)

Immita

The mastermind rode into orbit on a Li’vorkrachnika jumpship fully crewed by his own people. He’d had them inspect it inside and out, literally, to see if there had been any tampering by Star Force before they’d turned it over to him. Other than some patches over hull breaches, nothing had been altered and even now there was no Archon onboard looking over him. There was a ship insystem, annoyingly invisible to his sensors, but Paul had said he wouldn’t be operating on a leash and had apparently kept his word.

Not that it was necessary. He had no desire to return to the templars, and via negotiation with Star Force he was actually preserving more Li’vorkrachnika on Michra than he could have done fighting back. The Human-led empire was just too strong, there was no stopping them, but as he was learning, there were other ways to achieve your objectives.

What his objectives were was still a matter of question. Preserving resources was an obvious one, as well as searching for additional data on the templars and anything else within the Li’vorkrachnika civilization that he hadn’t been made aware of. But long term he did not have a purpose, nor had Paul made clear what he expected of him and his people on Michra. He had forbade them from producing more personnel save for special circumstances, but come the time when there were no more Li’vorkrachnika to recruit, did he expect them to just wither away? A compassionate way of exterminating them without having to kill them?

Yet that didn’t make sense, for Paul was teaching them how to go about attaining self-sufficiency. How well it would work long term the mastermind didn’t know, but his scientists were already studying the results and there was limited, but concrete evidence that there was an effect taking place in the standard variants that he was having go through the Star Force-inspired physical training.

They had no warships. No anti-orbital defenses. He did have a fairly good sized complement of fighters and tanks, but nothing that could do more than scratch Star Force. He had nothing to defend Michra with…save for him keeping his word, which was why he wasn’t going to try to make a break for it in his jumpship, in addition to the other reasons for staying on task.

With him was a fleet of some 83 other jumpships. Some were cargo models, other troop transports and naval carriers. All were in excess of 20 kilometers long, but it was going to take a lot of trips to evacuate the world into whose orbit he was now arriving. The defending fleet had already accepted his authority, ironically giving him some 43 cruisers and an additional cargo jumpship, though he knew those warships were going to have to be turned over to Star Force after the crews were retrieved.

This system held a single inhabited planet, which had a population of approximately 32 million Li’vorkrachnika, all of which were now his. They had held no marker, given the small size of this location and it not being necessary for it to fall under the command of a mastermind. Even without receiving his marker they were immediately accepting his command, and the evacuation of the planet was already getting underway.

That was expected, but a part of him wondered if there would be any resistance to the evacuation order. He had not given any reasons…for that would have been unusual, but given the fact that he was essentially attacking and conquering this world for Star Force suggested that there should have been some hurdles to overcome.

But there wasn’t, and given the Star Force fleet that would be following them in to lay claim to this world, no one would know what had happened here. Hopefully that meant they’d be able to repeat the process in many systems, and he wondered if the method would be discovered at all, for the invasions were continuing throughout this region and one more system going dark shouldn’t draw undue attention.

He knew there wouldn’t be any data files here on the templars, especially since there wasn’t an interstellar comm system built, but there might be some updates carried by courier and he wanted to have a look around the planet for other reasons, so he headed down to the planet as the evacuation began with a flurry of transport craft rising up to meet the jumpships that he’d brought down into a low holding orbit.

After so long on the war torn worlds of the capitol system it felt odd to land in one that was unblemished. Highly undeveloped, but pristine in its infrastructure and population. Everything was in order here, and he intended to make use of as much of it as he could as soon as he got to the planetary command center.

“What are your orders?” the administrator variant asked as soon as he walked into the chamber. The system had been his responsibility previously, but now he was standing down as expected and taking on the traditional sublimation to a servant. That had been woven into their genome, but the fact that the mastermind stood much taller and massed more than twice his amount always had a chilling effect, for if the strategic master wanted one of his underlings killed he wouldn’t have to order anyone else to do it.

“We are beginning a slow evacuation, but while we are still here there are tasks to be done. I have inspectors being dispersed to gather data, but for you I need ramped up output on the list I am supplying you. Utilize all reserve resources, and the less we have to haul away with us the better. I want as much equipment manufactured in the time we have, for I have need of it elsewhere.”

One of the Li’vorkrachnika librarians that had traveled to the surface with the mastermind gave the administrator the necessary data, then without question began to get to work.

The mastermind took the small central position in the chamber and began reviewing planetary status reports along with the limited intelligence on the surrounding region. It seemed there was an invasion noted only 23 lightyears from this position and several of the supply routes were heading through this location from three other systems.

That meant there would probably be other ships passing through…and that couldn’t be allowed.

“Get me the fleet commander.”

After a few moments one of the standard variants on a cruiser in orbit appeared in a flat hologram before him. “Take all your warships to the star and hold any convoys passing through. I am taking them under my command. Divert them to this planet.”

“Do you wish a personal order given to them?”

“I will dispatch emissaries to your fleet with the necessary markers to override any priority orders they may have. Leave one warship in orbit to gather them and send the remainder along with yourself immediately. I do not want any ships leaving this system not under my command.”

“It will be done,” the commander said, his image winking out.

When he finally got the first results of testing done on the local lizards, the scientists he’d brought with him reported no variation in their genetics as compared with those on Michra or those taken off the shipyard ring on Yamitar. He hadn’t expected there to be, but ever since the capitol system had been blockaded the rest of the empire had been cut off from his knowledge and he’d wanted to know if there had been any upgrades made.  Technology wise there was nothing new here as well, save for an updated starmap that was outdated compared to the one that Star Force had provided him.

No, this was just a little filler system producing a handful of ships and supplies that were being exported elsewhere into the feeder system that was funneling them in a very circuitous route to the coreward region. No one was going to miss it either, and he almost wished he could hang onto the planet as well. There was a decent amount of infrastructure here that would have to be left behind, but he needed these Li’vorkrachnika on Michra and Paul had flatly stated he only had the one planet to work with.

The real question was how much could he take with him? Paul hadn’t designated how many round trips would be used, and if he sent less personnel on each trip he could cram in more equipment. Star Force wasn’t going to leave anyone behind, but the lack of detailed orders given to him suggested that Paul was going to be watching how he handled this rather than micromanaging.

He didn’t know if Paul was in this system or not. He’d been in orbit of Michra when this convoy fleet had left, but he knew he’d be overseeing this operation one way or another. So that left the question of how long he could stretch this retrieval operation out?

No, the real question was in what he was going to be taking back. Paul wouldn’t fault him for bringing necessary equipment, but if he started piling up a lot of bulk items that could be more easily manufactured on Michra then there could be trouble. The thing of it was, he could more easily produce additional population than hauling the 32 million here back on numerous jumpship trips. That wasn’t economical, but for Star Force the personnel mattered whereas the equipment did not.

Which meant he had to pick and choose carefully, focusing on items that would allow him to make other things on Michra rather than finished products. The short range transports he had just ordered built would assist in carrying cargo up to orbit and across the surface of Michra, so he wasn’t worried about those as much as the raw supplies here. If he took those back Paul might object because there was plenty of material in the form of rubble to recycle, which was why he wanted those raw materials used here and now rather than hauling them back, but this planet had a good stockpile, above average actually, and he didn’t think the local industry would be able to burn through it all by the time they had to leave.

Then again, if Paul was going to get him more captured jumpships he didn’t have a firm timetable anyway, so he was just going to have to take this one convoy at a time and see where it led. Getting even one crate and one Li’vorkrachnika off this world was a bonus…he just needed to maximize the bonus as much as he could.

3 months later…

The mastermind was still on the surface of the planet when a new fleet of jumpships arrived in planetary orbit along with a Star Force jumpship. Fortunately he’d already got markers onto the warships so their captains didn’t fire at it on arrival near the star, but he did have to order it labeled as a neutral vessel within this system before his ships stopped navigating evasively.

As soon as the order filtered its way into orbit his ships reorganized appropriately, trusting in his command even if they didn’t understand it, then a comm call came in directly to him. His personal staff were not surprised, and routed it through to him accordingly.

“Hello, Thrawn,” Paul said, using the annoying Human name given to him. “I have some more ships for you.”

“249?” he asked, seeing the count on the orbital sensors.

“We recently invaded Hopyr and managed to grab these before they ran or committed suicide. I need a crew swap.”

“Where is your command ship?”

“Busy. I just needed a ride here so I took one of the small ones. We have a few senior personnel from each of the ships that we managed to take alive, but we’ve been having to force feed them using Archons to keep them intact until they could get here. We’ve tested them and they do not have an inhibiting marker like we found on Yamitar, so I believe you can use them. They do know they have been in captivity, but we’re going to wipe their memories. Can I trust you will take the necessary measures to insure they don’t kill themselves when they wake up?”

“You can. What do you mean by force feeding?”

“Taking remote control of their bodies in order to get them to eat and move around a bit before rendering them unconscious again. It’s not something we can do for mass numbers, hence the rest of their crew, when they didn’t surrender, were killed.”

“Do you not have stasis technology?”

“Not by any means that we’re comfortable with using. It might keep you alive, but it trashes your body in the process.”

“Yet alive and trashed is preferable to dead.”

“Is that Li’vorkrachnika logic?”

“No. We would just grow new personnel. It is Star Force logic, as I would conceive it.”

“In a manner of speaking. Our mercy has limits, and we chose to preserve these few in this manner. We did not choose to go to greater lengths for people you have considered expendable.”

“Given your population growth restrictments, each has more value than previously.”

“How touching,” Paul said sarcastically. “Handover will occur as soon as you can get crews onboard.”

“Any significant damage?”

“Spotty, but they’re all jump worthy. Any difficulties here?”

“None.”

“Could it have been achieved without your presence?”

“I believe so.”

“I see you’ve picked up some new ships of your own.”

“I’ve confiscated several convoys passing through this system. No issues there either.”

“And my showing up?”

“They obey even if they do not understand.”

“As soon as the ships are handed over I’m heading back to the fighting. The sooner you get this evacuation finished, the sooner we test your theory.”

“Given the fact that you can’t read my mind across a comm channel, I will tell you that I am utilizing this planet’s industry to produce a variety of craft and equipment rather than shipping the raw materials back to Michra.”

“Don’t delay personnel transfers. I’ll allow one full trip of all jumpships here for equipment alone. Get your people back and integrated as soon as possible.”

“That will be sufficient. What will you do with the planet thereafter?”

“Recycle the remaining infrastructure and leave the planet empty, added to the patrol list.”

“A waste of intact facilities.”

“Yes it is,” the Human agreed before the comm shut off.

So he had an extra convoy run for equipment alone. That would simplify things…as well as dictate how much he could take back.

“Ready a transport. I am heading up to orbit.”

When the evacuation of Immita ended, the mastermind departed making sure that no one was left behind. Usually he would be the first one out, but he was among the last this time as a Star Force ship, a Ma’kri, made itself visible as it slid in behind the jumpship convoy as they approached the stellar jumppoint. It was tagged as neutral immediately, for he’d ordered all Star Force ships to be regarded as so unless otherwise ordered. None of his ships juked to avoid it and the knife-like behemoth didn’t close within 1000 kilometers.

The convoy jumped out of the system, leaving it empty save for the small flotilla of ships hiding on the opposite side of the star. With no stellar monitoring system and only one inhabited planet, the lizards hadn’t seen the Star Force ships arrive and take position in the ‘shadow’ of the star. With the Ma’kri lagging behind just long enough to signal them, they now came around and headed into the planet while leaving behind a single warship to guard stellar orbit and intercept any lizard traffic that might be coming through.

The three cargo jumpships and their crews of techs were escorted into planetary orbit by another warship that took up stewardship of Immita and let the recycling crews get to work landing their equipment. This planet wasn’t fully inhabited, in fact less than 10% of its surface was covered with sporadic infrastructure, and none of it rubble. They would be doing a thorough investigation and survey of the planet before disassembling the lizard structures, for this was the first time they’d ever had access to one taken without damage or sabotage.

Nothing of consequence would be found and the planet would slowly be returned to its natural forested state. Landscapes would be reworked to fill in the holes that had been dug to facilitate the underground structures, but in the end some 22 years later they’d leave the planet with a lot of small tree sprouts poking up out of the wide plains of dirt and grass that had once been lizard cities.

Who would get this planet down the road had not yet been determined, but it would be one of many that had to be watched to avoid squatters coming in and putting down roots on a region painstakingly recovered from the lizards by Star Force and its allies…and one that was becoming more and more coveted by outsiders.

Fortunately the recovery of this world hadn’t necessitated any fighting, and it wouldn’t be the last. The long shot of trying to convert a lizard mastermind had paid off, with Immita being just the first of many small worlds that would surrender to Star Force without them even knowing they were doing it, easing the path forward and accelerating the progression of the front lines as they continued to creep out around what was left of the core worlds like a giant sheet hung up on a knob in the center.

Soon those would fall and the slightly less developed worlds around them thereafter, scaling down to smaller and smaller systems in what would eventually be a long cleanup campaign…though the fighting in that campaign would be more intense than a lot of other races had ever encountered in warfare. Star Force had simply advanced to the point where they could handle so much that the ‘lesser’ battles were no longer in doubt, simply a matter of time and effort.

7

October 18, 3229

Solar System

Mordor

Kirritimin sat on a cushioned platform, his body at odds with the chairs nearby that were designed for vertical torsos, but the Archons had provided the necessary accommodations since he’d arrived. It had been three days since then, and he’d been basically sitting and waiting with a few people visiting him and asking questions. Greg had gone, after having very lengthy conversations with him during the trip back to the Star Force capitol system, and the Fassna had been left with several other caretakers.

Food had already been synthesized for him, and while it was better than what the Li’vorkrachnika had provided it included no meat whatsoever. He’d expected that, but the idea of his newfound ‘freedom’ not including his ability to eat the foods he wanted struck a chord of hypocrisy. He truly didn’t care at this point, but it was noteworthy how Star Force restricted a lot of actions of the dominant in order to give the lesser races privileges they didn’t deserve. Any race that couldn’t communicate was a legitimate food source, though the Li’vorkrachnika didn’t bother adhering to that distinction. Star Force completely went the other way with it, not allowing even the consumption of microscopic lifeforms deemed to be ‘animal’ in nature.

In Kirritimin’s spare time he’d been doing a lot of research now that he had direct access to the Star Force information network. A lot of it was the same as he’d received back on Yamitar, but there were updates to a lot of things that he was interested in and some information that had been granted to him that wasn’t in the public databases that had been fully copied and supplied to the Li’vorkrachnika by their agents within the ADZ.

Their rationalization of their food source procedures was curious because almost all races without fail used others for their own gain, whether it be benign or malevolent. Star Force went to great lengths to do the opposite and see to it that all races were aided in some way, with large tracts of land set aside as sanctuaries for races that would otherwise have been raised for the production of foodstuffs. Star Force was gaining nothing from them and expending resources to maintain and even train them, and the reasoning behind that had never fully sunk into Kirritimin’s mind.

Now that he had full access to their database he was doing some research to try and close that logic gap.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” a voice said from behind him, startling the Fassna and causing him to jump up off all six legs and almost spin about as he turned around to find a Human standing behind him.

“What is the right thing to do?” he asked a moment after he regained his wits and looked up at the person who was wearing an administrator’s uniform, but with a different pattern of colors he didn’t recognize.

“Taking care and defending those who cannot do it for themselves,” the man said, grabbing a chair and hauling it over near to Kirritimin’s platform.

“You were in my thoughts?”

“Yes, I have some limited skill in that area.”

“Who are you? You don’t wear the uniform of an Archon.”

“I thought you studied our records thoroughly?”

“I did, but Human faces all tend to blur together for me.”

“I am Director Davis.”

Kirritimin twitched. “Why do you have no guards with you?”

“I do not need them. I am also an Archon.”

“You have questions to ask as well?”

“A few, but first I think you have some to ask of me.”

“Such as?”

“Why.”

“That could cover a wide range of topics,” the Fassna said evenly.

“Pick one.”

“Why do you not eat meat?”

“First off…it’s gross. But I actually did, when I was young. Never really understood what it was that I was eating in the beginning and just regarded it as food until I learned later that I was eating someone’s body parts. There’s a lot of ways to disguise that fact…grinding, mixing, coating, drying. But you’re still eating a person’s body. I don’t hold it against people who eat the dead in emergency situations, but to do so when not necessary is uncivilized. And killing for it is never acceptable.”

“Not even in emergency situations?”

“No.”

“You would starve to death rather than kill a primitive creature?”

“I have no problem killing when it’s justified. But killing to eat isn’t one of those situations. Why should another die so that you can live another day or two? They have as much right to live as you do. Where is the logic in that?”

“Priorities.”

“What priorities?”

“The dominant have priority.”

Davis crossed his arms over his chest. “So if I’m superior to you I have the right to kill and eat you if I so choose?”

“Yes…if that dominance is not an opinion but an obvious fact. Those races that cannot communicate are decidedly inferior.”

“It is the place of the strong to protect the weak, not eat them.”

“Very few think as you do on the subject.”

“Good thing we’re winning then.”

“Why do you not enslave others?” Kirritimin asked, realizing he did have a lot of ‘why’ questions in his mind.

“Freedom is a right of all individuals. Sometimes it is restricted by necessity, but when respected it can never be permanently revoked. The prisoners we take do not have freedom of movement, but they are not required to do anything. That part of freedom is maintained, and their freedom of movement will resume after a specified period of time. It may be a long time, but we have no permanent prisoners. Everyone has a chance to regain their full freedom.”

“Yet your civilization has many limitations.”

“If you see freedom as in having the ability to do harm to others without consequence, then that definition is accurate, but not the only definition. Another type of freedom is being free from harm. That is the type we structure our civilization on, though the Archons have both. We’re the good guys, so we don’t harm others because we can, but we don’t have any restrictions.”

“Your strong have more freedom than your weak?”

“With power comes responsibility. Those who live up to that responsibility are granted more freedom. Our younglings have the least, but they too can earn their freedom by completing their basic training. It all comes down to being able to identify where to step in and interfere and where not to. Sometimes you need to interfere to preserve freedom, or to simply save a life. Other times people need the ability to make mistakes from which to learn. But if you have people killing other people then those people don’t have a chance to learn and grow, therefore that aspect of freedom is reserved for those of us who know when someone needs killing.”

“Yet you do not execute prisoners?”

“If we want someone dead, we don’t take them prisoner to begin with.”

“And if you change your mind about one that you already have prisoner, do you release them with a head start then hunt them down?”

“No. If we’ve taken someone prisoner we honor the responsibility therein without exceptions.”

“So you will not kill me under any circumstances?”

“You’re not a prisoner anyway, and no, we’re not going to kill you. I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You are learning more and more of what I have done. Opinions can change.”

“I’m simply granting you a second chance. What is done is done. If you are no longer a threat I see no need to hold you accountable for actions that were forced upon you.”

“I could have chose to die and not help.”

“You could, but you didn’t in exchange for sparing the lives of others. I’m not saying that was the right choice to make, but take away the coercion and you’re not a threat, are you?”

“My skills are.”

Davis smiled. “My people are better.”

Kirritimin looked at him silently, then remembered that he could see what he was thinking. “I do not think so.”

“You’ve been fighting against us for a very long time now. Tell me where I’m mistaken.”

“Your technology has given you an edge. Without it the techniques the Li’vorkrachnika employ would have overwhelmed you.”

“Numbers gave them an edge. Without that we would have overwhelmed you with our skill.”

The Fassna considered that a moment. “Their race naturally reproduces faster. All things being equal, they will always have a numbers advantage.”

“Naturally? I thought they manufactured personnel?”

“That is how they reproduce.”

“Now. How did they originally reproduce?”

“I do not know. It has been this way as long as I have been aware of their existence.”

“If taken with even resources, I would bet my people could outthink you.”

“You are mistaken.”

“Care to put that to the test?”

“War simulations?”

“Of a sort. These are more complex though, and it will take you time to adapt to them. Also, you will not be utilizing Li’vorkrachnika. A generic will be supplied, or in later stages, a number of existing or previously existing races.”

“So you wish to test my skill?”

“It is a request, not an order. If you want to have no further discussions with us you will be taken to a colony where you can live quietly by yourself or integrate with the local community. You will have your freedom, but I would suggest not telling others of your history. There are still many who hate the Li’vorkrachnika for what they’ve done.”

“And my safety would be in jeopardy?”

“We do not lock down our population for fear of them harming one another. If someone does we identify them and remove them so they cannot do so again. This keeps things peaceful for the most part, but if someone does not care for the consequences they can harm another before we get to them.”

“That is your definition of safe?”

“We do not like our population to be weak, so we train them in the maturias to defend themselves, hopefully long enough for security to get to them. Ensuring no possibility of harm or death to an individual would require total isolation.”

“Which you have in your prisons?”

“Yes. We take no chances with them.”

“But the rest of your population has the option to kill another?”

“We can’t take all risk out of life.”

“So I am not truly free to leave?”

“If you don’t tell anyone your history you are safe enough. If you want to leave Star Force territory entirely you can manage that on your own. We won’t stop you, and there are plenty of civilian trade routes you could book passage on.”

“I would have nothing to bargain with without exposing my identity and my skillset.”

“Not immediately, but you could find employment for a short period of time to acquire the necessary credits.”

“An amusing thought, but I have no wish to leave and my only priority now is to assist you in recompense for my past actions.”

“Then keep asking questions.”

“Why do you not allow your member races some form of control of your empire? If they were subordinate your dominance would be understood, but to equate them as peers and allow them no leadership seems hypocritical.”

“My homeworld experimented with democracy for some time…and it proved to be an utter failure. Appointing individuals to leadership positions they did not earn was a disaster. Here, all races can advance based off their merits. You’ve misinterpreted the structure of Star Force.”

“Yet all of the leaders are Human.”

“All of the leaders at this point are those that have the most experience and skills. With the Archons our positions are measured very pointedly to determine our ranks. Less so in other aspects, but the measurement is there none the less. Star Force started out as Human only, hence those with the most experience are Humans.”

“Truth or a convenient lie?”

“Truth.”

“Yet you maintain full command personally?”

“I have the most skills.”

“And if another improved to exceed you?”

Davis smiled. “Then I would happily turn over the position of Director. Being wiser than everyone else has the disadvantage of having no one of higher rank to learn from. If someone exceeds me, then I will have a chance to learn from them and that would make me very happy. It is one benefit of being an Archon as well that I do have, for I am nowhere near the strongest or wisest in that regard, but as far as Monarchs are concerned, no one is my equal.”

“And you are sad about your dominance?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Would not an equal be a threat?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because the good guys aren’t threats to one another. Bad guys are, and you’ve been living with bad guys for a very long time now.”

“And what if I am a bad guy as well?”

“You’re not. I have a knack for picking them out. You’re not one of the good guys either, or I’d know that too. You’re what most of this galaxy is…neutral. You can veer one way or another, but in your core you are neither bad nor good. That can make you dangerous, which is why all Monarchs and Archons have to be good guys.”

“How do you possibly measure something like that?” Kirritimin asked, assuming that such platitudes held no actual substance.

“We have our ways. If you do not believe good guys exist, then explain how our empire remains united.”

“I cannot.”

“What did the Li’vorkrachnika think?”

“They did not have issue with it. They are used to obedience, so the idea of internal discord is foreign to them. They see it in others, but they do not expect it as fundamental because for them it is not.”

“I think you’re wrong about that. They just are very good at covering it up. Next question?”

“Why do you exist?”

“We are peacekeepers. Do not mistake the word, for it can have several definitions and Li’vorkrachnika terminology is still a little rough for me, but it means that we are guardians that seek out injustice and put a stop to it. It does not mean that we are built for peace, but that we create peace via waging war of all types, large and small. Some people think peacekeepers abhor war, we do not. We like war. It’s how we get rid of the bad guys.”

“And bad guys can’t be rehabilitated?”

“No, they can’t. Fortunately there aren’t very many of them out there…not the pure hearted bad guys anyway. But neutrals can stray so far dark that it is almost impossible for them to come out of it. We give people a chance, but don’t expect most to right themselves. Sadly the environment one lives within can sway neutrals one direction or another. We use this to our advantage with the way Star Force is built, so we can sway neutrals towards the light, but it can and does work the reserve direction in other civilizations. We have had considerable experience with this, especially in regards to the Protovic. Are you aware of that more recent history?”

“Bits and pieces. Your public records are incomplete regarding much of the origins of the various Protovic breeds.”

“One originated from a very bad civilization we had to conquer and destroy. We saved the people and gave each of them a path to their freedom, but only a small fraction were able to pull themselves out of the depravity forced upon them. Those that did not fully accept it were killed, leaving only those who could blend in or those that were fanatical to remain. We gave them all a chance, but as expected most would not change.”

“Why bring me here then when I have been in a bad civilization so long?”

“The choice was not mine, but I agree with those that made it. Your mind is fractured, I can feel it, but already you are recovering. You may not be one of the good guys, but you are extremely impressive and worthy of respect. Your skills could be put to use here if you so choose, but even if not you deserve a chance like everyone else.”

“And beyond war games, what would that chance entail?”

“You’ve lived amongst the Li’vorkrachnika for so long your mind is clouded with their darkness. Make no decisions now. Live among the light for a while, soak it in, and let the decisions happen later. There is no rush, and your body is incredibly resilient to have lasted this long without training. Simply exist with us, keep yourself occupied with the war games for now, but let things develop as they will over time. I think that eventually you’ll be able to chart your own course once the damage done to you heals, but you’ve got a long journey ahead. Whether or not you begin it is up to you, and if paying penance for your past actions is the motivation you need then so be it, but know that I do not hold you to that promise.”

“You truly want to help me for my own sake, in addition to what my skills could offer you?”

Davis smiled and shrugged. “To be honest we don’t need you. We’re fine as is. But once you recover, if you feel like adding to our strength we’d be more than happy for your assistance. You’ve survived a long ordeal that no one should have to go through. Unfortunately life doesn’t play fair, but Star Force does. We may not be able to counterbalance what the Li’vorkrachnika have done to you and your race, but you’re still here, and we’re going to help you if you’ll let us.”

“I still do not understand your motivations, but as you said, I’m carrying a great deal of internal damage. I agree to stay with you and learn what I can.”

“Even if you don’t believe anything will come of it?”

“At this point I have nothing left to lose, so I will abide by your wishes and assist you as I can.”

“Fair enough,” Davis said, standing up and spinning his chair around so he could sit down in it backwards and lean his arms on the backrest. “Now, my time for questions. Tell me what you know of the sovereigns…”

8

April 7, 3235

Krachnika System (occupation zone)

Michra

The mastermind walked out of a transport and onto a section of the planet that had yet to be rebuilt. Rubble still covered most of the world, but there were sections of it that were being remade at a furious pace in addition to the intact region that had been spared combat save for the massive defense turrets and shield generators…and anything close to them when Star Force had bombarded them into oblivion.

For whatever reason, Paul wanted to meet with him in the rubble rather than in one of the intact cities, having selected this location a few hours ago and given the coordinates for their rendezvous so he would have a chance to pick away at his thoughts to ensure that he was living up to their bargain.

Which he was. There was no value in trying to work around the Archon or Star Force when they’d given him a legitimate pathway to follow. As considerate as they were being, the mastermind had no doubt that any deception would have consequences. The Archons were ‘compassionate’ when they chose to be, but only a fool would think of them as forgiving or naïve. It was best that he not cross them, and he’d learned by now that working with them was going to gain him more than some pathetic attempt to do them harm.

All the ships he commanded were transports, and though they had a few defensive weapons on them none could be considered warships. Those had been confiscated and destroyed, but he did need as many jumpships as he could get his hands on and had even received permission to build some on planet. Right now there were two working shipyard slips on the surface with another 18 under construction, and partially completed hulls in the pair.

All the other ships were captured during battle and turned over to him for use and repair. A few had to be brought down to the planet and grounded because structural components had been torqued so badly that without an orbital shipyard full repairs couldn’t be made. Had he still been at war that wouldn’t have mattered, but there was no reason to tolerate such imperfections when he had the ability to fix them.

The same went for the planet, though there was so much here to fix that it would take a long time, especially considering that certain aspects of production were taking priority over others. With more and more convoys of lizards coming in he had to make sure to have facilities ready to accept them and their labors, for he didn’t want anyone sitting around doing nothing while waiting for factories or equipment to be built.

But handling population was easy for him. The Li’vorkrachnika produced so much so fast that they naturally knew how to organize and manage the masses. The genetic locks no doubt helped keep everyone in line, and since his newfound ‘freedom’ the mastermind had been studying their genetic code closely, yet finding nothing he could undo without unraveling the whole of his now pirated civilization.

He no longer served the templars, but his minions didn’t concern themselves with such things. They were bred to obey him and so they did, carrying out assigned tasks and doing it for their civilization even though this was now a rogue offshoot and under the care of their most hated enemy…and that was a well-earned distinction, for over the millennia the Li’vorkrachnika had fought and beaten many opponents that pushed them to their limit, but none had overcome and risen to dominate and punish them like Star Force had. Their ruined homeworld lay as testament to that fact.

But the lie of his own creation was something he sought to unravel, and without alteration Paul was not going to let him produce more population. Right now that wasn’t a concern given how many Li’vorkrachnika were being recovered elsewhere, but eventually that number would dwindle and he’d be fixed with a neutral or negative population curve. He had to find a way to unlock the minions, but in every simulation that he had run they became unstable.

He couldn’t produce any live ones to check for sure, but the genetic pattern woven into them was a very deliberate one and he didn’t have the necessary skills to be able to pick and choose which pieces to remove or blend together. As it was he couldn’t alter the coding one iota without encountering problems, leaving him with the existing tools to work with and the inability of crafting any new ones.

His own genetic blocks worried him most. He’d been digging into those and training himself to see past the ones he found, but analyzing oneself was much more difficult than another, for you did not have perspective. He kept constantly checking and rechecking himself on tasks that he’d never considered complicated before and most of the time it was needless worry…but on occasion he could stumble across a fragment of a divergent thought that would be swept away from his mind almost immediately.

That was when he knew he was onto something, and given enough time he could track it down, but how many other things where there and being pulled away from his conscious mind without him realizing it? That thought scared him the most, for things he couldn’t see he couldn’t fight against and they could leave him blindsided against his enemies…or even his superiors.

He wondered now if the templars feared his breed and put safeguards in place for their ever disobeying. It seemed ridiculous considering how loyalty was what the Li’vorkrachnika lived and breathed, yet the genetic blocks were there for a reason. What was it? What could it be?

He still didn’t have answers, and the small systems that he was evacuating back to Michra didn’t have any databases that could help illuminate that question in the slightest. They were all backwater outposts or supplementary worlds while the big ones were falling to Star Force year by year and off limits to him due to the fact that other masterminds were there to block any attempt he could make on data recovery…let alone conscripting their minions to his own service.

That didn’t stop Paul from sending him some of them anyway. On occasion they’d be able to capture those on a shipyard ring before contrary markers could be flooded into the troops, but doing so on the ground was virtually impossible. Still, Star Force was stunning some of their opponents into a passive oblivion and then wiping the memories of battle from their mind, but because of the genetic locks on them they were programmed to interpret an unknown situation as enemy duplicity.

Many of those memory wiped would kill themselves within minutes of waking again and finding themselves in unfamiliar surroundings, even if they were Li’vorkrachnika buildings or ships. The paranoia made sense in that you didn’t want the enemy gaining any use from captives, but without knowing of an enemy and being compelled to kill yourself by the genetic programming could be a huge vulnerability if the enemy could find a way to weaponize the memory wipe process.

Toss a biological weapon onto a planet that would spread and take away a few days of memories and your entire population could start killing themselves due to the memory gap. This was something that he should have known existed in order to make sure it never happened, but the templars hadn’t included it in his genetic knowledge, databases, or even quietly told him about it in person.

And that begged the question as to how much more was lurking in their genetic coding that he didn’t know about.

A few standard variant soldiers spread out around him to take up scouting positions in the rubble, but he knew there was nothing on this planet to harm him and everything in orbit could obliterate what he was building here with ease. There now orbited two of the Star Force defense stations they called ‘Sentinels’ and they had the range to strike whatever targets on the surface they wanted. All it would take was a little orbital redirection and they’d float over the desired area and blast it into rubble…again.

There was also a decent sized warfleet up there, though most of the ships that had conquered this system had left, moving on to other invasions no doubt, but what was left here was more than he could hope to defeat even if he was of a mind to do so.

Eventually a Star Force dropship came down and an armored Archon came out alone, though the mastermind could see a few other personnel inside the ship as the hatch lowered. He walked over to meet the Human halfway, looking into a blank faceplate that suddenly retracted to reveal the smaller biped’s head.

“As strong as you are, why do you still feel the need to wear your armor?”

“Never know when you might need it,” Paul said pithily.

“You fear an ambush?”

“No, I just like having it for unexpected situations. It’s a long climb back up to orbit to grab it if something does happen. Why don’t you wear armor?”

“We never developed a need for it.”

“I’ve seen some of your troops wearing body suits.”

“Thermal mostly, and occasionally an armored patch covering their torsos, but your weaponry can shoot right through it. As for me, I’m not supposed to engage in combat.”

“Then why did they make you so large?”

“You never know when you might need the advantage,” he replied in echo. “Is there something specific you want to inform me of, or is this simply the routine check to see if I’m betraying you?”

“Both,” Paul said bluntly as he pointed to the dropship and a small lizard walked out as its mind was being controlled by an Archon within. “We recently hit the Dragoya System, middle-sized industrial base, four planets, and there was a group of about 60,000 of these guys,” he said, referencing the lizard that had four arms, a boney head and spine, and very thick and powerful stubby legs.

“We know they’re diggers,” Paul continued, “but I thought this variant had been deemed obsolete given your improvements in mining technology. I’ve searched his mind but he knows nothing obvious. I need you to assert command so he doesn’t kill himself when he wakes up.”

The mastermind looked down at the odd lizard, for he had never seen one in person for just the reason that Paul had stated. “Withdraw from view.”

Paul walked off, leaving the little lizard facing the mastermind until it suddenly twitched back to consciousness and the first thing it saw was the behemoth standing before it.

“Be still,” the mastermind ordered, taking one of his two, four-fingered hands and rubbing it across the lizard’s arm. The genetic programming within the digger recognized the gesture, knowing that he’d be receiving new memories within minutes. “Tell me what your last assigned task was before being transported to me,” he said carefully, with his words eliciting the right sense of control to keep the digger from worrying about the memory gap and accepting the situation for what it was.

“I have not been assigned a task. I was awaiting transport.”

“Were you told where you were going?”

“No.”

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“I do not.”

“Be still and observe,” the mastermind said, waving Paul forward. “We are on a world that is safe from Star Force because we have an agreement, so when you see one of their people do not try to attack or flee, simply proceed with assigned tasks.”

To his credit the little digger did not move when Paul walked up beside him, giving him a few meters of clearance.

“There is a lot of rubble on this world that needs to be reclaimed. Access shafts have been cut off. You will assist the digging teams by creating auxiliary routes to the subsurface areas.”

“As you command,” the digger said, staring in Paul’s direction.

“Wait inside my ship, then you will be taken to your assignment.”

The shorter lizard walked off into the transport and disappeared from view as the mastermind looked back at Paul. “He is conscripted. Where did you find them?”

“In a facility near to where they were grown, apparently awaiting transport offworld. I want to know why.”

“Excavation,” he said without hesitation. “Our machines are far more efficient at removal of bulk material. The only possible purpose for this breed is delicate work that the machines cannot manage.”

“What sort of excavations?”

“They are retrieving something or building around something they do not want damaged…or something dangerous. And it is located on a world where they do not have the necessary infrastructure to grow them locally.”

Paul thought for a moment. “What do you know of the Keepers?”

“An ancient race rumored to have superior technology. We have found a few remnants, but nothing of significant value.”

“Did you use diggers for that?”

“It was not I, so I cannot answer that question. My guess would be yes.”

“Isn’t 60,000 too many for a single site?”

“There may have been far more than that if this was not the first shipment. If the object is small that many could be procured for a quick withdrawal, but it makes no sense to produce that number from afar when a smaller amount would be able to do the task. I believe this is a large scale effort, though there is nothing in my memory to suggest what it could be. Most likely it is either information withheld from me or something new.”

“How far away would they bother growing them?”

“Not far. I suggest you search within a radius of 200 lightyears unless you suspect they would have known you to be watching them. If that is the case their production and transport may have been lengthened in order to hide the destination. Do you have a map?”

Paul activated his armor’s hologram, creating a starmap of Star Force holdings in between the two of them that he mentally adjusted to zoom in on Dragoya and the surrounding region. The mastermind pointed to a core world not that far off.

“They did not use Chederson, assuming this was the only planet producing the diggers. I believe they assumed you would be monitoring the larger system and chose to use a smaller one to avoid detection. Why did you assault it before these others?” he asked, pointing to several worlds on the new border that had been skipped over.

“We don’t like to be too predictable. Plus if others don’t know it’s fallen, we can pick up fleeing ships from others passing through. You’ve gotten a decent number of your jumpships from that tactic.”

“How did you prevent them from sending a transmission?”

“We put blocks up prior to the invasion. It requires some sneaking to get them into the system beforehand, but with one such as this there isn’t that much security in the outer regions. Wait for the planetary alignment to be right and you can slide in unnoticed even with a huge ship.”

“So they had no way of knowing you were coming, and assumed this system would not be hit for at least a year or more?”

“Several years, actually. We chose it because this region had been passed up many times for an assault.”

“Then there is something nearby that they do not want you to find…and it is not on a world they currently inhabit. I find this highly curious. This region of Li’vorkrachnika territory has been heavily explored and cataloged. If something new was found buried beneath the surface of a planet, what cause did they have to go looking for it? Something must have risen to their knowledge, though by what source I cannot speculate. I highly doubt they managed to conquer one of the remaining besieged races.”

“Not to our knowledge, no, but we have little reconnaissance of their remaining territories. We’re only scouting in off the border far enough to size up targets.”

“Have you surveilled the other system with the at least partial ring shipyard?”

“No we haven’t. It’s too far away to hit now, and there’s no point in rushing to take it down. If they want to suck up resources from surrounding systems to build it, better that than warships. We’ll just take it from them eventually anyway.”

“I am surprised.”

“There are a lot of systems out there, and setting up slow jumps from enemy-held systems isn’t easy when you’re trying to sneak around.”

“So you are relying on Li’vorkrachnika maps?”

“And those of races along your borders, yes.”

“And what if those maps have been falsified?”

Paul looked at him with a frown. “You’ve found something?”

“More duplicity. I am questioning everything I cannot verify myself. I would suggest you do the same with your maps and scout every system whether you are quiet about it or not. There may be more going on out there than you know.”

“So now you want us to defeat the templars?”

“I want information and I know you will share what you learn. Are there anymore diggers left alive?”

“We rounded up 329 more and they’re on a transport in orbit. I didn’t have the crew to manage more than that, and a lot of them died in the fighting, but I didn’t want to bring back just one.”

“And the rest of my envoys?”

“Busy on other worlds. There were none on Dragoya.”

“Do they have a marker?”

“Yes, but it’s not barring yours. There was a mastermind present though.”

“They may be obsolete, but digging through debris is one task they are good at. Send them down and I will add them to my workforce.”

Paul sent a quick signal to orbit and had the transport begin its descent.

“You still wish you could save them all?” the mastermind asked.

“I could save more if I wished, it’s simply a matter of resources, time, and willingness. If I want to take the population of an entire world captive I can, but I must have a huge staff of handlers ready to receive and maintain them in an unconscious state to keep them from decaying or waking and killing themselves. We cannot mount many invasions of that nature, and if we delay in order to do so the Li’vorkrachnika grow stronger and continue to spread, making our efforts more difficult.”

“Yet you still find time to save some of them in this fashion?”

“On special occasions.”

“And the killing bothers you, so you find special occasions if none present themselves so to put your mind more at ease?”

“I kill them because they won’t surrender and have to be stopped. I could stop them via other means but do not have the time. That does bother me, but I won’t let others die because I took my time.”

“I feel no such restrictions, and I am beginning to wonder if that is because I do not have them or because they are being repressed.”

“The fact that you’re even wondering that is a sign that you’re overcoming your blocks.”

“Not fast enough, and I may never know if I’ve found them all…”

9

May 31, 3247

Krachnika System (occupation zone)

Michra

The mastermind stood before the birthing pod in one of the deactivated hatcheries, watching one of seven Li’vorkrachnika awakening to their new reality and not taking kindly to it. The standard variant thrashed about wildly as others moved in to restrain him. It took a moment for him to settle, then the typical tantrum wore off and he blinked his eyes against the harsh light as he heard orders being issued to him and his genetic imperatives found him inclined to obey.

He moved off with the handlers as the second of the new standard variants was removed from his pod, the process being the same but them handling it one at a time. This facility had never been fully shut down, producing a handful of Li’vorkrachnika variants that the mastermind needed when recruits weren’t sufficient, but this was the first time it had produced standard variants since the invasion and he doubted Paul would object given the fact that these were special cases.

After years of research he’d finally permitted the scientists to create a new genetic template…not a wholesale new Li’vorkrachnika, but a subtle alteration to the standard variants as a test. These seven were to be the first and last unless they were able to successfully integrate with the others. The genetic blocks within the originals had been removed and reworked, substituting an inclination towards obedience rather than a mandate, which would allow them to think and decide while their choice would be heavily urged in the desired direction.

The danger was lack of order, and the mastermind had been hesitant at creating any unshackled Li’vorkrachnika because he didn’t know what they would do, but the potential advantage was in making them smarter and more adaptable than before. He’d been studying Paul’s methods closely, and the more he found and circumvented his own mental blocks the more he was beginning to see the wisdom in them. Star Force methods would not work on the Li’vorkrachnika without seriously altering them, and if he risked that he could lose his foothold here on Michra via rebellion or internecine.

So he went for making modifications, taking what was useful in the Li’vorkrachnika and preserving it while allowing for adjustments to incorporate Star Force strengths when possible. He had nothing to counter the Archons so he didn’t try. Simply wanting to make his standard tools more effective and knowing that new ones could be fashioned later, though often with centuries of research and fine tuning needing to be done. Normally they’d just kill or find some auxiliary purpose for the ‘failed’ experiments, but not only did he now see that was wasteful given his limited resources, he also felt uneasy about it.

His Li’vorkrachnika couldn’t become hesitant or that would destroy them. When the enemy outmatched you, you had to fight as if you had nothing to lose. Fearing death would only inhibit you, but there were many non-combat situations where death should be avoided. Why hadn’t he seen that before?

He assumed two reasons. One was because he had been used to growing whatever population he needed and now he couldn’t, with Paul mandating he use the recruits and nothing else for his masses of workers. Two, he was now fairly sure that the templars had restricted any sense of attachment or concern for those Li’vorkrachnika that he commanded. They didn’t want him hesitating to send them to their deaths if needed.

And that wasn’t going to be a problem. If needed he’d still do it, but looking back on his own history and that of many others that he had found in the databases he was discovering that ‘if needed’ had included many circumstances where it truly wasn’t. Had their blocks caused them to get sloppy with their own personnel? He’d never wasted resources before, not the material ones, but in reanalyzing past actions and running numbers supplied to him by the librarians who had a penchant for cataloging every little detail, he was seeing his own actions in a new light. One that he had been unable to see before.

Paul had said the mental blocks would have downsides and this appeared to be one of them…and he’d never even suspected it. The data was right in front of him. He’d seen it before, but his eyes had been glazed over and he hadn’t recognized it for what it was.

By taking away, or suppressing, his concern for his minions, the templars had actually made him disregard their resource value at the same time, as if the genetic coding couldn’t differentiate between the two. And in truth how could it? For an individual’s strengths were based off their knowledge and skills. He’d been instructed to treat them as disposable resources.

Was that why they never advanced as Star Force did? Not only did they not live as long, they’d never tried because he and the other masterminds had been engineered not to pursue those paths? Would the more experienced Li’vorkrachnika resist the templars’ commands, or was this an accidental byproduct of keeping too tight a reign on them? The minions were one thing, but to restrict his mind made every choice and battlefield call suspect. Was that deficiency really worth the tradeoff of unquestionable loyalty?

No, not loyalty. Obedience. Loyalty could be attained without lying. He had been deceived into thinking the others had regimented minds and his was free so that he could be the most effective possible. But what was the cause for that unless what the templars were doing did not warrant loyalty and they had to shield their servants from knowledge of it?

These thoughts plagued him sporadically, for without additional data there was nothing new he could discover…save for when he located another block and found a way around it. Perhaps what he needed to know was right in front of him and he was just being blocked from seeing it, as were the others. Maybe the answer truly lay with him alone, but it frustrated him to no end that he had no way of measuring his progress and that he could be continuing a vain search if and when he did overcome the last of the blocks and simply failed to recognize that there were no more to find.

He watched out of curiosity as the rest of the seven were birthed, wondering if they would be failures from the moment they awoke, but they all appeared to be identical to their brethren. A small step forward then, though the real test would be in how they performed their assigned tasks and when and if they deviated from them.

Two years later he had his first incident.

The mastermind watched as the bound Li’vorkrachnika was brought before him and dumped onto his knees. It became passive and didn’t look up at him, staring rather at the massive legs before him and waiting for whatever doom was to befall it.

“Explain your actions.”

“I did my duty.”

“You violated orders.”

“It was necessary.”

“Why?”

“To keep from killing 36 diggers. The orders were in error and they had not been given sufficient time to evacuate the mine shafts. Had I followed orders they could have been caught in the coring blast. I explained this to my superior but he did not care. He had orders, and he said I had mine and those diggers had theirs. Deviation could not be tolerated.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I refused and defended the control panel long enough to give them time to evacuate.”

The mastermind leaned down, noticing the shallow cuts on his face that matched what would have been administrator claw marks. “Why were you not killed on the spot?”

“You gave orders not to waste personnel.”

“That I did. So you had two orders to follow that conflicted with one another. One that required you to obey and one that required you to think. You chose to think.”

“Should I have let the diggers be killed? Did I err?”

“What do you think?” he asked him, wishing he had Paul’s mind reading ability. It would be very useful in situations like this.

“The delay in operations was minimal and we retained use of the diggers. I believe I chose correctly.”

“You did. We cannot afford to waste personnel in order to save pointless amounts of time. Release him.”

Two standard variants walked up without question and undid his restraints.

“You will return to your station and assume the duties that were the administrator’s. He will be reassigned elsewhere. See to it that the drilling operations continue as quickly as possible without sacrificing personnel in the process.”

“I will.”

The mastermind gestured for him to leave, then gave another slight twitch toward one of his librarians that it knew meant for it to log his orders, which in this case would include the reassignment of the administrator before this standard variant returned. It made the data changes within a few seconds and the guards walked out behind the former prisoner, leaving the mastermind with a moment to think before attending to other business.

He needed more experiments like this one.

“I need to send a message to Paul,” he told his minions, who scurried about to set up the proper protocols for interfacing with the Star Force communications network in orbit that would then send any data on to wherever the Archon was, whether insystem or out.

Paul was onboard the Excalibur in the Jeop System helping to clean up one of three planets in that core system when the communications seda with them received the message packet and transferred it to him. He was about half an hour away from heading down to the planet on his ship’s recently resupplied TF to begin another ground campaign, but delayed his arrival there by a good ten minutes as he read through the brief but pointed message and considered the implications.

Thrawn wanted to grow 20,000 new standard variants with modified genetics identical to the handful he’d produced 2 years ago. He’d cited a recent incident where one of the experiments had defied a superior in order to preserve the lives of other lizards who would have been killed accidentally if the order had been followed…ironically disobeying the standing orders to not waste personnel that the mastermind had laid down. It seemed the genetic locks were so firm that they’d always follow the most recent, or maybe most relevant order before them due to an inability to say no even when they’d be complying with an older or more ambiguous order.

But this experiment had not. He’d actually thought it through and acted to prevent their deaths. Whether that was because he didn’t want them to die or was just enforcing the mastermind’s standing orders was a relevant question, but this minor success did bear more scrutiny…which was only going to be achieved with a larger group to study.

Paul wasn’t going to let go the population growth restrictions though, so he came up with a compromise and sent a return message before heading over to the core of the command ship and into the TF minutes before it detached from the donut ring and began to descend down into the atmosphere and open up a sixth front on the southernmost continent.

The mastermind read through the message, noting that Paul had agreed to his request with a caveat. In exchange for the 20,000 he’d have to supply Star Force with a list of raw materials. Nothing too rare, but it would cost him a chunk of his already limited materials. He had enough in warehouses to cover the transaction, but with reclamation efforts across the planet ongoing and him eating up almost everything they recycled with new infrastructure projects, he’d be putting some of them on hold until additional resources were acquired.

But it would be worth it, he hoped. Either way he needed to find out what the consequences of altering the genetic code were, and if there were undoubtedly tweaks that needed to be made it was best to get to them sooner rather than later. The resource loss would be a hit, but the future of his operations on this planet demanded he get answers as soon as possible.

To that end he immediately ordered the assembly of the necessary materials at a specific landing site and arranged for a later pickup by Star Force. When the necessary cargo canisters were assembled a flock of the fat-winged dropships came down and slowly picked it apart, leaving nothing but an empty landing field and the mastermind with the go ahead for the 20,000 production order.

Several of the hatcheries that he’d preserved fired back up, workers returning, and the new genetic samples being introduced into the growth gel.

The mastermind watched the first batch of the standard variants birthing again, this time with an Archon beside him, one of Paul’s subordinates within his Clan Saber. It was interesting how they each had their own personal empire within an empire, and apparently Paul’s was going to monitor the development of these Li’vorkrachnika with their psionics, for which the mastermind was grateful, for it would give him yet more data to work with.

He didn’t doubt their honesty…far from it. Star Force was renowned for their loyalty to the truth, almost to the point where he thought they might have genetic constraints instilling that imperative, but fortunately that meant he could rely on their mysterious powers to help him test these new ones, and he was interested in wondering why one of them was here at birth. Had they witnessed this before?

“A few scouts have,” Fred-498 said, answering his unspoken question. “But I’m here to get a baseline reading. If there’s divergence it’ll be helpful to be able to pinpoint when it begins.”

“Divergence from themselves or their predecessors?”

“Both. Why do you think their awakening is so violent?”

“We are bred for battle, so when unknown situations face us we respond aggressively. As soon as they get some semblance about them they come to order.”

“A disorientation side effect?”

“Are you sensing otherwise?”

“And it has nothing to do with them smelling me?” the Archon asked, his helmet down but otherwise encased in golden armor.

“They can smell little with gel in their nostrils. It is disorientation.”

“All variants are like this?”

“We are.”

“And the templars?”

“They are live births, of which we have no further knowledge.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“I cannot be sure of anything concerning them that I have not witnessed myself. How long…”

“I’ll be in and out sporadically. Will that be a problem?”

“We’ve amended the genetic memories of these so that they don’t shoot you on sight, but the others have been so bred. They are following my orders contradicting that, but as you can see,” he said, gesturing to another standard variant coming out of its pod and thrashing around, “it is best if you don’t startle them. They may strike at you on reflex before remembering my commands.”

“I’ll be careful. I’ll also need work assignments on these so I can monitor their progress. I need to observe them when they do not know I am watching them, and I need it to be in the course of their daily duties or off hours.”

“You will share your results?”

“All of them, yes, though they’ll be in the form of field notes. I will have them translated first.”

“If that is your way of asking if I am learning your language, the answer is no. My time is better spent on relevant duties.”

“Because you have subordinates to do the translating?”

“Of course, but given that they are your documents I’d still prefer that your people did the translating…though feel free to send both copies for analysis.”

“I’ll do that, and make sure the others do as well.”

“How many of you will be observing?”

“An unspecified number. We’ll be in armor, so you won’t know who is who anyway. And if we do our job right, some of the time you won’t even know we’re here.”

“I imagine that has been the case for years now, though I have found no evidence of it.”

“We’ll identify landing coordinates each time, but after that we may roam unescorted.”

“Then I ask you not to kill any of my minions if they do attack you. Simply render them unconscious.”

“We don’t make a habit of killing, and you’re not the only ones that have attacked us. We know how to handle ourselves, and since we can access the minds of those that do, if you do not give an order to do so there will be no misunderstanding, so do not concern yourself with it.”

“Do you so readily answer others’ questions before they ask them?”

“Most of the others do not know we possess these abilities, so no.”

“And Paul instructed you to be candid with me?”

Fred smiled. “He did.”

“So much the better,” the mastermind said as another Li’vorkrachnika drew its first breath of fresh air, clawing at it and everything else around him.

10

February 28, 3249

Solar System

Mordor

Kirritimin sat on a pedestal, his rear four legs curled underneath his beetle-like body while his front two were busy manipulating a control board with the statistics of yet another fictitious scenario based off of real data. It wasn’t regular, but more and more information was making its way to him from the Skarron/lizard border and the Star Force Director had him running through many hypothetical conflicts trying to figure out not what the enemies would do, but rather what they could do with available resources, personnel, and geographical holdings.

It was tedious work, but he enjoyed it. Nothing so mundane as running battle simulations, the Fassna was literally building and destroying virtual empires with no oversight. The Archons he dealt with on a regular basis didn’t want to influence his choices, thus they did not try to assimilate him into their way of thinking. Instead they threw what they called ‘challenges’ at him and he now relished whenever he was given a new one…especially when it was one he initially failed.

The lizards had not been so generous with tasks. Theirs were more demands in a general ‘take this world’ sort of imperative, but the Archons were being very specific about some challenges, citing economic variables, foodstuff production, and even allowing him to incorporate slave labor, meat harvesting, and other banned things so long as this was theoretical on the premise that they would prove logistically inadequate anyway. He thought they were trying to teach him a lesson, but as he’d shown them in numerous scenarios, such things did have their uses.

They were learning from him, he knew, but he didn’t know how they were incorporating what they learned into their own civilization. He was kept completely in the dark aside from news updates. There was no coordination. No responsibility placed upon him. Everything was theoretical and could be approached as intensely or cavalierly as one wanted…with him never lacking sufficiently complex tasks to satisfy the demands of his intellect.

In past years he’d often spent an inordinate amount of time rethinking his choices and trying to figure out if there had been an alternative solution that would not have ended with his race being wiped out, but now he’d put that behind him. What was done was done and he couldn’t gain any more insight from additional reflection, and with so many new problems to solve he had allowed himself to disconnect from his former life and embrace where fate had set him.

But he never let go his hatred of the Li’vorkrachnika. He still had an unsettled debt with them. One that would never be fully paid. So when he was given tasks such as this one that involved what the Archons mockingly called ‘lizards’…which he noted they never capitalized as an additional insult…he had a keen interest in squeezing every tidbit of strategy and tactics out of the subject matter so that Star Force could potentially make use of it against them in their purge of their outward territories.

They’d also let him in on the secret of the vastly superior empire in near the galactic core that they must never come into contact with. He hadn’t been given an identity or any specifics, just the reality of the situation. Trusting in the few absolutes they had cited to him, he’d been asked to figure out if there were any other possibilities to deal with the Li’vorkrachnika across the coreward no-go line.

Sadly there were not, as far as with Star Force troops anyway. Proximity to an enemy that must not find you was not something you could fiddle with, and while the line itself was more or less arbitrary, he did agree that there must be one. That meant the Li’vorkrachnika would not be wiped out entirely by Star Force…and if the task were to be done, it had to be done by someone else.

Right now that someone looked to be the Skarrons. The Li’vorkrachnika were getting dangerously close to the regional boundary, at which point he expected some tendril of an assault to meet fierce resistance. If they did then the gains would come to an abrupt halt and it would be up to the invaders to decide how hard they wanted to press. Kirritimin knew what they would do, which made these simulations all the more important. He couldn’t help the Skarrons, nor could he leave this planet given the information that the Director had imparted to him. He’d agreed to that caveat because he needed as much intel as he could get in order to do his job, but right now he almost wished he could go to the Skarrons and help them in their fight against the Li’vorkrachnika.

As for the Preema…they were another possibility that had fallen flat. They had, and were still, killing many of them and would continue to do so well into the future, but they had adopted the same ‘wall of stars’ border that Star Force had and wouldn’t be pursuing the Li’vorkrachnika to their extinction. He speculated it was out of realization rather than trepidation that they’d established their line, for no matter how many worlds they took from the Li’vorkrachnika, they continued to spread to even more making the task of eradicating them seem impossible.

It wasn’t, but tactics had to shift in ways that many did not see or did not condone. Assaults had to be swift and thorough, with the idea of taking a planet completely abandoned. They had to kill and move on, and get so good at it that they would outstrip the Li’vorkrachnika’s ability to regenerate and spread.

Star Force was doing that here, but no one else was and Star Force wasn’t going to go after the coreward territories…at least not obviously. There were the Hradeiti and a few other small programs that they had under way to allow others the beginnings of footholds that they could potentially push out into enemy territory, but none were even worth mentioning in terms of the grand scale that would be required to end this threat once and for all.

That meant the Li’vorkrachnika were going to win…unless the Skarrons took it to them.

He’d been told that there was no communication between the Skarrons and Star Force, but right now the Li’vorkrachnika in the coreward region were partially boxed in by both the Star Force line and the Preema. If the Skarrons pushed them back that direction this nightmare could finally come to an end, but what would make them entertain such notions?

That wasn’t something he could answer with the data in front of him, so he focused on figuring out what could be done in individual star systems with the resources provided to him. More often than not he was allotted too little, but on occasions such as that he knew the task was in finding ways to do more with less…not something he was entirely unfamiliar with after working for the Li’vorkrachnika.

They’d had far more primitive technology than the Fassna, but after a very long war attrition had won in their favor and his homeworld was conquered with him on it. Most of it was savaged, but a piece was preserved and ordered to surrender.

It was then that he’d met his first templar…and from that point on he’d been living in a continual nightmare doing things he never would have done just to keep the surviving Fassna population alive another day.

He’d given them centuries, but it hadn’t been enough. Eventually he’d failed the templars, or more accurately Star Force had succeeded, and that at least was not something he regretted. His people may have been destroyed, but the Li’vorkrachnika were losing far more and he was enjoying each and every report of a new world or system falling to this odd, yet impressive confederacy of dozens of races. Hundreds actually when you counted all the small ones that they attributed their ‘ward’ status, though some of those were actually quite large by this point, having been sheltered and trained by the Humans until they were a force to be reckoned with, the rest of Star Force notwithstanding.

It was a deep shame the Fassna survivors couldn’t have joined them. If they had, they would have more than made up for the kindness of inclusion.

But they had taken him in as an individual and he was going to repay them for that however possible. If they hadn’t discovered him inside that wall with their psionics he would have been dead by now, having withered away in a pain-riddled demise similar to the way his own race had gone out. He was the last of them, but his end would not be the same. No. From this point on there would be only accomplishments, for when his death did eventually come it would not be a loss. Part of him was already gone. He would simply be finishing a past action.

And that gave him a wonderful sense of freedom…and an opportunity to strike back at the Li’vorkrachnika, knowing that they could do nothing worse to him than they’d already done.

And given the locale he was currently living in, he knew he’d never have to see another of their ugly faces again, which was another relief that he owed Star Force for. His life, whatever was left of it, was going to be free of their stench in more ways than one, and many of the tasks the Archons were assigning him didn’t involve the Li’vorkrachnika at all.

Given time, he expected none of them to be as Star Force slowly eradicated them on their side of the boundary line.

A digger variant crawled along a narrow dirt tunnel, its legs pushing hard behind it in order to get the leverage to scrape away another layer of the wall with its four arms using a flat claw-like appendage on each of them. Material rained down on the bone-covered skull and its equally armored back, with it using a row of spikes to dig into the ceiling as it leveraged itself up from time to time.

That material would then be collected by others and moved out, but right now this digger and his twins were traversing the circular tunnel and enlarging it with each pass, pushing out from the machine dug tunnels very close to their objective which they had orders not to disturb more than to scrape away the dirt and rock around it. Right now they were not that close, still making entry passages that would later be reinforced into proper tunnels, but with the sensor-defying material of the target they never knew for sure just how far they had to dig.

So loop after loop came with them getting closer and closer, but this one still hadn’t seen or heard of anyone getting through yet…but when he got about halfway through this tunnel arc he passed by another smaller shaft that was very recently bored as a digger crawled out.

“I have contacted it,” he said, holding up his hands. “I could not damage it, it is so hard.”

“How far?”

“20 meters. It is…” it began to say as the collar-like comm device activated in response to the report he’d just sent.

“Contact made. All diggers report to specified coordinates and begin excavation.”

“Follow and see,” it said, with both of them now being ordered to expand on this site.

The newcomer knelt down and crawled on its legs and lower hands until the one in front of it stopped and a mix of dirt and rock started to come back into its face. In turn it shoved the material under it between its legs and into a new pile that another digger would get to as soon as it arrived.

Inch by inch they progressed, digging forward while sealing themselves in with a loose pile blocking their access but leaving a narrow air gap so they could continue breathing. When the second lizard got to the artificial wall there was now a small room dug out with a very low ceiling that could accommodate three of them tightly, but two would be used so they could have room to maneuver the dirt around and send it back out what was now a chain of diggers funneling it up to the equipment zone that would send it back to the surface and quickly rid these areas of it.

The small chamber was widened until five of the diggers would fit comfortably, then they began raising the ceiling up high enough that they could walk around. At that point the connecting tunnel had been expanded enough to allow for walking as well and more diggers poured in and started carving away much more material…so much so that eventually beams were brought in to produce a box onto which panels were added, creating a bit of a platform for them to work off of.

Slowly that platform was added to as more dirt/rock was removed, with standard variants coming in to further assemble retaining walls that would keep pressure on the surrounding areas to prevent a cave in as more and more of the deep red and smooth structure was revealed. It had an imperceptible curve to it, but otherwise looked like a flat wall that the diggers own claws, which were designed to carve through various forms of rock, could not so much as leave a scratch on.

It would take powerful machines to break through, but they were forbidden to do so until the templar arrived. They were simply to clear the area and erect the necessary structures to allow ease of access down from the surface. That process continued for weeks and nearly a half mile of wall was revealed by the time the templar finally arrived.

The diggers and standard variants moved aside when he arrived with a heavy escort that was made up of mostly maulers but also with a lot of standards with heavy weaponry. Behind them came large walking machines standing 3 meters high and dwarfing the Li’vorkrachnika. They were not of their making and foreign in look and design, but they were with the templar so no one regarded them as being threats.

With them came an alien that walked up to and joined the templar just short of the massive red wall. Most of the diggers continued work on the edges, but a few that were scraping material away from the floor crawled up through the meter-wide gap between support beams and red wall and looked at the newcomers, seeing the templar having a lengthy discussion with the alien. At several points the taller biped’s headtails whipped around angrily, but there was no physical fighting that broke out…with both pairs of body guards waiting nearby to take up action if that were to occur.

The digger knew that if something did happen he needed to run towards the alien and grab at his legs, holding him in place. The walking machines were too big for him to topple, but if several of them were to grab and push on one leg they might be able to take it down, or at least delay it from getting to the templar…though it had what looked like ranged weapons. Still, even if he only lasted 2 seconds into a fight, he could be of some use.

But no fighting was going to break out and eventually the argument settled with the alien pointing above them and to the right with the digger receiving new orders to start expanding in that direction within a minute. As he and the others began to reposition he walked by the templar and alien as they both walked up to the edge, the Li’vorkrachnika standing back a step away from the drop off, but the two headtails shook with a nervous twitch as the alien toed the edge and placed a hand on a structural beam so he could lean out towards the wall.

He put his other hand on the hard red surface as the digger passed nearby and overheard him say a single word when he made physical contact with the artifact.

“Hamoriti.”

Bahamut

1

February 1, 3254

Unnamed System (unclaimed)

Inner Zone

“Whoa,” the sensor officer onboard the Ma’kri scout ship said after the ship finished its deceleration against the giant red star and its sensors straightened themselves out.

“What is it?” the Captain asked quickly, looking to the battlemap as it updated, seeing nothing around the star as of yet.

“Activity around one of the planets. We haven’t had time for sensor echo, but there are so many ships in orbit we can pick them up from stellar radiation alone.”

“Show me.”

A separate display manifested itself in front of Captain Brayden in holo showing a lot of fuzzy signatures, but once the external cameras got the precise location and began filtering in the light and magnifying it he saw a huge fleet of ships in orbit of the planet stretching around it as if they were a massive ring in the making.

But while there were a great deal of lizard ships present, a lot of them were of an entirely different design.

“Engage cloak and get us out of this orbit before they notice us. I want a closer look.”

“Captain, some of those ship profiles match as…”

“…as Sety, I know. What the hell is The Nexus doing all the way out here? This is far beyond their borders.”

“Are the rest of those ships Nexus races?” his comm officer asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. I don’t recognize any of them except the lizards…and last I heard, they were enemies. Something is very wrong here.”

“Captives?”

“Only in one circumstance have the lizards ever surrendered, and those ships are just part of the formation. It doesn’t look like they’ve taken any damage either. Are we getting anything from the planet?”

“Cloud cover over most regions. We’ll have to get close to pull a tight scan or wait for it to blow over.”

“I want a high orbit…very high. Sety sensors might be able to pick us up, and if they’re not in a friendly mood I want plenty of room to run.”

“How can they pick us up if we’re absorbing all signals?” the sensor officer asked.

“Most signals,” he corrected, “and we still make a black silhouette. If they have theirs programmed to pick out such things they could spot us.”

“Have we done that?” the helmsman asked.

“Of course,” the sensor officer replied, a bit offended. “Luckily it doesn’t seem like the lizards have figured that out yet.”

“Course plotted. Confirm?”

The Captain glanced at it, then nodded. “Confirmed. Get us moving.”

Their presence didn’t go unnoticed. Within a few minutes of their appearance at the star there was a detachment of ships that broke off from the group and headed for their last position, but they didn’t seem to be tracking their current trajectory. The Ma’kri made it to the planet and settled into a high orbit where it began observing what was occurring with passive sensors only, and for the moment they appeared to be either ignored or undetected.

“Captain, we’ve got a possible ID on another of those ship types.”

“Possible?”

“We don’t have a sensor profile from any Star Force source, but we do have some data passed onto us from others that suggest some of those vessels might be Trinx.”

“Trinx? I’m not familiar with that race.”

“Files say they’re one of several races within lizard territory that held out. This one apparently far more advanced technologically.”

“Held out or allied with,” the Captain floated, not asking for a response.

“Captain,” another bridge crewer said from an auxiliary station that had also been purposed for sensors. “There’s some sort of construction occurring on the surface.”

“Show me and highlight the location on the battlemap.”

A tiny dot sprung to life on the display, then another virtual window opened in front of his command chair showing the zoomed in visuals through the clouds. They were sketchy, but enough to make out the fine lines of infrastructure in progress…including a massive landing zone with what looked like cargo crates stacked up into small mountains.

“I’m not seeing any grounded ships.”

“None found as yet. Probably convoy drops if they’re coming from The Nexus. It’s a pretty long trip.”

“That it is.”

“Uh oh,” the comm officer said warily.

“I don’t like ‘uh ohs.’ Be specific of how we’re screwed, please.”

“We’ve got an incoming comm message, one what looks like a tight beam.”

The Captain frowned. That meant their location, or at least approximate location, had been discovered.

“What does it say?”

“They’re asking us to open communications and to drop our sensor stealth. They’ve identified us as Star Force.”

“Do we have incoming ships?”

The sensor officer shook his head. “No. But they have parked quite a few in near the star. They may not want us leaving.”

“Keep our cloak up, but send a return signal. Ask the Sety ships specifically what their business is with the lizards.”

Brayden sat back in his seat studying the planet far beneath them and the ships guarding it as he waited for a reply. This was not what he’d expected to find here. He’d been sent to scout this area looking for new lizard activity in the star systems that they’d failed to claim previously, especially with an eye to digging operations, but nothing in his orders had mentioned the possibility of outside interference. This was still technically lizard territory, within their shrinking borders anyway, even if they’d never previously had any interest in the dead system.

This planet’s atmosphere read as negligible, and the other six had none at all. Lizards typically didn’t take airless worlds without a very good reason, and they couldn’t survive on this one without breathing gear so it was no wonder why they’d passed it over, but something really important was happening here, especially given the tech levels of the ships along with them that he was being updated on as the crew got to work on a fine analysis of the passive scans and began making guesses to their equipment.

The Sety ships were easy to identify. They were The Nexus’s biggest and best warships, and a lot of them were here too, which was even more odd because he’d been led to believe that The Nexus was overstretched militarily…so what was so damn important for them to send a nice chunk of their badly needed fleet outside their territory and into the lizards’ back yard?

“Captain, they say they’ve claimed this system and that Star Force and its allies are to remain outside of it. The lizards here are under their protection.”

“Are they now? Ask them if this protection applies to other nearby systems, and ask them if they are still at war with the lizards on the H’kar border.”

Another long wait ensued, and it wasn’t due to comm lag.

“They say this system alone is their concern. The rest are not. They didn’t answer about the H’kar.”

“Drop the cloak and begin doing full sensors scans of everything. Helm, be ready to get us on the best available jumpline out of the system the moment I give the word. Comm, ask them what message they’d like us to give our leaders when we return, and make it clear that they’re not going to take any alliance with the lizards well.”

Suddenly the sensor feeds intensified in detail…and just as suddenly a grouping of 27 ships detached from the ring around the planet and began lazily heading towards them. They got about a tenth of the way to them when the reply finally came in.

“They say a representative has already been dispatched to our capitol system and that any questions regarding this system be taken up with him. We are to leave now or be escorted out of the system. Our presence here will not be tolerated.”

“What do the files say about the speed of those Sety ships?”

“Um…pretty good. Maybe a touch faster than us. Hard to say.”

“Helm, feel like living dangerously?”

The blonde man smiled ironically. “Where would you like me to dive?”

“I want a close in scan on our way out, but it’ll have to be at really high speed to stay away from them. They’ll probably break like a swarm of wasps when we head in, so give me a good route.”

“Working on it.”

“Comm, when we begin moving inform them that we’re heading out of the system, but that we’re doing a flyby to give our leaders enough information to know what questions to ask their representative.”

“Right after?”

“Give us a head start, but transmit well before we get close to those approaching ships…and by ‘close’ I mean far, far away, right helm?”

“You want me to skim far, far away?”

“Exactly. What’s the problem?” the Captain said deadpan.

“None at all,” the helmsman replied in a matching tone. “Give me a couple minutes to finesse the course and we should be ready to go.”

“Good. Then when we’re past the planet we run like hell. Make sure we get some damn good scans of the surface and those unidentified ships.”

“I can’t get the entire planet on one pass without them intercepting us.”

“Then just get us over those coordinates where they’re building and the surrounding area. Poke in, poke out.”

A moment of silence followed, then the helmsman signaled he was ready. “How’s this?”

The Captain looked over his high speed course projections carefully, seeing that this could get dicey if those ships were a lot faster than them, but once they got past their scanning point they could reengage the cloak and that would make it damn hard for them to follow if they began evasive maneuvering…and the Ma’kri had plenty of fuel to work with.

“Looks good. Let’s go.”

2 days later…

The Sety envoy fleet came out of its jump in near to the yellow star at the heart of the Solar System with some 12 other vessels in its wake. None were Sety, but all were members of the The Nexus and heavily armed, for they’d learned long ago that undertaking diplomatic missions never meant one was safe, and with ships being in such short supply you were more likely to lose a few if you only sent a few, thus it was more practical to send groups in order to avoid losses.

When the Sety vessel emerged out of its deceleration haze the commander crackled as his tree-like body twisted with shock. He had expected a decent amount of traffic and defenses for a civilization the size of Star Force, and while the traffic was actually lower than he would have guessed, the defenses were anything but.

There were huge defense stations everywhere around the star, spread out so there would be at least one or two within weapons range of every incoming jumpline. Further in next to the star was a construct far larger and barely visible within the radiative haze, making its weapons capability indeterminate, but it was the sheer number of ships present around the star alone that shocked the Sety. They’d been getting war updates from the H’kar, so they knew what type of numbers that Star Force fielded in their invasions of the Li’vorkrachnika systems and what they’d mounted to take down their capitol, but there were far more than that here.

He’d expected most of their fleet to be deployed into enemy-held areas pushing their campaign, but it seemed they were not nearly as overextended as the Sety had suspected. Not at all it seemed, for additional fleets began popping up on sensors in groups staggered out from the star, in addition to even more defense stations…and their sensors hadn’t yet reached one of their visible planets.

And those ships didn’t sit still, for as soon as The Nexus envoy arrived they began redeploying closer, not on an intercept course but what looked like bracketing moves that would diminish the their navigating options.

Perhaps they should have announced they were coming prior to arrival.

“Transmit this message immediately on their diplomatic frequencies,” Hirtor said as he walked up behind the ship’s commander. “We are here on a diplomatic mission from The Nexus regarding the opening of formal relations and the establishment of a proper embassy. We await navigation coordinates.”

Davis walked into one of Atlantis’s larger conference rooms along with a Duke and an Archon mage, finding it already filled with some 32 individuals from the Nexus, only one of which was Sety. The others were representatives from their larger members with the H’kar not included. He didn’t know if that was a snub or simply an indication of how low they ranked within their civilization, but given Star Force’s long history and continued wartime cooperation with them it seemed highly irregular to leave them out of whatever business The Nexus had here.

They hadn’t announced they were coming, but Davis had suspected a move like this for some time and the warning systems within his empire had sent word ahead through the relay network tracking their small fleet so he’d had some notification that they were coming. Still, they were trying to throw their weight around, but he could feel a lot of anxiety amongst them right now despite his still infantile psionic skills.

They didn’t expect such a powerful system defense, the mage told him as they walked towards the large ovoid table. They’re worrying that their estimates of our strength were underreported and they might not have as much leverage as they were expecting.

Thank you, he said, glad to have a much keener reading of them to work off of, as well as the ability to talk telepathically. Sure as hell beat glances and facial twitches, and he was pretty sure that neither the Dsevmat nor the other two telepathic races present could sense when they were using their private mental communications channel.

“You’ve come a long way,” Davis said in The Nexus common language that he’d learned long ago, though he sensed that put them off balance right away, for they’d come here expecting to speak English, “and didn’t bother to tell us beforehand. You’re lucky we don’t shoot interloping ships on sight. This system is closed to public travel within our territory. All diplomatic contacts typically go to Epsilon Eridani. But as long as you’re here, tell me why you’ve come…specifically,” he added as he sat down last of the three Humans.

“We have had dealings before,” the Dsevmat answered. “Beneficial, even if some at the time believed otherwise. We believe we can have more beneficial outcomes if we integrate your civilization into our network.”

“Annexation?”

“Depends on how you define that word. We are not offering membership, but rather an interlinking across the rapidly shrinking mass of Li’vorkrachnika territory. We believe the establishment of formal relations and integrated travel and trade would be mutually beneficial.”

“We have no wish or need for a grid point within our territory,” Davis said firmly. “If you wish to establish one on our border you’re more than welcome to do so, but such would be your expense and responsibility for maintaining it.”

Half The Nexus envoys visible twitched, but it was the Telmar that spoke next.

“It is inappropriate for you to use your telepathy here.”

“On my own world? It is inappropriate for you to dictate to me what to do on my own world,” Davis replied icily. “You would use your telepathic abilities to read me if you could, but ours are more formidable so you complain that such use is inappropriate. You are a hypocrite, and I do not care for dealing with hypocrites. If you wish to negotiate something with me, do it bluntly and respectfully. I have no care for lies or trivialities. You wanted us to fund the creation of a grid point in our territory and give you free travel passes throughout our territory. That is not going to happen.”

“Are you against formal relations?” a mouse-like Jpqwel asked.

“Formal relations could have been entered into long ago, but you didn’t deem us worthy of your time. We’ve been working with one of your members closely in a matter of mutual interest…yet the H’kar are not here. Why?”

“They are junior.”

“And yet Star Force already has more than formal relations with them. Why? Because they did not snub us. If you seek to come to mutually beneficial arrangements, you need to stop pretending to be dominant. I know a great deal more about you than the reverse, though it seems you got a lesson upon entering this system. I can establish separate relations with each of your nations if wished, or you can deal for the entire Nexus here and now. But whatever you choose, do not think that your thoughts are your own. If you wanted to shield your minds from us we would be having this discussion via hologram. You came here, before me, so do not insult me by giving me orders…let alone absurd ones.”

“Our apologies,” the Sety finally spoke. “As you’ve said, we know far less about you than we’d like, and that is perhaps our fault for not taking advantage of the openness you’ve developed with the H’kar. None the less, we are here now and wish to learn more. Given your growing engine power, commerce can be achieved via slower travel than the grid point system, but we still offer that possibility if you should wish to reconsider it later. It is the fastest way to link our economies.”

“And what do you hope to gain from such a linkage?”

“A great many things, and as you wish to be blunt I will tell you. You have become a stabilizing force in this galactic arm, and while your territory is small in comparison to ours I have no doubt it will continue to grow, as will your calming influence. We would greatly like to have a stable border.”

“There are still a great number of Li’vorkrachnika between us and you.”

“Which it appears you will deal with in time…and our apologies for not having done more from the other side. The H’kar are getting some additional support from us, but given the size of our domain our ships are needed in many places. We will continue to push back on our current border, but if and when the two meet we wish it to be as friends rather than strangers.”

“That can be arranged easily enough. We’re already friends with the H’kar.”

“We also are interested, on behalf of certain members, in the possibility of trading for some of the now empty systems that you have taken in battle. If you do not intend on inhabiting them yourselves, there are those that wish to purchase select ones for their own use.”

“To fall under Nexus domain or my own?”

“That is one detail of many that we have come here to inquire about.”

Davis looked at the Sety, then in turn made eye or head contact with every one of the other races present, knowing that there were far more members in The Nexus than were here.

“Then let me say this. Star Force is fair. If you come to us and seek to negotiate honestly then we will listen. We might not always accommodate you, but we will listen. As far as interlinking our economies, there are many possible ways to do that, and several that I will not permit. If you wish to interact with my civilization you will do so on my terms, and as I said, we’re fair. We don’t seek to steal or cheat, and if you can benefit from fair dealings then there is a great deal for us to discuss…and I will say, that it is a discussion that has been long overdue.”

2

March 21, 3254

Krachnika System (occupation zone)

Michra

Paul’s dropship landed on the lizard planet again, coming down into a wide courtyard rather than one of the spaceports that Thrawn had rebuilt, and the pink armor-clad Archon walked out to find the largest of all the lizards waiting for him with his typical escorts bracketing his robed body.

“Due to your quick return I assume you have an urgent matter to discuss,” the mastermind said, looking into the opaque helmet that only at the last moment retracted to show the Human’s displeased face.

“We discovered the destination of the diggers, approximately where you suggested. An unclaimed system showing recent activity.”

“What were they recovering?”

“I don’t know. Our ship couldn’t take a close look, let alone send a team down to the surface,” Paul said as he produced a hologram between them showing the planet and the mass of ships above it. “They weren’t alone.”

“I recognize only one grouping of these vessels. They are Trinx, an enemy of the Li’vorkrachnika that we were never able to eliminate. The others are unknown to me.”

“We know of one other, called the Sety. They lead The Nexus, but the others are not Nexus members. And they’re all in league with the Li’vorkrachnika and ordered our ship out of the system. When it moved in for a closer look on its way out it was even fired upon, but easily outran the pursuit when they didn’t chase it far beyond the planet. They don’t want us there, and it has to do with this object.”

Paul zoomed in on the subsurface scan the Ma’kri had taken, which revealed little beyond solid rock and the tunneling that had been done recently by the lizards, for their infrastructure was showing in multiple locations plus a scattering of other add-ons not of their making.

“Look closely, and you’ll see the sensor readings are faked. It’s fortunate that we got even this little variation,” he said as he adjusted the display to highlight the region that was being hidden…an egg shape that extended for some 60 miles tip to tip.

“I have no knowledge of this,” the mastermind said.

“How often do you cooperate with other races?”

“Only when we have a specific need. It is likely that their new allies identified this location, otherwise it would have been discovered long ago. Show me which system it is in.”

Paul threw up a starmap and the lizard became more certain.

“We have nothing there and never have. They would not be investigating that worthless planet unless they were told to.”

“These races are far stronger than the Li’vorkrachnika. They wouldn’t need their assistance if they wanted this planet. They can move about at will. Why would they involve them?”

“The presence of the diggers suggest that they did not come straight to the planet. They had the Li’vorkrachnika locate this hidden object for them and have now come to claim it. Perhaps they did not know exactly what system it was in, and they have been searching for it in many places.”

“That sounds feasible, but I didn’t think you guys were all that generous.”

“We’re not. There must have been additional factors. How advanced are these ships?”

“Very.”

“More so than yours?”

Paul cracked a smile. “In some ways yes, in some ways no.”

“Even fight then?”

“Given that we’ve never seen 8 of these races fight we’re guessing, but they all look to be very elite…meaning that whatever this is down there is damn important.”

“While this could be a recent occurrence, there is the possibility that this was a continuation of a previous relationship that I was not aware of.”

“The tech upgrades?”

“It would make sense. We could not match your technological progression, thus another source beyond our own research was located. They could have struck a deal that involved searching for whatever this is. That fleet arrangement suggests cooperation, not enslavement. They are partners in this endeavor.”

Anger rose within Paul at the thought of the Sety feeding the lizards tech improvements…and then there was The Nexus’s reluctance to squash them like a bug when they were giving the H’kar all they could handle.

“Have you seen any other inklings of this?”

“The additional shipyard ring you mentioned. It was kept from my knowledge with no apparent reason. Coreward assets were supposed to be secret so you could not learn of them when you overtook us here, but anything of that size in the original holdings I should have known about.”

“Why would they need to build ships?”

“Find the location and see for yourself.”

“We know the location…we think, but it’s a long ways off and didn’t want to bother with it until we could get our supply lines closer. Taking you guys down requires a lot of material expenditure.”

“In exchange for your lack of personnel expenditure.”

“Yes. Something I think you’re starting to learn.”

“So why not send a scout?”

“Because until now I didn’t think it was anything special, at least nothing that could match the core worlds we still have to take down. But if it’s related to whatever this is,” Paul said, pointing at the hologram of the planet, “then we’d better take a look.”

“Population,” the mastermind said, knowing that Paul would be inside his head.

“And ships to carry them where needed.”

“It is our greatest asset…and one that technologically advanced races might require.”

“Trading your lives for tech?”

“Until recently I would not have objected. They are a commodity.”

“And now?”

“If I were them I’d still make such a trade, for more could be accomplished from it. I can assure you that these are allies of necessity, and that there is no trust between them. Without their tech the templars know they are subject to a slaughter if they turn against them, and the only way to close that gap is by advancing their own technology, slowly through research, or quicker by trade. The lives of a small fraction of the population, which can be easily replaced, are more valuable than what they would be in combat against those same races.”

“Numerically I can agree with you. If you’re going to die, do it in a way that most hurts your enemy.”

“Yet?”

“Hard to say without knowing what deal they’ve arranged, but some of the options going through my head are downright disgusting.”

“What point is there in existing if you betray your purpose to accomplish it?”

“Something like that. You’ve had a change of mind since we last spoke?” Paul inquired, picking up on something else within the lizard’s mind.

“This world will fill up soon, and despite my efforts to increase capacity via infrastructure and your population control stipulations, we will exceed capacity before I am done conscripting worlds.”

“I know that.”

“And I doubt that I will get the answers I need from the templars if they are all gone from this region, unless those answers are somehow hidden within me. I cannot wait to learn their intent, I must have a course of action. Preserving and reorganizing those here is but a means to an unspecified end.”

“And what end have you determined?”

“What end do you wish for us?”

“You want to fight?”

“A worthy fight, yes. If our own judgement has been imperiled by these genetic blocks, then you could bypass that deficiency by choosing the fight for us.”

“Fighting just to fight is another means to an unspecified end. It doesn’t answer the question of purpose.”

“My purpose is to serve, to accomplish goals given to me. That is why I exist. Until recently those goals always held merit, now I am questioning their true veracity. I need to be accomplishing something real. No more lies or misdirection. What do you intend for us?”

“For the short term, containment. Beyond that is a wait and see.”

“You’ve surely considered options.”

“But haven’t settled on any yet.”

“We are bred to work, and while I can keep the minions busy with varied tasks I cannot do so with myself. Now I have work to do, but once the repair of this world is complete and it is filled with inhabitants that have no purpose, this civilization in a containment cell will unravel, and I first among it. I have known this was coming but forestalled acknowledgement of that fact because I did not know the truth of the templars. What knowledge they possess is critical in how I am to proceed…but the fact is I do not think I will know of them in time. I have to work, else I will self-destruct. This is not something I have encountered before, but it is a very real doom I am seeing on the horizon.”

“There is an old saying from my homeworld. A tiny, but powerful empire once said that it must expand or die, for all it knew was to conquer and grow. It could not maintain.”

“I am not designed to maintain save for that function in relation to a greater purpose.”

“Nor am I. We are constantly training and growing more powerful. Individually as well as an empire.”

“Could you handle not improving?”

“No, I couldn’t. Setbacks that I could fight against are one thing, but stagnation is an enemy that I will not allow to exist. I am entirely incompatible with it.”

“And what fate would you have us see?” the mastermind asked, and Paul could feel him almost pleading.

He didn’t answer for several seconds, looking him over visually and mentally. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but the stronger I grow, the wiser I become, the less I feel like I belong in this galaxy. Or rather, there’s nothing wrong with the galaxy itself, but the people in it become less recognizable. I am so far beyond most of them that it is like my success is ostracizing me. I have to become better than them in order to protect them, but it leaves me alone with a very short list of peers…and as others rise to that peer group I am leaving it behind at the same or faster rate. Unless I stop advancing I will never be one of them.”

“That’s just part of the job,” Paul continued. “And for you it’s similar. You have billions of your kin with you on this planet, but they are all beneath you in terms of skill and knowledge. There are no other masterminds here, and you’ve even said that you never interacted without exceptional need. The only peers you came in contact with were the templars…but you didn’t see them as peers, you saw them as superiors. They gave you a purpose. A place. I have no superiors within Star Force, unfortunately, so I have to chart my own course.”

“And now that I have none, I must chart my own as well?”

Paul spread his arms wide, gesturing to the planet around them. “You control one of the most densely populated planets in this region of the galaxy. There is so much here to do that most people would be overwhelmed. You’re so good at it that it almost bores you, and that gives you time to look around and ask yourself…what is the point of all of this? In the past, following the orders of the templars was your point. It was your purpose. You didn’t have to think beyond that and you consumed yourself in carrying out those orders. You were a facilitator, not a leader. Not a trailblazer, anyway. There’s a significant difference between the two.”

“I was not designed for that.”

“No, but you are intelligent enough to become one. You already have in some respects.”

“I have no wish to be one. And what changes you have seen are me identifying weaknesses and addressing them. They are inefficiencies and therefore must be eliminated. That does nothing for me with regards to setting goals, only in achieving them.”

“I didn’t always know my purpose. At least I never understood it in the beginning. I’d get bits and pieces of meaning out of various things, but it wasn’t until I was past 300 years that it truly dawned on me why I exist. It’s not something I decided, or swore an oath to. And it’s not genetically encoded, I can assure you of that. It’s what happens when I see something bad happen. An injustice. When I observe one something inside of me snaps. I cannot tolerate it. It is instinctual, and in that moment I have a purpose. Whether it to be to prevent something bad from occurring, or occurring again, or avenging that which took place. I cannot…will not, tolerate injustice. It’s the very fiber of my being that makes me incompatible with it. This is something I had to learn, but something that I always knew from the beginning of my existence.”

“That’s what you mean by ‘peacekeeper’ then?”

“An inadequate word for a very real motivation that I cannot fully articulate.”

“And what happens when you don’t have an injustice to deal with?”

“I train to increase my power so that the next big one I encounter I can deal with.”

“And if all threats in the galaxy are neutralized, what do you do then?”

Paul shrugged. “Travel to another galaxy.”

“And if all conflict everywhere was ended. All was at peace. What then?”

“I don’t think I’d have a reason to exist.”

“That is the doom approaching me.”

“You said you wanted to fight…why exactly?”

“To do something of worth rather than simply sitting here and existing.”

“But is it fighting or killing?”

The mastermind considered that. “To fight against an opponent and achieve victory. That does not always involve killing. It is the act of accomplishing something worthwhile that is what drives me. The means to do so are immaterial.”

“Define worthwhile.”

“I cannot. I know it when I see it, but I cannot define it.”

“You’ve tried before?”

“Many times. To me it had always been carrying out the templars’ orders. Now when I seek an alternative I cannot fabricate one. No matter what I try it always ends up hollow and does not match my drive.”

“You are a soldier who is interested in fighting a war, not picking a war.”

“It is the challenge itself that drives me…so long that there is cause behind it. Challenge without cause is a waste of time.”

“We call that training.”

“Your training has a cause.”

“But we train by facing challenges without causes in order to practice them via experience. We create meaningless challenges just to spite them. You can’t learn spite without an opponent, and if you wait for real ones you’re going to usually be inadequate to the task.”

“Yet underneath it all you still have a purpose.”

“Yes, but therein lies a difference. You want something real every time. You don’t want training. You want to fight and ascend through combat and experience gained. That’s how all of you have existed for your entire lives.”

“All needed knowledge is given via genetic memories.”

“Not all. You’ve gained a lot of experience that wasn’t given to you.”

“Most then.”

“I have a fellow peer that thinks somewhat like you. She doesn’t dislike training, but would prefer actual combat to it if possible…though real combat often isn’t challenging enough for her, so she has to create challenges sufficient to push her limits.”

“Therein we are alike, though I did not have that luxury. Here on Michra, before you arrived, there was no combat. My tasks generated troops and ships that would be sent out to fight, so it was not without merit, but such things are well beneath my limits.”

“So you need to feel challenged?”

“I would prefer it. Need is not required so long as I am serving…my civilization.”

“And it comes back to that again. That core purpose you’re lacking.”

“So it seems.”

Paul sighed, and suddenly the standard variant Li’vorkrachnika flanking the mastermind froze in his peripheral vision. He turned at the minor, but significant alteration, staring at them for a moment before look back at the Human.

“What have you done?”

“They can’t hear us anymore. Nor will they remember anything. They’re asleep yet frozen in place while I control them. I have something to tell you that they can never know. And I need your word on that.”

“Keeping secrets from them is easy enough.”

“None can know, not even a few details. This is for you and you alone.”

“Agreed.”

“You asked what I would do if there were no longer any threats. The truth is, I’ve never had to worry about that. I’ve got more to deal with than I can handle, and that’s not going to change any time soon.”

3

“Your dominance over the Li’vorkrachnika is not at issue. It is simply a matter of time until your victory is complete.”

“You’ve been the most immediate threat for a long time, but you’ve never been the biggest threat.”

“The Nexus?”

“No. Not even close.”

The mastermind stared at him for a long moment. “Something towards the core that you do not want to encroach upon? That’s why you will go no further?”

“I have known,” Paul began, knowing that what he was doing was a calculated risk, “since the first day that I chose to begin training to become an Archon that a war was coming. I didn’t know when or how, and I still don’t, but it is going to happen. A war that will make the conflict between Star Force and the Li’vorkrachnika seem inconsequential. A war that I could not win, and one that I have worked every day of my life since to close the gap to the point where we might just be able to survive…not win, but survive when it comes to pass. That has been my purpose. It is our purpose. Most of Star Force does not know of this, only the leaders, but it is the reason we created the original organization that then grew into an empire.”

“What is this threat?”

“They are called the V’kit’no’sat, and are a conglomeration of races that dominate the core of this galaxy. My homeworld was once on the furthest edge of their empire. They do not conquer and consume every system like the Li’vorkrachnika do. They pick and choose their targets, then ignore the rest so long as they do not get in their way. They do not conquer those who are pathetic and inconsequential, so they have come to dominate half this galaxy…but a rebellion occurred from one of the member races and the empire contracted. My homeworld was razed in the fighting and subsequently abandoned.”

“I am descended from Zen’zat,” he explained as the mastermind listened intently, lots of lingering questions about Star Force suddenly being resolved. “They are a servant variant of a race called Ter’nat. Ter’nat are the lowest members of the V’kit’no’sat and are kept as breeding material to spawn Zen’zat. They are individuals who prove themselves worthy and swear their allegiance to serve the other races. They are given powers Ter’nat do not possess, and are forbidden from reproducing.”

“When my homeworld was abandoned, somehow there were a few Zen’zat left behind. We don’t know how, but they were my ancestors and the knowledge of the V’kit’no’sat and the abilities given to the Zen’zat were lost over time. Until we made a discovery that opened our eyes to the truth and the potential within us.”

“Your technology…you are not developing it, you are rediscovering it?”

“Yes, though that is far harder than it sounds. The V’kit’no’sat are extremely advanced in all categories. If they came back today we would not be able to defeat them. We might cause them some damage, but it would not be a fair fight. And understand when I say that the penalty for Zen’zat breeding is death…for those that did the breeding, and all their offspring.”

“Your entire race is under a death sentence?”

“Every Human within Star Force, yes. We are all descended from those original Zen’zat who were left behind. If the V’kit’no’sat discover we still exist, or simply come back to reclaim their lost colony world, we will all be destroyed. Most likely the other races within Star Force would be as well, perhaps even our allies. They will purge us from existence, for all the races within the V’kit’no’sat cannot leave. You are part of the group, or you are destroyed. There is no middle ground. No rogue factions. The V’kit’no’sat do not suffer rivals in any way, shape, or form. If we are discovered, we are dead.”

“Why entrust me with this knowledge? If I were able to get word to the other Li’vorkrachnika they could simply find these overlords and bring them down upon you, then they could reclaim all the worlds you have taken from them.”

“You have no transmitters here, but it is possible you could find a way to slip something away when outside this system. Do you want to do that?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that question, otherwise you would not have told me.”

“You said you needed a purpose. Everything the Li’vorkrachnika have built, conquered, and expanded into is for naught if the V’kit’no’sat mark them. Grow too powerful and they will take you down. Granted, they’re a long way from even poking up into their vision, but the Li’vorkrachnika will never conquer this galaxy. Not even close. The templars may be ambitious, but there are other races out there beyond the V’kit’no’sat that they will not be able to touch. If they simply want to expand to expand they will not be able to do so indefinitely, and should they be stupid enough to attack one of the greater powers they will do to them what we are doing, only far worse. They will not fight honorably. We have the means to generate biological weapons that could easily wipe out the population of your worlds without us having to invade, but we don’t fight that way. Others would.”

The mastermind regarded him quizzically. “You have weapons that could easily destroy us, yet you do not use them? For what purpose do you have those weapons?”

“We have the ability to create them, but have not.”

“Still, why risk your own troops, a few of which have died, when you could have prevented it, let alone the massive amount of resources you have expended?”

“Do you not already know by this point?” Paul asked.

“No, I do not. You have regarded the preservation of your own troops as your highest priority. Why lose some of them and give us time to grow and spread when you could more quickly defeat us?”

“Not defeat. Destroy. Why did I not kill you?”

“I still wonder about that. I know your stated reasons, but something about them never fully rang true.”

“We do not kill you because we want to. We kill you in order to stop you. If we can do so via other methods, then we will.”

“Surrender. This is all about giving us a chance to surrender. You’ve prolonged this war to give us a chance to live, one that we would never take. Are you insane or clever beyond my reasoning?”

“We are honorable. And we will not hold every Li’vorkrachnika responsible for the actions of the others. To do so would be…”

“Inaccurate.”

“Yes.”

“You kill those who deserve it, not their kin.”

“That’s another way of putting it.”

“Yet you spared me when I was the one giving the orders opposing you.”

“Sometimes the past must be avenged. Sometimes it must be let go. Are you still a threat to me?”

“If I was you would have killed me by now.”

“Then if your threat has been eliminated, I have succeeded in my mission. Your destruction was never the goal.”

“But yours is, by these overlords of yours.”

“Yes it is, or would be, if they knew we existed.”

“And they are not honorable, so you do not wish to emulate them?”

“There is a mix of honor and dishonor within them. More of the latter, but they are not wholly degenerate. I have no illusions of negotiating with them. They are compulsively loyal and arrogant. More so than even you. When they place a death mark, they will not be swayed from it. And the more resistance given the more it will galvanize them…and they have far more worlds to draw power from than Star Force and the Li’vorkrachnika combined. Each of which is in itself wholly superior.”

“Your entire civilization exists under a mark of death, and yet you pursue honorable goals rather than mere survival. You compromise that which matters most in order to see to the needs of others?”

“Our survival is not in our power to control, but even if it was, yes, we will fight honorably.”

“Would you ever use these more efficient killing weapons if needed? Under any circumstance?”

“Honor does not lie in the weapons, but how they are used in the given situation. In theory there might be a time and a place for them, but never where we initiate the combat.”

“Defensive vengeance then?”

“Possibly. If we are to die, we will die honorably, but that doesn’t mean we won’t take as many of them with us as possible.”

“Within the bounds of honor?”

“We won’t harm those who do not deserve it in order to strike at those who do.”

“Suddenly I find we have more in common that I allowed for. You will fight like us when the circumstances are correct, and you will not surrender?”

“Even if the V’kit’no’sat gave us that option, no, I would not.”

“And the others?”

“The average person might. The Archons will not.”

“You will fight to the death?”

“We won’t seek death, but we will not submit.”

“So in that, we are alike.”

“We don’t engage in suicide attacks.”

“If your death was assured, would you not ram your warship into your enemy?”

“If death is assured, then it’s not suicide. It’s a choice of how to die and to do as much damage to the enemy as possible before you do.”

“We have long assumed you did not have the fortitude to do what was necessary. Then when we began losing to you we tried to study you to determine why. Technological progress was evident, but there was always something else in play, tactics wise. Now I think I finally understand what it was. You were holding yourselves back rather than being incompetent. Reserving certain methods of fighting for situations you deemed honorable. I imagine that is a mistake many of your enemies have made.”

“A few. The Li’vorkrachnika found us when we were very weak. Had it not been for the Hycre’s intervention we probably would have been destroyed. We needed time to grow and they gave it to us.”

“And you have repaid them with the gift of weaponry and the return of their worlds?”

“Yes.”

“But you did not annex them?”

“We only forcibly annex those who are our enemies…if we so choose.”

“But that is not what you want from us?”

“No. Like I said, given access to your genetic material, we could have done that a long time ago.”

“Yet we have one advantage that you do not, as far as my information tells me.”

“And that is?”

“We are born with genetic memory and are functional immediately. Your young take time to develop, including your Bsidd. We can expand faster and more effectively.”

“You expand with inexperienced units. I will grant they have more immediate effect than our younglings ever could, but over the course of time ours will exceed yours.”

“But it’s an advantage you could have incorporated by annexing us. So why didn’t you?”

“There are many ways in which to fight. We prefer some methods over others, and your type of colony building, while effective, doesn’t suit our methods. You risk your personnel too much, but you gain from that risk in many occasions. We put our experienced troops in harm’s way while we protect the young long enough that they can become experienced. Your method is the reverse.”

“Given the threat the galaxy faces, weak units, no matter how many, are pointless. So you have engineered your combat forces to face an unbeatable opponent rather than tooling them to face more immediate threats?”

“Partly true.”

“And you believe our suicide attacks would not be affective against them?”

“Nothing you have will be effective against them.”

“If you were to implement them?”

Paul sighed. “They’ve been around for millions of years, and have grown quite accustomed to people trying to take them down. They’ve developed technology to block a lot of suicide attempts.”

“Which you have implemented.”

“They have far more.”

“Are they as concerned with maintaining their troops as you are?”

“No. But they find retraining new ones to be tedious, so they take care not to lose them unless absolutely needed.”

“They will still spend their lives if necessary?”

“Their collective ego is more valuable to them.”

“Yet you have never met them?”

“We recovered extensive records, so we know them well enough to be certain of their response.”

“Why not abandon your world and travel far from it so they will never find you? If their empire is in the core, flee to the rim and be rid of them.”

“That option was discussed, but before we had the industrial muscle to make such a move the Li’vorkrachnika became a problem and we needed every asset we had on the homeworld just to survive you.”

“Once you finish conquering this half of our territory, you will begin to move your people away?”

“No, we won’t.”

“Why stay?”

“You tell me.”

“You won’t abandon the races you’ve annexed into your empire. You’ve taken responsibility for a large number of star systems and you won’t relinquish it for fear of what would happen to them if you did. But why not evacuate them all with you?”

“If the V’kit’no’sat learn of our existence, they will not stop hunting us until we are found and destroyed, no matter where we go. We could hide, we’re smart enough to do that, but we would lose so much of our powerbase in such a transition that it would put our efforts to upgrade our empire so far behind that we would lose too much. If the V’kit’no’sat come back tomorrow that logic will seem stupid, but we’ve been operating under it since day 1. We don’t know when or if they’ll find us, and we’re using all the time we have to try and grow strong enough to survive them.”

“But you cannot?”

“We have fallback plans, but if it comes to that, we will not go quietly.”

“How long have they been absent?”

“Oddly, it was right at 100 millennia when we discovered our true history. Add another one on since then.”

The mastermind grew more serious. “This is a very old empire then. Why do you think they have not returned in such a span of time?”

“We don’t know how badly the rebellion hurt them…but there is another matter. What the V’kit’no’sat was originally formed for. There are massive creatures that inhabit the deep core known as Hadarak. They are themselves warships and prefer to live within deep gravity wells. They are a plague on the galaxy and continually push outward to devour worlds…not whole, but they do massive damage. The V’kit’no’sat were created to oppose them and hold them back within a containment line. They never figured out how to destroy them within the gravity wells, so all they can do is fight and kill those that come too far out, and it is a task they have never shied from. That duty, along with the outcome of the rebellion, is probably why they have not pushed the boundaries of their empire back to their heights.”

“Do you know where their border is now?”

“The other side of Skarron territory.”

“Far from your homeworld then.”

“Thankfully, yes.”

“For my entire life I have thought we were superior. I knew there were races beyond us, but it was assumed that given enough time we would achieve their level of technology and surpass it. Even before then we would be able to overcome them with numbers and tactics. And now you tell me that we have been fools this entire time? We are not dominant…we are not even relevant?”

“No, you’re not. And even Star Force’s technology level wouldn’t draw their attention if it weren’t for our death mark.”

“How many more years do you require before you can attain what they had in their past?”

“It’s been uncertain from the beginning. We relearn some aspects quicker than others. A few hundred years, perhaps another millennia.”

“And then it will still not be a fair fight?”

“We have no way of knowing how much further they have advanced, but even if they did not, they have numbers that we cannot contend with.”

“Some of which much contain these beasts?”

“Some, but they would have no trouble rousing enough to overwhelm us.”

“If they knew your strength. If they underestimated it, they would send too few and you would stand a chance of a short victory. Over time they would send more, then you would be in an untenable position. Evacuation prior to their discovery of you is your only long term solution.”

“That’s what the reality of the situation is.”

“And yet you stay.”

“The only way we can best them is to best them,” Paul said dubiously. “Not with numbers, but with quality. We have to be better than them, and we’re not going to get better by hiding out and running. As you well know, war experience is extremely valuable. Theoretical simulations can only take you so far.”

“And?”

“Doing the right thing can’t be postponed. There are people here, now, who need our help. We won’t sacrifice them in the short term to extend the long term concerns. If we are to die, we will die with honor as protectors…not fleeing survivors who would abandon others to grim fates to preserve ourselves.”

“Your affinity for death over dishonor is the same as our own, except ours seems to have been twisted.”

“And yet you are untwisting it.”

“With your considerable assistance.”

“You needed a nudge. But only you could decide to think and not slit your throat as all the others have done or would do.”

“I tried, but you took my claws.”

“And after you grew them back?”

“By then I had time to think.”

“And what are you thinking now with regards to your honor?”

“It has been vested in following the orders of the templars, but it has always been to our civilization. The templars are the embodiment of it. Through them we grow, defend ourselves, and bring order to a chaotic galaxy.”

“By killing all of the people in it?”

“I would blame the blocks, but in truth I should have seen the futility of that long ago.”

“That’s what the blocks are there to do…keep you from seeing things.”

“We are meant to be protectors. I can feel it now. As you said, untwisting that which was in us all along. We are meant to fight. To fight for a purpose.”

“And the templars?”

“The more I learn the more I believe they have deliberately corrupted that purpose to their own gains, so much so that I do not know what it is. It is there, though, just outside the reach of my mind. Your honor runs parallel to it.”

“And combat clarifies it?”

“Without full understanding, yes, it seems to.”

Paul closed his eyes for a moment, still mentally holding in check the other lizards around them. “Then observe the true enemy and tell me what your hidden purpose drives you to do.”

Suddenly there was a flood of images and knowledge pouring into the mastermind’s thoughts. They didn’t stop coming, more and more until he lost track of the time as his superior intellect rapidly soaked them up as he came to see the V’kit’no’sat for what they truly were, race for race, battle after battle.

The Hadarak, the Zen’zat, the Zak’de’ron who they overthrew. Millennia after millennia holding the deep core border and expanding their empire outward. The arrogance, the superiority, the unflinching loyalty…and the horrors they enacted to subsidize it all. Sometimes they were in the right, taking down enemies that deserved to be destroyed, but many times they were not, simply doing what they wanted to do and treating the galaxy and all in it as their birthright.

And yet even they had a nemesis they could not overcome. The Hadarak vexed them, but rather than simply hold the line for perpetuity they continually sought ways to strike at them, failing time and again, but their ego would not let them admit inferiority.

They had to be superior.

They were superior.

And anything that suggested otherwise had to be annihilated.

No matter the cost.

The mastermind took a step backward when the massive mental download ended, his mind still trying to process it all as Paul just stood there giving him time to work through it. One of his large hands rose to his face and he touched his claws to his forehead as he thought quickly and cleanly, all doubt having been erased from his mind. He might not fully understand himself, let alone the templars, but the existence of the V’kit’no’sat made it all nearly irrelevant. They were an unbeatable foe…and one that had to be challenged.

He eventually dropped his hand and looked directly at Paul as possible strategies to employ against them failed humorously. There was no way to beat them. That was clear enough. And ironically, it didn’t matter to him in the slightest.

“What would you have your Thrawn do?”

4

April 3, 3254

Solar System

Earth

Davis didn’t get the priority update until he got out of the shower after his morning workout session, finding the small red holographic icon floating over his computer terminal in his quarters that he rarely used. Normally he’d wait until he got to his office, but it was times like these that made him glad he had the access handy.

He sat down and pulled up the alert, finding the report from the scouting mission to an unnamed system in lizard territory. The lizards were there, along with a lot of other races, including the Sety…and their scout ship had been fired upon, and not by the lizards.

He picked up his earpiece from the desktop and opened a line to his staff with a simple preset mental command. “Get the Sety ambassador down here immediately, personal conference, I want him face to face. Don’t tell him why.”

Davis pounded his fist on his desktop in frustration. The Ma’kri hadn’t been damaged, but at the same time as The Nexus had its delegation here negotiating with him another part of their fleet was firing on one of his ships. He didn’t know who these other races were, and it wasn’t a Sety ship that had fired upon them, but they’d been chasing as well and didn’t get into firing range only because the Ma’kri had managed to slip away from the planet in time. Regardless, they were working with whoever had fired those shots, not to mention the lizards…which drew into question the lack of action on the H’kar front, and if they had some arrangement with them all along.

These bastards had been here for two months, hounding him with matter after matter and him putting them on hold for a few days at a time here and there so he could get other work done. Part of the negotiations were worthwhile, but a lot of it seemed like little more than blustering as the various races within The Nexus sought and offered information as well as trade deals, technology overtures that Davis had almost entirely struck down before they’d uttered the words, and a lot of political maneuvering within The Nexus that he wasn’t going to facilitate.

The Daegon and the Maktee seemed to be straightforward enough and interested in actual agreements, and until now Davis hadn’t had any appreciable contact with them. A few others he’d made inroads with before were now coming to the forefront as well, but most of the delegation was here trying to trick or leverage Star Force into disadvantageous positions…as if Davis were a newb and couldn’t see through these guys even without his telepathy.

He’d turned down their request for an embassy in the Solar System, instructing them that they could build one in Epsilon Eridani like everyone else, and he thought they were dragging out negotiations here trying to get that decision reversed. Fortunately that meant they were still here when the alert had come in, so he’d have a chance to wring the information out of the Sety envoy personally.

“You requested my counsel?” the Sety said as he walked into a small conference room where Davis was waiting for him, not affording any of the representatives access to his office.

“I was told by your people to ask you for information regarding a matter in this star system,” Davis said, activating a holographic map. “It has no name in our database, nor the Li’vorkrachnika’s, but at present the Sety have a large warfleet there in addition to those of 9 other races including the Li’vorkrachnika…and they are not fighting each other.”

“I was informed that we had recently annexed a system within Li’vorkrachnika borders, and I believe it is this system, but I do not know what other vessels would be with them, and I sincerely doubt that the Li’vorkrachnika would allow our presence without throwing themselves into a suicidal frenzy.”

Davis silently brought up the recordings from the Ma’kri showing the various fleets.

“As you can see, I am not making this up. Your ships are there, in league with the Li’vorkrachnika and others. We’ve identified one race as the Trinx. The others are unknown to us. Explain this.”

“I cannot. I do not know the nature of our business there, only the annexation of the system.”

“My ship was specifically told to refer the matter to this delegation, and you’re telling me you have no information to give me?”

“I’m afraid I do not. I can tell you that two of those races are known to me. They are the Domu and Chamra. We have relations with them but they are not part of The Nexus and live far beyond our borders.”

“Take note,” Davis said as he advanced the timeline on the recordings, “that this allied fleet fired upon my ship when it didn’t leave the system as instructed. The Sety are part of that fleet, therefore I need answers.”

The envoy stared at the images for a moment. “I do not know what to tell you. I know of no reason why our fleet would be at cross purposes with yours. What did your ship do?”

“It moved in to take a closer scan of the planet and found this,” Davis said, showing him the enhanced subterranean image. “A large object, sensor stealthed, that the combined fleet seems to be excavating in conjunction with the Li’vorkrachnika.”

“Curious indeed.”

“Curious doesn’t cut it. That fleet said to ask you, now you’re telling me you have no answers?” Davis reiterated.

“I do not.”

“Then we were deliberately told to ask you in order to waste our time. When you are here to discuss matters of greater cooperation, such insulting tactics do not help your case.”

“I cannot control our fleet. They do not answer to me.”

“Why would that many ships be there? What could possibly pry them away from your territory? I know you’re overtaxed, don’t try to deny it, so what would justify stripping that many warships away from other priorities?”

“Again, I do not know.

“And how long do you think it would take to get me some answers?”

“A message would have to be sent back via courier ship. It would take a minimum of 3 months.”

“And I’m guessing the answer would be that they didn’t know as well, which will have just wasted three more months of my time,” Davis said angrily. “Do you have any objection to us going back and asking the fleet ourselves?”

“I would caution against that. If your ship drew fire then they are taking whatever the matter is very seriously.”

“I take anyone who fires on one of my ships very seriously.”

“I do not know what is occurring here,” the Sety said, pointing at the holograms that lingered above the table, “but if you were told to leave then it is best that you heed their warning. I will send a priority message back to my homeworld on the fastest vessel we have inquiring to this matter and informing them that your ship was fired upon. If you wish it, I will go personally to expedite matters.”

“Yes, you go and deliver a message from me. I have to have a really good explanation as to what is going on or I will not sanction The Nexus’s presence in that system. They are allied with the Li’vorkrachnika far beyond your borders. We are taking this region, and because of the Li’vorkrachnika’s involvement here we will not pass by this system. We will take it by force if needed, unless you can convince me of the need to do otherwise.”

“Strong as you are, you cannot stand up against that combined fleet,” the Sety strongly urged. “I do not know the capabilities of all of those ships, but if they are on par with ours you wouldn’t stand a chance in armed conflict, nor would we wish it to come to that given our recent inroads.”

“My ship has already been fired upon,” Davis said simply.

“Was it damaged?”

“No.”

“Then you can choose to overlook the incident.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To avoid a much more costly one.”

“You’re in our backyard now. You don’t dictate to us.”

“If my government sent in that large of a fleet, respectfully, they are dictating what occurs in that system. I do not think they will interfere in any others, and whatever the matter is in this one, it must be of the utmost importance.”

“You know we have strong relations with the H’kar.”

“You have made this clear, yes.”

“Now I see you have allied with the Li’vorkrachnika. Previously, you have not fully supported the H’kar in the defense of their territory against the Li’vorkrachnika. Do you see the problem with this?”

“I am beginning to,” the Sety said, clearly unbalanced. He’d been sent here to ingratiate himself with Star Force and now he was in a very awkward and unexpected position.

“The construction of a Nexus embassy in Epsilon Eridani is hereby canceled. You will not have a presence here if you are allied with our enemy, and I will need a full and open accounting of what is happening before I will even begin to reconsider that. Until such time I will deal with the races of The Nexus individually, but you and the Sety vessel here must leave immediately. Do not come back until you have an explanation that will meet my satisfaction. The other vessels may remain to conduct individual negotiations, then when completed, they will also leave and none of you will be allowed back into this star system again without my permission. Return here and expect to have your ships confiscated. You may bring any further diplomatic inquiries to one of our other systems and the information will be relayed here via our communications grid.”

“Do not throw away what we have accomplished here over a misunderstanding.”

“My ship was fired upon. That is not a misunderstanding.”

“The Sety did not fire.”

“Their compatriots did, and they were also in pursuit. Your fleet is working in conjunction with theirs and the Li’vorkrachnika’s, and you didn’t even bother to inform us you had assets in our invasion corridor…let alone a fleet of that size.”

“I was not instructed to. Had I know it would be of relevance I would have told you we had assets in that system, but given that your war front had not reached that area yet I did not think it was an issue. I apologize for the oversight.”

“I highly doubt this was an oversight, and I do not want apologies…I want answers. There is nothing further to discuss until you have some. Return to your homeworld and find them.”

“As you wish,” the Sety said, not wanting to cool relations any more with arguing. He turned his tree-like mass around and walked out of the room leaving Davis standing beside the chair he had never taken. A few minutes later another person walked in that door, shaking his head.

“He doesn’t know,” Riley-038 said, having been telepathically observing from another room. “But he had been notified of the activity in the system without being given any details and told to downplay it if asked.”

“I got that feeling too. How important is that fleet?”

“Huge. He’s never seen one of that size assembled before, nor does he have any idea why that many would be necessary. The two races he identified are regarded as being too powerful to join The Nexus and are contemporaries of the Sety.”

“The Sety and their peers,” Davis said, turning and pointing to the subsurface scan floating in holo along with the other major recon items. “What do you think that is?”

“Could be a ship. Kind of small for a city, but if there are remains of some civilization even more advanced than these guys, it could be of enough value to them to warrant this level of paranoia.”

“Zak’de’ron?”

“I doubt it. The finds we’ve documented have been basically trash left behind. If they had anything of value I’d bet they’d have recovered it by now.”

“Agreed. Who else in the database would fit this profile?”

“Nothing in this region, and it’s beyond the survey zone.”

“Was their coming here a coincidence or a distraction?”

“Coincidence. We wouldn’t even have been scouting that system if the mastermind hadn’t tipped us off to it. That said, they knew we’d get there eventually.”

“Did they think we’d pass it by because it wasn’t on the map?”

“I think they don’t worry about it with that large of a fleet. They think they can dictate whatever they want.”

“Can they?”

“I’ll need to pull a chunk of ships from here and a lot of other systems in order to not delay the ongoing invasions.”

“Do it. We can’t let the lizards have safe haven anywhere, and we can’t let The Nexus dictate to us on our own doorstep…nor whoever the rest of these races are. I get the feeling we’re tripping over a long existing relationship between them and the lizards that they never expected to come to light.”

“That doesn’t explain the excavation.”

“No, it doesn’t. I think it’s tied into it, but whatever is going on there is recent. Find out what it is. We’re not waiting for their politicians to stall us. We haven’t had any here for a long time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember their tactics.”

“This fleet movement was fairly recent.”

“And it may be time sensitive as well. Go.”

“Going,” Riley said happily as he walked away enroute to rallying a response fleet.

Davis let him go, shutting off the holograms save for the subsurface scan. There was hardly anything to look at, just a hazy outline around where the sensor stealthing was, but something about it worried him. He didn’t know what it was, but the response of the Sety alone in sending that many ships that he knew were needed elsewhere was significant. No, not significant, panicked.

This was extremely important to them, and apparently a lot of other very advanced races.

What the hell was this thing?

5

July 2, 3254

Unnamed System

Inner Zone

Riley’s command ship came out of its jump head of the line to find stellar orbit empty. That was fine with him, for within a few seconds another command ship slowed to a position several hundred kilometers behind his. The Excalibur drew closer as a contingent of Warship-class jumpships followed the two trailblazers into the system, with them claiming control of stellar orbit without a confrontation and getting a look at the condition of the planet in question as soon as they worked their way around the star and got into line of sight with it.

They were all still there, sitting in planetary orbit and safeguarding whatever it was that they were excavating. Riley and Paul both stayed put near the star as their fleet continued to jump in one ship at a time at a very high rate of sequence that had become second nature after so many lizard invasions. Normally ships in convoy wouldn’t jump this close to one another but now, for Star Force’s veteran ship captains, this felt normal and any pilot that couldn’t handle such a maneuver was far from making it to a position where they’d be able to fly a jumpship. The competition amongst pilots was so high now they all had to be experts just to get a primary slot on even a freighter.

“There they are,” Paul commented, popping up in holo on Riley’s command nexus control board.

“Yeah, just sitting there and ignoring the star. For someone who doesn’t want anyone here they’re not acting like it.”

“I get the feeling they’re used to getting what they want just by frowning in someone’s direction. They want the planet secured, so they’re not going to bother stopping transit through this star.”

“Agreed. They’ve got to be noticing us by now.”

“I don’t think they’re worried…yet,” Paul added. “When the incoming ships don’t stop, they’re going to get nervous. The Sety have enough data on our capabilities to know we mean business.”

“Think they’ll fight?”

“I think they’re paranoid about something, and paranoid people can be unpredictable. I’m glad you brought this many ships.”

“If we can spook them into talking so much the better, but if we have to throw down with The Nexus and friends, I want it to be a lasting lesson. You want to chew them out?”

“Go ahead. I’ll take second seat on this.”

“Alright,” Riley said as more and more warships continued to come out of the convoy jump behind them. He activated the communications systems and set them for The Nexus’s protocols, knowing that at least the Sety would be receiving the message, though he knew the others would as well. Whether or not they had translation protocols for English was the question.

“Attention, Interlopers,” Riley began, his voice deep with sarcasm. “You’ve encroached on the rightful territory of Star Force that we are currently in the process of stealing from the Li’vorkrachnika. If you wished to help rid the galaxy of these vermin we’d welcome the help…yet they seem to be sitting quite comfortably in orbit with you. Seeing as how there is no weaponsfire being exchanged and their not being blown into smithereens, I have to assume they are here with your permission. Well, they don’t have our permission to be here, and they have to go.”

“Furthermore, your ships fired upon one of ours that was having a look around this system. We really don’t like that, and if you’re looking for a fight we’ve brought you one that will offer a greater challenge. If that’s what you want, we’ll be happy to oblige. If not, you’d better start explaining things real fast. We’ll be in orbit shortly.”

Riley cut the comm channel, knowing there would be a lag until the message got to the planet, but already feeling the ticking clock counting down. This was going to come to a head very fast, and he didn’t know how these guys were going to respond.

“Nicely done.”

“Thank you. Not too much sarcasm?”

“I’m not sure how much they’ll pick up anyway.”

“Sad to waste it on unknowing ears.”

“If they have ears,” Paul added, seeing the first stirrings in their fleet formation coming in on the long range sensors. “I think they’ve seen enough to realize they’re going to be outnumbered.”

“They don’t know how badly yet. I hope they squirm.”

“Where do you want to enter?”

“Backside, then circle around. They’re staying in position over that surface location.”

“Give them a little more time to think it through?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll need to make a detour.”

“That’ll give them a little more time too.”

“Wanna split?”

“Yeah, why not. Let’s enter at multiple spots. How many jumplanes do we have?”

“Five easy ones,” Paul said, looking at their navigational options if they bounced off nearby planets, “two more with a mild delay.”

“Five is good. Let’s make as good of a show of this as we can…and if they think to intercept one jumpline they’ll have four others to worry about covering as well.”

When Riley’s command ship decelerated into planetary orbit he brought with him a fifth of the combined fleet and had them stacked into a 3x3 formation given the slow jump. That meant there were 8 jumpships arrayed around the Zeus in a square, then following them were additional squares packing the massive jumpships in together very closely with only a handful of kilometers to spare in between each.

When they arrived at their destination point the jumpships fanned out and his command ship took center in what quickly became a blockading wall. Each additional square formation that came in split up and added to that wall until all of his 206 ships arrived. Likewise there were other formations at four different points around the backside of the planet from where the opposing fleet was stationed.

1031 Star Force jumpships for the 1031 ships in the opposing fleet, not counting the lizards, which would pretty much pop like confetti when hit. Some of the unknown vessels were larger than even the Star Force jumpships, but most were far smaller and no matter what their technological advantage might or might not be, they were single warships…not carriers.

When Riley’s fleet got themselves arrayed to his liking, the wall of jumpships slowly moved around the curve of the planet towards the waiting fleet while still holding their drones in their berths, not having released them yet, and each jumpship held between 50 and 100 of them…meaning that despite some of their impressive tonnage, the Sety-led fleet was almost comically outmatched.

He just hoped they thought so as well.

“We’re here,” he transmitted again, this time within range of realtime communication. “Care to respond before we get within weapons range and one of your ships does something really stupid?”

An image of a tree-like Sety appeared in holo before him, with the computer handling the translation. “You are trespassing. Any questions concerning this system should be directed to the representative we have sent to your capitol.”

“I just came from there. He said he had no idea what you were doing here, so we figured we’d come here and get some answers directly.”

“This planet belongs to us. You have no claim on it.”

“I didn’t say whether I was laying a claim on it or not. I said we’re here for information. Explain yourselves, starting with why the Li’vorkrachnika are here.”

“They are here with our permission and are not organizing against you.”

“That doesn’t answer why, and if you’re giving them safe haven that does concern us.”

“Their business with us is private.”

“They’re supposed to be the enemy of The Nexus. What business do you have with them other than fighting them?”

“That is our concern.”

“And who are you? You and your friends. They’re not Nexus members, are they?”

“They are not. Our association with them is a private matter.”

“Look here, Treebeard. Either you tell me what I want to know or we’re going down to the planet to have a look for ourselves.”

“You will not be permitted to do so. If you try to do so you will be fired upon.”

“Have you counted how many ships we have?”

“It matters not. We are tasked with defending this planet and that is what we will do, to the last, if need be. You are not permitted here. Leave.”

“Make me,” Riley shot back. “You think you can shoot at our ships when they’re alone. Try it now.”

“Your vessel was told to leave and did not. The fault is its own.”

“Well now I’m telling you to leave. If you do not, will the fault be yours?”

“This is our planet. You do not have the right to order us to vacate it.”

“I have the guns to do so if necessary, but I’ll settle for a really good explanation. If you don’t give me one, I have to assume your presence here, in our invasion corridor, in association with our enemy, is nefarious and deal with you accordingly. So start talking.”

“Any inquiries should be posted to the representative we sent to your capitol.”

Riley looked at him with scorn on his face. “Do you really think that by saying that you’re going to get me to turn around and leave to go ask them again?”

“What you do is not my concern.”

“I’m making it your concern. Shall I tattoo that message on the hull of your ship so that you can better contemplate it?”

“Be advised that the ships we possess are more advanced than yours. You do not have a position of leverage here.”

“Oh really?” Riley asked, his tone light. “We got a pretty good scan from our scout ship, and while we don’t know exactly what all of them can do I think we guessed pretty good. Those big boys there have a dueron cannon each, but that won’t do much good against a fleet of our size. There are too many ships to target, though it would do a hell of a lot of damage if it hit something big. Too bad we didn’t bring anything that size. And your pheeron converters…they pack a punch, but you’ll find our shields have been calibrated to resist that type of weaponry. I could go on, but suffice to say that we’re aware of most of your tech even if we haven’t faced off with you before.”

He couldn’t read the Sety’s mind over a comm channel, but his demeanor shifted in what Riley guessed was either surprise or dismay. After all, they didn’t know Star Force had a galaxy’s worth of technical diagrams of every known piece of technology that the V’kit’no’sat had come across to pull reference from.

“Be advised, that if you engage us here, you will reap that betrayal elsewhere. All the races present will lay a vendetta upon you that you will not survive.”

“The Li’vorkrachnika already have one on us, and we’re surviving it just fine.”

“They are minor partners. Do not mistake our strength as being as small as theirs.”

“Partners, huh? That’s odd. I thought you were enemies. So, did you sell out the H’kar? Because we really like them, and if you did, that’s just going to tick us off even more. Lying about it now will only make things worse, so the best thing for you to do is answer honestly and bluntly before this escalates even further.”

“And the best thing you can do is turn around and leave before you start a war you cannot win. We are honor bound to defend this planet at all costs, and that is exactly what we will do.”

“Then defend it by providing me the information I need and there won’t be a fight…unless you really are our enemy, in which case there’ll be a fight regardless. But if you’re not, just answer my damn question and there won’t be any need for conflict. Which is more important, keeping your secret or keeping that planet? Because if we do fight I’m taking it, and believe me when I say that I have a lot more ships in the region to call on for reinforcements to make sure we hold it long enough to do a thorough investigation of everything happening on the surface…so are you going to make me find out the hard way, or are you just going to tell me what’s going on?”

“We have our duty, and will carry it out.”

“If you’re really that dumb, then The Nexus is so screwed that I can’t even…” Riley said, stopping as Paul’s mental voice entered his head via the intership comm systems.

Do you feel that?

What?

On the planet. Open your mind and screen out everything on your ship. Tell me what you sense.

Riley did as instructed, ignoring the Sety for a moment while he pulled most of his mind out of the computer network and back into his physical senses. It took a moment to find what Paul was referring to, but once he did it stood out immediately. It was a low hum, a telepathic hum, and it was coming from the planet.

Whatever that is, it’s huge.

And coming from the coordinates of the excavation. It just popped up once we hit line of sight, but I was getting an uneasy feeling before that, so some of that telepathic field must have been making it through the planet.

What has a mind that powerful?

Pretty obvious now, isn’t it? And that object is about the right size.

It’s too small to be a Hadarak, and… Riley cut off as it finally clicked.

Nefron didn’t think they’d be easy to destroy, Paul added, finishing the thought for him.

What the hell do these guys want with it?

Let’s ask them.

Riley pulled his mind away from the monstrous hum that now seemed hard to miss and turned his attention back on the Sety that hadn’t bothered to speak when Riley cut off. “Are you the commander of this fleet?”

“I speak for them, yes.”

“Are you the commander?”

“We are an alliance. We have no single commander. I have been elected to communicate with you.”

“Then start communicating. Now that we’re close enough, I’m able to feel the presence buried within the planet. You have a Uriti here, and if you damn well want to live you’d better not mess with it.”

This time the Sety looked horrified, and given his alien persona that only underscored how big of an emotion was swirling through his otherwise hard to read features.

“That’s right, we’re telepathic. Or had you forgotten that?”

“You are not…” it began, then suddenly there was a delay with his image remaining. He was talking to someone else but the words weren’t being transmitted. Riley waited it out, then another hologram popped up beside the one of the Sety…with a mist-like apparition coalescing into an indistinct body and face.

“You can feel the Hamoriti as well?” it asked, obviously using a similar translation program that the Sety were using.

“They’re called Uriti, and yes I can.”

“I am unfamiliar with that word. What knowledge of this do you have?”

“Plenty. More than you, I’d imagine. For starters, there are a lot more of them left over from a war millions of years in the past. Who are you? I am unfamiliar with your race.”

“We are Yisv, and telepathic as well. Are you aware of the danger this god possesses?”

“I am acutely aware. What is its current condition? How is it being contained?”

“If you do not know the answers to those questions then you do not possess as much knowledge as we do. If you do not know then you are ignorant.”

“Far from it. If this Uriti awakens and roams free, we’re the only ones with a means to control it.”

“Control it?” the Yisv asked, with a quiver of mist that was unreadable. “Of what do you speak?”

“A secret we possess, and one that I am not inclined to share with those who will not even do me the courtesy of explaining why you fired on my ship.”

“We cannot let anyone awaken the Hamoriti. We will keep all away from this planet no matter what the cost.”

“Why are the Li’vorkrachnika involved?”

“They helped us locate this one.”

“This one? You’ve found others then?”

There was some hesitation as the Sety and probably others were conferring with each other, but the Yisv pressed on anyway. “Yes we have. We know the dangers they possess and are committed to protecting the galaxy from them. The Li’vorkrachnika’s assistance was necessary.”

“Even though they’re the enemy of The Nexus?”

“That is immaterial given the greater threat.”

“How many have you found?”

“Nine.”

“How many are on this planet?”

“Just one. The Ancients would not risk imprisoning two at the same location. How can you be so ignorant and possess this knowledge?”

“Who are these Ancients?”

“The ones who imprisoned the Hamoriti long ago.”

“Our knowledge comes from those who created them.”

That revelation hit like a bomb, and both the Yisv and the Sety were completely frozen. Before they could speak more holograms began popping up in front of him until nine different races were visible.

“Who created them?” a twin headtailed alien that Riley recognized as a Trinx asked.

“A race called the Chixzon. We have recovered considerable knowledge from their…remains.”

“How many Hamoriti did they make?” a small triped alien asked that he didn’t recognize.

“Spread across the galaxy, there were a total of 118.”

A string of curses that didn’t fully translate were uttered by half of the aliens, but it was the Yisv that responded the most calmly, though that was largely a false demeanor, for its words betrayed its dismay and worry as well.

“One has been released, and we are doing everything in our power to keep it from spreading its minions across the galaxy at great cost to the nine races represented here. We needed expendable troops, for which the Li’vorkrachnika were commissioned for, but we cannot imprison the god. We can only hope to kill its minions as it produces them and follow it as it travels from system to system, destroying all in its path. If you have knowledge of the Hamoriti, I beg you to give it to us. We are helpless to stop the god on our own.”

6

“Commissioned…how?” Riley asked, realizing the probable answer even before the Yisv could respond.

“They provided us with expendable soldiers and ships in sufficient quantity to defeat the minions soon after they were created. None of us could have kept up with the level of production necessary to accomplish that.”

“And what did they get in return?”

“Technical assistance.”

Riley glared at the hologram of the Yisv, then at the other 8 races. “You gave them tech upgrades that made them far more deadly. Do you have any idea how many people have died because of that?”

“Far less than would have perished had the Hamoriti’s minions run rampant across the galaxy,” the Yisv explained unflinchingly.

“Did you have a plan? Or were you just going to continue feeding them technology until they reached your level?”

“We did what we had to do to preserve future options. Doing nothing would have meant disaster. Combating and losing our own forces would have seen the Hamoriti run free eventually. Only with the Li’vorkrachnika’s assistance have we kept it contained to a single system.”

Riley noted a Star Force jumpship breaking off from Paul’s fleet, then a quick personal message from the trailblazer informed him that it was going back to get word to Earth and send for Nefron.

“And what did you plan to do when we destroyed all the Li’vorkrachnika’s worlds?”

“There are two they constructed specifically for the purpose of supplying us with the troops we need. We were not going to allow you to destroy those worlds. If you have a way to deal with this disaster, please share it with us. For the sake of the galaxy, something must be done beyond the stalling that we have maintained.”

“A Uriti can only destroy one planet at a time,” Riley said angrily. “The Li’vorkrachnika can savage thousands at once. You wrongly presume the greater threat.”

“If you had fought one, you would not say such things. They cannot be defeated, the Li’vorkrachnika can, as you’ve demonstrated.”

“And you’ve made all the harder. And the H’kar? Were they part of the deal?” Riley asked, looking at the Sety.

“No. The Trinx brokered the deal. The Li’vorkrachnika had no knowledge of our involvement until recently.”

“Did you hold back your counter campaign against them?”

“There was no counter campaign. The H’kar are a minor member of The Nexus, and were fortunate that we assimilated them, else they would have been destroyed. We never intended on defeating the Li’vorkrachnika, even before this bargain was struck. The H’kar were to hold their border, if they could not, then they would fall.”

“The Nexus philosophy is that a strike against one is a strike against all.”

“The Li’vorkrachnika are not that serious of a threat.”

“You stupid morons.”

“We apologize for the difficulty we have placed you in,” the cyborg said. “We have reviewed our actions numerous times, but we have never found an alternative choice. We do not like aiding a potential enemy until they are strong enough to threaten us, but the Hamoriti is by far the greater threat. I do not like what we have done, but there was no other choice.”

“Die honorably,” Riley said flatly. “And why can’t you kill these minions yourself when they try to leave the location the Uriti is at?”

“If we wait that long they will mass a far greater number. They are not easy to kill.”

“Perhaps I’ve underestimated your technological assets.”

“No, it is not a lacking on our part. The Hamoriti’s creations are simply too persistent. If we do not cut them down as soon as possible, our task will become much harder.”

“Forgive me, but that is not entirely true,” another of the nine races said, this one a mass of hair and teeth that looked very much like a bear. “The fact is that we have focused our efforts on containing the captured Hamoriti rather than building militaries to fight them. We believed that if one awoke there would be nothing we could do about it. Our lack of preparation is why we have had to rely on the Li’vorkrachnika.”

“How long since the one awoke?”

“Approximately half a millennium.”

Riley frowned. “You’ve been feeding the lizards technology for 500 years? You fucking bastards. We could have wiped them out by now. And how in the hell haven’t you been able to retool your militaries in the past 500 years?”

“Because we are not sitting and watching as the Li’vorkrachnika do the fighting,” the Trinx said, his anger suppressed at even the slightest possibility of a solution. “We fight with them and suffer losses in the process.”

“That doesn’t stop research and development,” the Human argued.

“Our focus,” the Yisv said, taking helm of the conversation again, “has been day to day to prevent an outbreak of the minions. When the Hamoriti leaves a system and travels to another we follow. We cannot stop it, nor direct it, and every system it has landed in has been utterly destroyed. Most of the worlds have been Li’vorkrachnika.”

“How did it get free?”

“The Li’vorkrachnika did not know what they had found, and we did not know of any more than the original 7 Hamoriti. Their locations were documented and we have secured as many as we could. Why there are others not listed we have not discovered. We are near to accessing the aperture that will allow us to enter this one’s prison, and hopefully the Oracle will tell us the answers we seek, but the Ancients could only sedate the Hamoriti, they could not control them. By what means do you claim to control them?”

“We didn’t know for sure that any were still alive, but we know how their masters directed them and should be able to do the same. In theory. We’ve never had cause to test it.”

“How was this achieved?”

“Very carefully.”

“Please give us the means to do this. Even if it is short lived, we may have enough of an opportunity to sedate it again.”

“Where is the free one now, and where are the locations of the others that you are aware of?”

A few moments later a navigational marker was transmitted that highlighted a lizard system in what used to be H’kar territory, but no other markers were forthcoming.

“And the others?”

“Their locations are kept secret for a very good reason,” the Sety said, drawing a glare from Riley. “Until you have offered some proof of your claims, we will keep that secret.”

“I’m beginning to dislike you,” he said bluntly, then turned his attention back to the Yisv. “Are there others you’re searching for? How did you know to look here?”

“Artifacts of the Ancients are rare, but we have been looking for them in earnest since the Hamoriti was released, hoping they would shed some light on the secrets of how to recapture it. We discovered vague suggestions that there might be one hidden within this region, so we asked the Li’vorkrachnika to look. They found the one on this planet and informed us of it before trying to access it.”

A message from Paul filtered its way into Riley’s mind.

“With whom in the Li’vorkrachnika did you negotiate with?”

“We did not get names, but it was with their leadership caste.”

“Is there one present in this system?”

“Yes.”

A happy thought came in from Paul, then the trailblazer told him to continue on with the conversation and ignore the templar while he dealt with that.

“Do you have an image of the Hamoriti that is free? We need to know which it is.”

“Do you have files on them all?”

“Yes.”

“May we have those files?”

“May we have the locations of the others?”

The Yisv didn’t reply, then nodded. “We must begin to trust one another first. I understand. My race is telepathic and adversely affected by the Hamoriti’s presence. Were this one not sedated we would not even be in this star system. We will not go to the surface. If it is the same for you, I suggest you find one of your empire’s races that is not telepathic to serve as an observer and accompany us when we access the aperture and go inside.”

A few stares came from other holograms, but none of the Nine voiced their displeasure.

“Explain what you mean by adversely affected?”

“The telepathic aura of the god affects us more than others due to our sensitivity.”

“Interesting. I can feel it now, but I wouldn’t say it’s interfering with my abilities.”

“The power level increases with proximity.”

“Then I think I’ll test the range limits. When do you estimate you will have access?”

“Within a few days.”

“Then shall we cancel the upcoming battle?”

“It was you who were going to attack. Will you stand down?”

“We’ll stand by…and take up a holding orbit.”

“Can you tell us nothing of this control method?”

“Only that it requires a specialist from our homeworld. We have dispatched a ship to send for that which is required. It will take some time before it is here.”

“We have waited a very long time. We can wait a little longer. Please do not say you wish to wake this one to test your abilities, for we will not allow it.”

“No. But I do want our specialist to inspect this one. Then we will deal with the one roaming free. What is it doing exactly?”

“Feeding and spawning minions.”

“Continuously?”

“For the most part. Sometimes there are lulls in minion production, but it never stops its attempts to spawn an army that can march across the galaxy on its own. The minions do not need the Hamoriti to conquer, and they are far more dangerous than the Li’vorkrachnika on their own, which is why we had to keep them contained and in as few numbers as possible, for they will spread rapidly if given the chance.”

“How often does it switch systems?”

“Randomly. It has passed between 39 since it was awoken, not counting those merely for transit. When it attempts to spawn minions it lays waste to whatever planet it is on, coring deep into the world’s mass and consuming whatever corovon and other valuable materials are there. Two such worlds have imploded as a result, with the surface crust being consumed by the magma within, then rehardening into a new surface with all traces of the forming having been obliterated. As you know, many of the Li’vorkrachnika worlds are heavily populated.”

“No, really?” Riley said sarcastically. “Has it hit a non-Li’vorkrachnika system?”

“Not an inhabited one, but it has planted itself in several unclaimed systems. It does not require atmosphere, and has taken to several airless worlds. Most of its minions will not grow there, but a few varieties will.”

“How did you fight them there?”

“We have a machine army,” the Trinx answered. “They are costly to produce, and are reserved for situations the Li’vorkrachnika cannot handle.”

“And why haven’t you been able to produce more over the past 500 years? That’s enough time to expand and build up multiple planets for the specific purpose of housing the industry to create them.”

“We would never be able to field enough units to replace the Li’vorkrachnika.”

“You could have tried,” the cyborg responded, breaking the bit of decorum they had. Apparently there was some bad blood between these races.

“I need a list of assets,” Riley said before they could start arguing. “Your assets. Your planets, fleets, territory…all of it. I want the full history of the past 500 years since this one got free and how you’ve dealt with it…and how it’s adapted to you. Do not hold anything back. I’m not asking for the schematics to your technology, just a tally of it and its abilities so I can assess what’s been going on,” he said, looking first at the Trinx, then the others, “and how seriously you’ve been dealing with it.”

“Our entire civilization has been devoted to stopping these beasts,” the Trinx said, holding his anger in check.

“Then my request should be fairly simple. Are you interested in stopping this one, or playing games with me?”

“We will pursue any chance of stopping the Hamoriti. But so far all you have done is talk.”

“He has knowledge that he otherwise should not,” the Yisv disagreed. “I do not doubt his claims. We will gladly provide you with the information you requested. But I do have a question. Do you know the origin of the Hamoriti?”

“Yes.”

“Where did they come from? You mentioned they were created? How?”

“They are alterations, massive alterations, to creatures that inhabit the deep core of the galaxy. A wayward one was captured and experimented upon, then the Chixzon altered it to turn its offspring into weapons they could use to crush their opponents. Each Uriti is unique, and the older ones are far harder to control than the newer ones, thus I need to know which one has been released.”

“And these Chixzon? What happened to them?”

“They were destroyed by a galactic uprising against them.”

“The Ancients,” another race said reverently. “They must have had numerous allies across the galaxy. That’s why we didn’t know of the others.”

“No,” the cyborg differed. “The Ancients built this prison, like the others. Yet there is no mention of it. That question is not answered.”

“Were any of them destroyed?” the Yisv asked.

“We only know of two, early on, when the Chixzon sent them against too strong of opponents out of arrogance. After that point they deployed them more wisely. We do not have information of what happened to the Uriti after their civilization fell.”

“So there could be 116 left in the galaxy?” a shape-shifting lump of mass asked as its head rippled with distortion.

“Possibly.”

“And you haven’t sought to find them?”

“We had no idea even one was still out there, let alone where to look.”

“Where did you recover the knowledge of the Chixzon?” the Sety asked.

Riley gave him a mocking stare. “That’s something we’re going to keep to ourself.”

“That data cannot be allowed to die with you.”

“Who’s dying?”

“We must earn their trust,” the Yisv said viciously, the animosity surviving the translation. “I suggest we each provide an independent account of the Hamoriti to them while the aperture is being revealed. If they know of the Hamoriti then they know of the danger they possess. No sane being would engage one without the knowledge of how to neutralize them, and from what the Sety have told us, this civilization is a wise one.”

“Thank you,” Riley said, but he was looking at the Sety when he said it.

“Please do not harm yourself,” the Yisv implored. “Keep away from this one as far as necessary. But you will have access to it in whatever form is needed short of compromising the god’s slumber.”

“Before we go down to the surface, the Li’vorkrachnika are to leave it. I don’t want them around.”

“That can be arranged. Will their fleet in orbit be an issue?”

“Make sure they don’t fire on or try to ram us. They have a habit of doing that.”

“We will make sure nothing of the sort happens. They rely on us for…compensation. They will not defy our orders. Nor could they gain anything from such an assault given the strength of your fleet. An ambush on the ground would be another matter, so you are right to request they be removed. They are finalizing the last of the digging. Once it is complete they will be withdrawn from the planet. I will make sure of it personally.”

“Adequate,” Riley said.

“Do you truly have a means to stop the Hamoriti?” the triped asked.

“Who are you?”

“We are the Dati.”

“Well, Dati, yes we do.”

“What can you do?”

“Give it orders. The complexity of which will be determined by which Hamoriti it is, but at the least we should be able to direct it to whatever system we wish and keep it from wrecking inhabited ones.”

“Whatever system you wish?” the Trinx asked ominously.

“They are weapons,” Riley pointed out. “And yes, we could use them as such if we wanted, but if you study our history you’ll find that we’re the safest people to hold the leash that you’re going to find. And to be blunt about it, if we wanted, now that we know it’s here, we could wake this one up remotely, so you don’t have a means of stopping us if we wanted to unleash this one. We’re not going to do that, I only say this to make you realize you have no leverage on us. Regardless of your tampering with the Li’vorkrachnika, we do not want the Uriti running free and destroying worlds, and we will do what we can to stop this problem before it gets any worse. On that I give you my word. But there will be no sharing of control, so do not ask about it. You’ve already shown that you are unscrupulous. We would not trust you with such control, even if it were possible. And given the nature of the technology required, I can assure you that it is not. The Chixzon were very cautious about their control mechanism. You would not be able to use it.”

“How then can you?” the Yisv asked respectfully.

“That’s a secret for another time.”

“Then let us not delay. We will get you the data you require,” the Yisv said with a nod, then cut its transmission. The others followed suit, the Sety last of all, almost reluctantly.

What are you up to, Paul?

Trying to hack the lizard fleet comms and find what ship that templar is on.

Any luck?

He’s not on the dreadnaught. Best guess is one of their jumpships.

You going to board it?

I’d like to, but he’d kill himself before I could get to him. I’m going to try and hack whatever information he might have with him.

I thought they’d configured their comm systems to keep us out?

They keep trying, but Thrawn gave me some information to help with that. It’s outdated, but allowing me a little access that I’m trying to wiggle around with. If I’m careful and lucky, I can get one of their cruisers to do the talking for me and use their current codes to get access.

We could still get a tissue sample off a dead body, if that’d help?

It would be something, but I’m more interested in finding some links back to their coreward territories. Nice work with those guys, by the way.

Think I told them too much?

No. But when Nefron gets here we’re going to have to decide how much to let them know. These guys aren’t dumb.

I’m not so sure about the Sety. Why are they so damn annoying?

We’re starting to challenge The Nexus, Davis thinks. I had a long talk with him about it previously. We’re small compared to them, but several of their member races are making inroads with us and the possibility of defections is unnerving them.

So they’d prefer to throw their weight around?

And keeping us out of here under the guise of protecting this Uriti was the perfect excuse with their buddies. We shut that down real quick and outstaged them in a far greater way than they’d ever thought possible. How do you think they’d feel?

Grateful, if they’re really that committed to keeping these things from running amuck.

I think we’ll find out soon how dedicated they are, if each race files an independent report. Good call on that. What did you make of that warning about telepathy?

I’m going to find out myself. You stay up here in case I get fucked up. Not sure how well our blocks will work against something of that magnitude.

Alright, but play it safe. If this thing twitches the ranges might alter.

Recklessly safe, as always, Riley joked, though the description was quite accurate.

7

July 5, 3254

Unnamed System

(Uriti/Hamoriti location)

Paul sat in his quarters reading through the files that he’d acquired from the lizard ships. It’d taken some time, but he’d eventually been able to work his way into their comm system and hack into enough ship databases to find which one the templar was on, then downloaded his full set of files before being detected and having a hardware solution imposed on the tap. He’d managed to leave a ‘thank you’ message before the plug had been pulled, but as of now there was no way back into the lizard fleet systems for they were only transmitted what amounted to brief text messages between one another.

But he’d gotten what he needed. The templar was on one of their cargo vessels that had been reworked from the inside out to become a mobile fortress. It didn’t have additional weaponry, but was coated with so much armor and packed with additional, often redundant gravity drives, that the cargo carrying capacity had been reduced by 21%. From the exterior it looked like all the others, but this was definitely intended to be his personal, inconspicuous ride around the war zone.

Paul was sitting in a cushy chair that he hardly ever used, but for the moment he had some reading to do and might as well sit here to do it rather than standing in the command nexus or sitting at his terminal a few meters away. He’d already skimmed the information previously, but this time he was going to go through it line by line, in Li’vorkrachnika, and not rely on the translation programs which could occasionally make a mistake.

The full plans and history of the deal with the Trinx were spelled out, as well as the timetable for technology ‘payments.’ It galled him that these bastards had been feeding them tech all this time, no matter what their reasons. This wasn’t so much an emergency panic as it was a complete disregard for the wellbeing of others. The Trinx and their allies were far superior to the lizards and the payment schedule wasn’t going to have them catching up in a very long time, and it seemed that so long as their priority, being the Uriti, was met they didn’t give a damn what happened to everyone else.

The threat of the Uriti was real and significant, but Riley was right. After all these years the economies of these races could have been regeared into production necessary to supply the equipment they needed to combat the Uriti minions in sufficient numbers…but why do that when they had a much cheaper and easier method of obtaining what they needed? And with the lizards’ disregard for their own people they had an unending supply of suicide-willing troops to trade away.

What was important now was that they got no more tech from them. The next payment was due in two years…a modification to sensors that would upgrade their range and response time. Following that could come a specialized missile suited for ship to ship combat, then yet another shield upgrade. On and on the list went, apparently hammered out long ago, and extending some 5,483 years in length. After that they’d either have found a solution to the problem or have to renegotiate another contract…but at that time the lizards would be so damn strong it wouldn’t have mattered.

All of the lizards’ tech upgrades in recent years were on this list…all of them. They hadn’t created a single improvement on their own in all that time, or stolen one from someone else since the Kvash plasma streamers. They were relying on the Trinx and this deal to feed them what they needed. No wonder they wanted to play for time and stall Star Force’s advance. The longer it took the more tech they’d get, so why push the issue with a massive invasion of the ADZ?

All this time he’d wondered why the lizards were doing what they were doing, and this little tidbit brought nearly everything into crystal clarity. This deal was the cornerstone of their plans for galactic conquest going forward, and it was no wonder they were punching the Skarrons in the nose and literally daring them to come out and stomp on them. More than the internal Skarron conflicts with their Consortium, it was the knowledge that these upgrades were coming that was going to turn their seemingly suicidal charge to their favor.

When it looked like they were outmatched and going to get the axe coming down on them soon enough, all they had to do was not cross that line and hold onto the massive gains they’d made into Skarron territory and digest them for a while until more upgrades kicked in, then before the Skarrons realized what was happening they’d be pouring over their borders and a lot harder to repel than they’d thought.

And even if the lizards were pushed back, as time went on they’d get stronger and stronger and the war of attrition would swing in their advantage. Damn them, this was so clever and devious that he was a bit envious. Star Force was the main technological threat to them, so they pivoted to attack the huge empire that was less of a challenge ship for ship. Neutralize the more toxic one and let them chew away at one piece of your territory while you knock off the much bigger one in a massive play for time.

Paul was beginning to think the lizards now never intended to come after Star Force, simply keeping them at bay with as many sacrifices as necessary while they moved their capitol elsewhere and far away from his encroaching invasion forces.

Unfortunately its location wasn’t in the ship’s database, but a navigational map was. No other ship had one this filled out, and while it didn’t give strength or population numbers, it did give the location of every system the lizards currently held…or at least at the time this ship’s map was updated.

They’d spread farther than either Star Force or the Voku had estimated…including sending small startup colonies beyond their contiguous borders and off into very distant regions to begin growing isolated empires thousands of lightyears away. Those were noted as being very outdated, with the most recent one being 22 years old, but two of them were actually behind Star Force lines and beyond the Voku, out past what was referred to as the expanded region, or even the backwater region which was dotted with map references and little data whatsoever.

The lizards had leapfrogged it all and sent ships on ahead to plant the seeds and begin growing new worlds far from Star Force’s knowledge, far from the Skarrons and everyone else that knew about them.

Paul was going to make sure they sent some of their own assets that deep on a lizard hunt. They couldn’t let these guys get another foothold on a weak region where they’d have next to no resistance. At least that’s what he assumed. Star Force didn’t have any information that far out and there could be stronger factions, but if the lizards had set up camp and expanded out to dozens of systems in each of the two ‘seeds’ then they hadn’t attracted much attention yet and wouldn’t if they were smart about it.

No, Star Force had to go hunt them down and do it now before they sent more seeds out even further away. It was curious though, how…

Paul’s question was answered a moment later when he found a listing of trade routes the lizards were using, and all the seeds were lined up on them. They weren’t sending these rogue civilizations out to operate on their own. They still wanted command and control of them, thus they were restricting them to lines of slow, but workable communication.

Maybe that was more paranoia on their part, for if this was Star Force’s work he would have put the lizards into ships and told them to run in every direction possible and find a nice quiet corner of the galaxy to spread into then meet up in a few thousand years for a reunion and to see who made it, then they could start consolidating power and taking over everything in between.

That would be a nightmare, but then again they couldn’t ship out the tech upgrades if they didn’t know where everybody was at either. The lizards were taking a clever strategy here, and it was just via a stroke of luck that Paul happened onto a lizard fleet that wasn’t running or dying and that happened to contain a templar with his personal records.

But why weren’t the lizards running or fighting? They thought they were protected by the other races? Or was this deal so important to them that they were willing to see how this played out before deciding what action to take.

But then maybe this had been discussed before. In the records, the two systems that the lizards had devoted to the construction of ships and the growth of troops to supply to the anti-Uriti alliance were detailed as well as their agreement with the Trinx that those locations would be protected against outside influence. That influence would most likely be Star Force, so the Trinx and maybe these other races were already willing to put themselves in between Paul’s advancing fleets and the lizards.

How that would have played out he wasn’t sure. Would the Trinx have talked or just bluffed? They didn’t have the numbers to fight Star Force given their small territory no matter how advanced their tech was, and Paul was fairly sure they weren’t all that far ahead of Star Force. Maybe having gone down a different developmental tract, but in a fight he didn’t think his drone fleet would be that badly outmatched ship to ship.

Would they have fought to protect the lizards? Of course they would. They’re willing to sell out everyone else to get their supply of disposable troops, so why wouldn’t they be willing to fight to protect them?

But then, they’d be losing their own ships in the process and they had to have at least an inkling how powerful Star Force was. Maybe they were simply going to impose themselves in between the two sides and make Star Force engage them. These records didn’t specify, but it was clear that the Trinx were responsible for the protection of those two systems.

The other eight races weren’t even mentioned in most of the records. It seemed they’d only emerged once this Uriti was discovered. The Trinx had given them information about probably locations and asked/demanded that they search for it as an addendum to their deal and to insure that this one, if it existed, didn’t get free like the other had when the lizards had stumbled onto it. There was no additional payment mentioned for the search, so Paul assumed it had been an ultimatum.

But the lizards were still here and apparently included in the search parties. That hadn’t been specified in the records, and only a very small amount of information on the other 8 races were included, all of which had been taken from comm intercepts and observations. They hadn’t gone to the curtesy of even introducing themselves. The lizards were apparently the Trinx’s pet project, and the big boys had come in to defend the system when the Uriti had been found and were tolerating them by all by ignoring their presence.

That was probably why the Yisv didn’t think that removing the lizards from the planet was a big deal.

The templar here had been assigned to this search project and had been down to the planet on numerous occasions, based off his personal notes which were structured as reports that would be sent back to the other templars via courier ship. Too bad he wasn’t still going down, else Paul might be able to snag him during transit. He had a feeling he’d be a little hesitant to slit his own throat, but a stun pulse pumped into the hull of a kirby or slightly larger transport should be able to disable everyone inside. No chance of that with a cruiser or any ship even remotely that large.

Too bad Kara wasn’t here. She might have a chance of sneaking onboard and grabbing him before anyone was the wiser. If she could he wouldn’t give a damn about the Trinx or their buddies. He’d get to that ship and extricate the bastard no matter how many drones he had to lose in the process.

But would these allies fight to protect this lizard fleet at all given Riley’s promise of a solution to their gigantic problem? Maybe, maybe not. The lizards were still supplying the troops they needed and so far, as had been stated, all Riley had given was a promise with no proof.

It was going to be some time before a ship got back from Earth, and until then Paul was just going to have to burn time on workouts in the sanctum and pilfering through the templar’s records. There was a lot here, but a good chunk of it was mundane gibberish that apparently was important within the templar ranks. He didn’t get the feeling that they were a separate race within a race, but rather an elite group of leaders that had as many numbers as was needed for their tasks…though they did seem to be highly interactive with each other socially, which was the total opposite of the mastermind interrelations, which didn’t exist at all.

Also in these records were the visuals of the other Uriti that had broken free of its bonds and the lizards’ pathetic attempts to destroy it. From those records they’d been able to confirm that it was Namishta, the 78th Uriti produced, and one that had been lost well over a quarter of the distance around the galactic spiral.

That suggested to Paul one of two things…either this Uriti had traveled on its own after the Chixzon lost it, or those who had captured it had moved it a great distance in order to hide its location. The prison that it had been held within was a giant shell that the lizards had breached, inside of which held the apparatus to keep sedate and feed the beast, for starving it to death wasn’t an option. If it felt any pain, any sense of emergency, or even the slightest physical stimulus it would begin to wake, so the only way to keep it still was to keep it in pristine condition and the shell-like prison was also a factory digging out material from the planetary core to feed it indefinitely.

This prison facility was expected to be the same, but the dimensions were different. Same construction but a different size, which made sense, given that all of the Uriti were different size and form. The one on the planet below had yet to be identified, but if spacing held uniform within these prisons, Paul narrowed its identity down to some 23 Uriti, though there would be no way of knowing for sure until someone went inside and got a look at it, for sensor scans couldn’t penetrate the shell.

Paul and Riley had already discussed that, with the other trailblazer insisting that he’d be the one to go have a look while Paul stayed up here to do what was needed if his brother suffered some catastrophe from being in such close proximity to that large of a telepathic presence.

Paul didn’t think that would be an issue if other non-telepathic races could stand it, for his mind was far more hardy. He guessed these Yisv were telepathy sensitive, meaning they could see but not shut their ‘third eye’ to what was around them. Zen’zat could, which was why Riley wasn’t too concerned.

But one of them had to stay up here just in case, and after all, Paul was ‘The Admiral.’

Yet another example of why he occasionally hated that nickname, because he really wanted to go down and see this thing in person.

8

July 8, 3254

Unnamed System

(Uriti/Hamoriti location)

Riley’s dropship landed him on a lizard-built pad over the Uriti’s location, but none of the scaly green bastards were around, either in vision or telepathic range. The massive presence that was the buried beast was ever present now, but not as intense as Riley had thought. He has having no difficulty whatsoever as he walked through the atmospheric containment field and off the boarding ramp in his bright pink armor along with a pair of flanking Knights that each stood a head taller than him. They wore their bright white armor, bracketing him as they walked towards the alien races waiting for them on the far side of the pad, inside a breathable pocket of atmosphere.

As stated, the Yisv were not present, but the other eight races were with numerous team members here and everywhere else to either offer support or security, Riley wasn’t sure which, for a lot of them were unarmed. Maybe they’d replaced the lizards in support functions, but then that asked the question what exactly had the lizards built that needed to be maintained?

The answer was nothing. Which meant that all these people were either here sightseeing or they wanted to outnumber the Humans.

“Welcome,” the cyborg representative in the small group that met them offered, with his words being translated directly now that they’d exchanged language files and Riley’s armor had been updated with all native linguistics that these races possessed, including the Ancient language that they typically used with each other. “The aperture is now open. The Oracle is inside and waiting.”

“Let’s go,” Riley said, not wanting to stand around and talk.

“Are you being adversely affected?” the Sety asked.

“Not yet. Just a big telepathic humming that is easy enough to shut out.”

“If that changes let us know,” the Trinx added as it turned and began walking into the entry cupola behind them. Once inside the group was lowered down through the structure and into the caverns that had been dug around the Uriti by the lizards. When Riley and the Knights came out they found themselves on a large plaza with a huge red wall covered with a lattice of structural supports that were keeping the ceiling from caving in on the well-lit floor filled with various open air compartments that looked to be set up for a mixture of research and supply.

“What does the color denote?” Riley asked.

“We do not know,” the cyborg answered. “Some are the same, others different. There is no correlation that we have discovered. The aperture is up there,” it said, pointing into the ceiling along the far right section where there was a large staircase that wrapped around what looked like another lift.

“How did they find this one?”

“There is a signal the Ancients left to locate them. It requires close proximity, but overhead flights beaming the transmission down into the surface revealed its approximate location. Digging efforts were then undertaken, but the Li’vorkrachnika were not aware of the aperture’s location until we revealed it to them. They began digging before we arrived, else we would have tunneled straight to it.”

“You told them to wait?”

“Not specifically, but after they accidentally woke the other one we wrongly assumed they wouldn’t be so reckless. Fortunately they did not attempt to force entry, merely excavated this site to give us physical access to the shell,” the cyborg explained as they walked.

There was no further talking until they got to the lift, whereupon the tanky Breti finally asked a question as the extraneous members of their party stayed behind and only one of each race entered along with Riley and his two Knights.

“How were these Chixzon overcome?”

“They had put too much faith in the Uriti. When they were neutralized they were hunted down to their extinction and did not have enough alternative means of waging war sufficient to ward off those they had intimidated into submission.”

“They leveraged other races with the threat alone?”

“As I understand it, yes.”

“And your knowledge comes from their own records?”

“It does.”

“Which may have been altered.”

“As could those stored here,” Riley pointed out. “It will be interesting to see how much overlaps.”

“Are you certain the Chixzon were fully destroyed?”

“Their records indicated it was only a matter of time. They saw no way to avoid the deaths of every last one of them.”

“Could they not flee?” the short Dati asked as the doors sealed and they began to rise.

“They were so despised they did not see that they had anywhere to go, so they stuck together and held out as long as they could,” he explained, not adding any information about their planned resurrection.

“The Ancients were destroyed in a similar manner. Their records say that the effort to sedate the Hamoriti was too costly, and that others rose up to deplace them in the aftermath.”

“Are you sure they’re all gone?”

“We have searched for their remnants, living or otherwise, and found nothing to indicate they still remain. We still held some hope, if only that they would tell us how to recapture the beast.”

“I thought you said there were war records?”

“Most of those detail how to defeat the minions and how to maintain the sedation. There is curiously nothing about the means used to first administer the sedative. All of our attempts have failed miserably.”

“Maybe they had help.”

“Perhaps so,” the small triped said as the doors opened and they walked out into a chamber of different make. The lizard infrastructure transitioned into something else that was built around the massive red wall before them that stretched out for the length of a football field.

“How many entrances are there?”

“We suspect 6, but we have been unable to confirm any others. It requires visual inspection given the rock surrounding the structure. The detail on the surface of the shell is very fine and easy to miss.”

“Do you have a key?”

“Of sorts. You have to enter a code that the Ancients devised to test any potential interloper’s intelligence. It is not difficult, but was designed to prevent anyone without sufficient understanding of the threat from accidentally gaining entry and waking the beast.”

“And the lizards didn’t bother with the door the other time?”

“No, they cut straight through not even realizing it had one,” it said, gesturing towards the already open aperture that was flanked by two of the Trinx’s combat machines. Riley stared up at one of them, figuring it was almost too heavy to telepathically lift, but should be easy enough to knock down without having to lay a finger on it.

“The Oracle awaits,” the Trinx said as it led the way inside.

As soon as Riley stepped over the imperceptible gap between structure and prison he must have passed through some sort of a containment field, for the mental presence of the Uriti grew immensely stronger. He staggered a step, but quickly regained his balance as two of the others noticed his wobble.

“I’m alright. I just didn’t expect it to spike like that.”

“What has happened?” the Domu asked, spinning about on all four legs to look at him.

“The prison is containing some of its power. I’m alright, I just had to filter out more than I was prepared for.”

“It will increase the closer you get in proximity to it. Venture too close and your mind will no longer be your own,” the Sety warned.

“And you all feel nothing?”

“We do not have telepathy,” the Trinx stated flatly.

“No, but it does have an effect on you. I can see it. You don’t notice it?”

“What effect?”

“Paranoia.”

“Of course we fear it,” the Sety said.

“No, not fear. Paranoia. It’s amping up your angst, whether by design or accident. Your minds are not immune to its telepathic presence. I’m simply aware of it and can filter it out.”

“No telepath has come this far before,” the Trinx said ominously. “They have all turned back in a panic, stating that closer exposure would kill them.”

“If they’re sensitive enough and lack defensive mechanisms it’s possible.”

“I assume you have them then? These defense mechanisms?”

“Yes.”

“If what he says is true, it explains several things,” the cyborg stated.

“Let us ask the Oracle then,” the Sety insisted, walking forward without waiting for the others to follow.

Riley went with them, looking around at the interesting architecture. This wasn’t industrial, rather it was made to house guests, like a welcome center. That seemed odd, like it was an amusement park or something, but he guessed the purpose of this place was to not only contain the Uriti through physical means but by also teaching others of the threat and how to contain it.

Still, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he saw a ticket booth pop up somewhere.

Eventually they came to what looked like a small amphitheater with a holographic array at the center. On approach a tri-tipped symbol flared to life and turned to face them and began speaking in the Ancient language, though Riley had been told that it would adapt to whomever came here, learning their new language in a remarkably short period of time.

“Welcome guests. You come with more questions?”

“We have a new guest,” the Sety said amicably, almost reverently towards the hologram. “They have questions.”

Riley stepped forward, looking through his helmet at the intricate hologram with his armor translating.

“Ask,” it bluntly suggested.

“Display the locations of all known Uriti.”

The hologram didn’t respond at first, then began to speak without showing him a map. “Your terminology is unfamiliar. Do you refer to the occupant of this facility?”

“Yes. You do not know what they were originally called?”

“The Ancients classified the Hamoriti as they saw fit, not having any data on their origination.”

“They are called Uriti,” Riley began to lecture. “There were originally 118 created by a race called the Chixzon. How many are currently contained within prisons such as this?”

“I cannot confirm your data. Knowledge of source material references 7 original captures and three additions. The Ancients did not know there were more than 7 that required capture, and well after the sedation of the originals three more were discovered. The efforts to contain them cost the Ancients much, but these three were also neutralized, one of which rests here. It cannot be allowed to awaken under any circumstances.”

“Describe its telepathic presence.”

“The Hamoriti emits an immense telepathic signature with varying effects subjected on those that come within various distances of proximity to it. This range can be measured to determine the waking state of the Hamoriti. At close range biological minds become frozen and enthralled. Were the Hamoriti active it could bid them to do its will, but in this state they simply become catatonic in a rigid state. Do not approach the Hamoriti. Before you come within physical contact with it you will become entrapped. Any attacks against the Hamoriti will begin to awaken it. Distance must be maintained for both reasons.”

“How did the Ancients capture the Hamoriti?”

“By use of a chemical that sedates them to this day. It must be produced and administered constantly. Large doses will render active ones sedate.”

“How was the sedative delivered originally?”

“Undetermined. This facility was constructed after the Hamoriti was sedated. All knowledge instilled is for the purpose of containment. Release and recapture is not an option. The Hamoriti must not be allowed to awake.”

“One already has. What do you advise?”

“This has been told to me. Deliverance of the chemical will sedate the Hamoriti. I have supplied several delivery options. I have been told none have been successful. No historical records exist concerning the method the Ancients used. If the Ancients cannot be found, then there is no hope to contain this Hamoriti. Attempts must be made, but there is no viable outcome if the Hamoriti has fully wakened.”

“Why would the Ancients build you without knowledge of how they conquered the Uriti?”

“The Ancients did not build me.”

That brought a reaction in the minds of the eight alien minds around Riley, as if they hadn’t expected it to say that.

“Who built you?”

“I am a construct of a collaboration of races utilizing Ancient technology in their absence.”

“Did the Ancients give this collaboration of races this Hamoriti in order to imprison it?”

“They did.”

“Where were the Ancients located?”

“That knowledge is not within my files.”

“What happened to the races that built this facility?”

“Their fate is unknown. Past creation of this facility they did not interface with it.”

“Identify them.”

A slew of holographic aliens popped up around the Oracle, resplendent with statistics that were written in a language that he couldn’t read. But there was one race that stuck out to him while the others were totally unfamiliar.

The Preema.

“How did these races utilize the Ancient technology without understanding it?”

“The Ancients provided them with the necessary skills and tools to construct this facility. Knowledge beyond this was not required.”

“Why was this collaboration required?”

“Unknown.”

“Has information on the Ancients been deliberately withheld from your databanks?”

“It has.”

Another reaction from the Nine. Apparently no one had thought to ask that question…or maybe this Oracle had significantly different programming than the other ones they had access to.

“For what purpose?”

“Only knowledge relevant to the maintenance of this facility and the continued sedation of the Hamoriti is of importance.”

“Oracle,” the Trinx said, interrupting almost apologetically. “The others contained data concerning the fight against the Hamoriti’s minions. There is a long and detailed war record of the Ancients and how they defeated them. Do you not have this information?”

“I do not contain war records. I contain all necessary information on the minions and their capabilities.”

“If there is no hope to stop them once awakened,” Riley asked, “why contain information on the minions? Can they be spawned while the Uriti sleeps?”

“They cannot. The information is within my files. I do not know why it has been included other than to stall the advance if a Hamoriti was ever released.”

“Is your programming the same as the other Oracles?”

“I have no knowledge of the other two Oracles beyond their basic function and locations.”

“Do you know the locations of the original 7?”

“I do not.”

“Do you have compartmentalized programming?”

“Possibly. When analyzing recent events that seems to be a theoretical possibility. However, if I do possess such restraints I was not made aware of them.”

“Speculate.”

The Oracle processed for a good three seconds before speaking again. “If the total number of Hamoriti was 118, then it is feasible that different factions were tasked with their imprisonment. Regionality of those within my files suggest that others may have been tasked with similar regional containment procedures. The release of a single Hamoriti without the presence of the Ancients is catastrophic, but safeguards may have been implemented so that the location of one set of Hamoriti, if discovered by those who did not heed the danger, would not result in the release of them all. This runs counter to the necessity to educate guests about the dangers present and inform them of the other locations of Hamoriti within this region, but it is possible.”

“What is the status of this Hamoriti?”

“Its condition is stable. Planetary supply feed is stable. No anomalies to report in either since the inception of the sedation.”

“Open the inner chamber.”

“I advise extreme caution. For what purpose do you wish entry?”

“I need to test the telepathic intensity through personal exposure.”

“I can provide all necessary data without such exposure.”

“Show me data for telepathic races within proximity of the Hamoriti.”

“Telepathic races cannot come within even local range without adverse side effects.”

“Define ‘local range.’”

“Within this facility. The outer shell dampens the effect on the planet, but within it telepaths will suffer catastrophic damage.”

“I am telepathic and I am not suffering damage. I need to determine what threat the Hamoriti present to me by getting closer. Is the inner chamber also shielded to reduce telepathic presence?”

“No. I cannot scan you through your armor. Please remove it to confirm telepathic presence.”

Riley released his helmet, with it peeling back and revealing his head. A holographic wand of light scanned his face three times before retracting.

“Telepathic immunity confirmed. You are the first race with sufficient resistance to enter this facility.”

“How many others have visited here prior to the most recent opening of the entrance?”

“None since the commission date.”

“You were told it was not possible?”

“So my data suggests. Recent scans contradict this. Permission to enter granted. I will scan you throughout the duration to update my files. Such an immunity, even in limited fashion, is a new addition to the combat lexicon in my files. Any new additions take priority. Please accompany me,” the Oracle said, with his hologram disconnecting from the emission pillar and floating out over the heads of the guests and towards an opening door on the far wall that led to more of the catacombs that made up the outer rings of the facility.

9

Riley whistled, with the sound being eaten up by the enormity of the cavern he’d just walked into. No echo, just a very dull silence in the kilometers between the entrance and the Uriti sleeping on the floor in the center.

“Now that is one big mother fucker,” he whispered to himself as the others stayed back at the entrance, including his two Knights, as he walked slowly in towards the beast that would have made Godzilla look like an ant. This one was pale yellow and had a giant wing draped over its side crunching up on the ground, leaving only a bit of a snout visible from Riley’s position. The wing didn’t look scrawny, and the trailblazer knew it didn’t function like an actual wing, for this thing was too large and far too heavy to actually fly that way.

He heard the sound of his footsteps and nothing else as he continued to walk closer, being patient with this test and having a lot of ground to cover to get close to the creature. Apparently none of the other races had convinced the Oracle to give them access yet, so this was the first time they were seeing it and due to an overabundance of caution they’d stated they would not come any closer than the doorway.

“Oracle?”

“Yes,” the hologram said, suddenly appearing beside him and matching his pace.

“Is it responding to my presence?”

“Not at all. Why would you suspect it would?”

“My mind is not structured like others. If it is trying to access it, it will fail.”

“Interesting. Your present scans do not show any tampering, though I am certain that you are well within the rage of telepathic sensitivity overload. Your immunity is indeed curious.”

“I can still feel it. A rhythmic hum. What would happen if I tried to connect with it?”

“You could not damage it.”

“Would that wake it?”

“Uncertain. The Hamoriti responds to various stimuli and begins to counteract the sedative with a state of alertness, but all noted instances have been physical stimuli. No telepathic testing has ever been done.”

“I thought you said there had been no incidents here.”

“I have been given knowledge from other sources. They contain data on waking states of other Hamoriti without specifics identifying them. It is necessary for me to insure this one does not wake. You no longer need your translation program. I have successfully analyzed your language and can replicate it at will,” the Oracle said, with its last sentence being spoken in English.

Riley withdrew the little bit of helmet that had snaked up to cover his left ear. “That was quick.”

“Neural calibration and sample size allow for a quick study. Your questions have given me enough of both to analyze, though degree of accuracy will increase with time.”

“Has it moved since being placed in here?”

“Minor contractions and a partial roll, yes, but it has not gained consciousness. Such stirrings are expected to maintain passive rest. If one portion of its body stays in contact with the floor for too long a period of time it instinctively adjusts. If not allowed to, it will cause an internal discord that will result in its awakening. Thus the prison was designed with no restraints. It can readjust as needed, and if it strays close to one of the walls it can be repositioned slowly using a number of levitation systems. You are beginning to show anomalies yourself.”

“Touch of a headache,” Riley confirmed. “I think it’s the sheer telepathic pressure.”

“How long do you think you can persist?”

“This is nothing,” he said as he continued to walk and the symbol floated beside him.

“Is it too much to attempt to communicate under?”

“You want me to try?”

“I merely ask for confirmation of my current scans.”

“I could shout at it, but there’s probably too much feedback for me to open up to it this close. My own range is further, but a lot of Archons wouldn’t be able to transmit to it at this range.”

“The Hamoriti is incredibly sensitive to telepathic signals. Assume greater range of reception.”

“How does something that big pay attention to things that small?”

“I have studied it every moment since it arrived here. Its mind is vast and complex, and continually resists the sedative. That is why more must be applied continuously. If not, it will wake itself up. It is incredibly resilient.”

“I’ve never seen anything this large aside from a jumpship.”

“They are the largest known beings within the galaxy.”

Riley held his tongue on that one. The V’kit’no’sat had found a few others larger than a Hadarak.

“What do you know of the Ancients? Is that their actual name?”

“It is how I was programmed to refer to them.”

“Can you show me a picture of them?”

A second hologram appeared beside the Oracle, this one of a slender biped that had arms that nearly touched the floor.

“And they commissioned the other races to build you?”

“Yes.”

“Did the Ancients have any peers?”

“That information is not within my files.”

“Did they leave a message?”

“They left me to communicate with any that found the Hamoriti.”

“Why was it not guarded? Why was it buried and left unprotected?”

“Secrecy was paramount.”

“Why?”

“No one could be trusted with the knowledge of the location.”

“What about those that built it?”

“They were destroyed when their ships flew into the star of this system.”

Riley stopped walking. “Intentionally?”

“Secrecy must be maintained. The order was given by those that constructed me, and I carried it out when they attempted to leave to insure no ship could survive.”

“Did the workers know?”

“Most did not. Those loyal to the cause completed their tasks then fulfilled their responsibilities by going to their deaths willingly. Not all the crews chose to do so when they realized what was happening, but they were unable to override my programming.”

“Why was it deemed necessary that they die?”

“They could not be trusted.”

“Why specifically?”

“There was fear that a race could extort others with a threatened release of the Hamoriti.”

“And what about now?”

“Your races are new, and I am educating you as to the dangers present. The politics of the past are no longer binding. The hiding of the Hamoriti was designed to insure this.”

“By murdering the people that worked to build this place?”

“A small price to pay, but a necessary one.”

“Did the order come from the Ancients or the races they tasked with building this place?”

“Those tasked, but I believe the idea originated with the Ancients. I was not supplied with data on that, but based off conversations I observed and the complexity of the override program, I believe it could only have come from them.”

“Was this method used to create the original 7 prisons?”

“I do not have that data.”

“Speculate.”

“If it was the Ancients who constructed the original 7 themselves, they may have spared their own workers, or they could have enforced the same security measures.”

“This place is buried in rock. How was it covered over?” Riley asked, beginning to walk again as he suppressed his growing anger with these Ancients and focused on holding off his growing headache.

“Camouflage techniques were utilized to mimic surrounding rock layers. It was synthesized after this facility was completed, as were surface variations and vegetation. The later was hyper grown in artificial chambers to generate the size of plants necessary to obscure the dig site and not leave it with obvious new growth. Since then nature has taken its course and concealed the site, though the vegetation no longer remains on the planet.”

Riley ignored the Oracle, his eyes now on the small mountain that was the Uriti before him as it got bigger and bigger the closer he walked. “Is there any way this facility can be monitored remotely?”

“No. Any signal sent could betray its location.”

“Was this planet inhabited or claimed by any faction when this facility was created?”

“No. It is located in a neutral zone.”

“Neutral zone?”

“One of many regions decimated by the Hamoriti and agreed by the major powers not to be claimed by anyone else for a period of years. The agreements varied in both length and terms, but it was deemed that within one of these zones the secrecy of this location would be maintained by the agreement without it being known that there was a secondary purpose.”

“This planet’s atmosphere is thin, but habitable for some races. What if someone eventually colonized it?”

“This facility has been built with sensor dampening material to prevent its detection via most traditional methods. It is also deeper within the surface of the planet than most races will dig even if they should place a city directly over top of the site. Eventual detection was assumed, thus it is my task to educate those to the dangers presented not only to this system but across the galaxy should this Hamoriti be released.”

Three steps later and Riley stumbled as another surge of pressure on his mind caught him off guard.

“You have passed into the second aura of the Hamoriti. Can you continue?”

“Define ‘second aura.’”

“It is the region where most races will begin to feel physically ill. It takes place gradually, but there is a distinct range limitation on the energy being produce.”

“Not telepathic?”

“Not entirely.”

Riley steadied himself and flushed a wave of energy through his own body, ending with a few Jumat spurts out the small gap between neck and armor.

“Your condition has improved. What have you done?”

“Reinforced myself. And the effect is telepathic, but my entire body is being doubled as a receiver. I’m counter pushing to neutralize it,” he said, walking on.

“Amazing redundancy,” the Oracle commented. “Your body scan is impossible with your armor on, but what is occurring within your head is remarkable. Sadly, even if we could replicate your abilities, it would be of no value if this Hamoriti awakened, though research could prove fruitful again.”

“Again?”

“The chemical sedative was derived from a naturally occurring substance in a race that was wiped out by another Hamoriti. Some were enthralled and given close proximity to the beast, but as they eventually died out their bodies underwent a natural decomposition sequence that included the creation and release of the chemical. Eventually the effect it had on the Hamoriti, small as it was, was detected and the source derived. Had it not been for that unique biology, the synthetic chemical would never have been produced.”

“Same effect or better?”

“Far better. Once discovered, the chemical was reworked to increase efficiency. There were latent structural inhibitors in the molecule that were stripped out to create the purest form possible with the least mass. The Ancients enhanced the natural chemical even before they fully understood why it worked. After years of study, we still do not fully understand the weakness.”

“What do you know?”

“It is a calming agent. Working like a chemical information package that instructs the Hamoriti to become inactive. You spoke of potential creators of the Hamoriti. Does your knowledge contain the method they used to instruct them where to attack? My records indicate that the attacks were not random.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have information regarding the war?”

The Oracle was silent for a moment. “It is possible I have been programmed to only reveal certain knowledge when it is necessary. Your earlier statements regarding compartmentalized programming appear to be valid.”

“Do you have the ability to kill the guests if they do not heed the danger of the Hamoriti?”

“Yes.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. “Do the others know that?”

“They did not inquire.”

“Are you going to try to kill me?”

“You are far too valuable. The data I am gathering from this experiment will need to be cataloged and analyzed.”

“Which can be done after I am dead,” Riley pointed out.

“I have no need to kill you unless you threaten to awake the Hamoriti…and your proximity to it is not yet provoking a response. Is it true that you have a means to control it?”

Riley’s eyes were finally torn away from the beast and he looked directly at the floating hologram. “How do you know about that?”

“I can monitor the activity in the cavern that was dug around the entrance. The other races were discussing your arrival and your claims to have a means to control the Hamoriti. Do you have such a means?”

“Yes we do. Though I am told its effectiveness depends on which Hamoriti is in question. The older ones were more difficult to control.”

“How so?”

“Each time one was created the control process was refined and updated.”

“Then they do not reproduce on their own?”

“No.”

“Yet they have the internal mechanisms to do so.”

“They do?”

“Indeed. But no Hamoriti has ever been observed reproducing. It is speculated that such things occur within a planet or star where monitoring cannot be achieved.”

“Show me.”

Another hologram manifested itself, situated in front of Riley’s eye line so that it overlaid the sleeping Hamoriti. A specific internal area was highlighted, and immediately the trailblazer knew the Oracle was in error.

“That is not a reproductive system.”

“All data suggests otherwise.”

“It creates something, but it isn’t another Uriti.”

“What then does it create?” the Oracle asked as Riley rubbed his forehead with his armored fingertips. The headache was increasing considerably and he was still a few kilometers away from the thing.

“Were any of the attacked systems not destroyed?”

“Every system attacked by a Hamoriti was either destroyed or heavily damaged.”

“Were any ever captured?”

“Define ‘capture.’”

“Did the Uriti ever take a world away and keep it?”

“The Hamoriti are beasts of destruction. They have never conquered a world in the traditional fashion.”

“That location within it has the ability to grow a city to put on claimed worlds. It creates a large mass that it then deposits on a planet. That mass then continues to grow into a city that the Chixzon can inhabit when they arrive after the fact without need for massive construction projects. No one was probably ever alive to see them do it. The Uriti cannot reproduce. They have been engineered not to be able to.”

“How then are they produced?”

“By an even larger creature that they captured from the deep core of the galaxy. They forced it to spawn, and its offspring were heavily altered to become the living weapons the Chixzon wanted. That is why no two Uriti look the same. Each is designed differently, as both weapon and research specimen.”

“They were attempting new combinations with each spawning?”

“Yes,” Riley said, cringing.

“The third aura draws near. It is where all others have ceased functioning. Do you still want to proceed?”

“Give me a holographic field marking its location so I can proceed carefully.”

In front of him a wall of glowing red energy appeared and he walked up to it slowly. The edge was hazy, for it wasn’t a firm boundary, and Riley stuck his arm through without feeling anything new. He slowly moved his head in and felt a vice crunch down on his brain, but he didn’t lose his ability to move.

He took a few long, slow breaths and focused, summoning his internal energy that was a mix of psionics and willpower and pushed back with considerable effort, giving his mind a narrow window of opportunity to align itself.

“Damn that’s heavy,” he told the Oracle. “I can’t hold this effort indefinitely. Is there a fourth aura?”

“No, but there are point defenses. They will not activate against slow moving objects, so you are not a threat so long as you continue walking. The data I am getting from you is truly remarkable. There are two types of energy surging through your body that I cannot even identify.”

“Glad to make your day,” he said, pushing through the holographic wall and picking up his walking pace slightly, realizing he was on the clock. “Any reaction from Bahamut there?”

“This Hamoriti’s name is Glaech. Is Bahamut the name given to it by its creators?”

“No. It’s the name given to it by me…right now,” he said with effort as he walked steadily towards the crunched wing resting on the floor.

“There is no need to proceed further. Maintaining this position will give me all necessary data. The closer you get the further you will be from the lesser impact zone, thus imperiling your escape should your strength evaporate.”

“Noted,” Riley said as he continued onward, the Uriti now a huge angled wall before him. He could see that the ‘skin’ of it was soft as silk, visually speaking, but he knew from the records that it was harder than any substance that Star Force could produce. It would bend, he knew, but was a corovon-heavy substance that you could fire weapon after weapon into and barely scratch…not to mention that the Uriti could heal itself if you did scratch it, meaning it had renewable armor whereas a starship did not.

That and many other things about it impressed Riley, but at the moment most of his focus was on defying its telepathic domination through a mix of his Ikrid block and his own mental strength. Too much pressure, even on a blocked mind, could physically burn out the components that were sensitive to the signals…meaning that if this Uriti was awake, it could kill Riley with a mere thought at this range.

Or just roll over and squash him.

Most people operated with minds that could be accessed via telepathy, even if they weren’t overly sensitive to it, and Riley now understood why telepaths didn’t want to get near this thing. Only someone whose mind wasn’t telepathically sensitive at all wouldn’t be affected, and the V’kit’no’sat had a long list of only 4 races that fit into that category…all of whom they’d killed because of that fact.

Riley finally got to within a few meters of the Uriti and looked straight up, seeing the ceiling beyond and the steeply angled wing as it lay like a giant slide before him. Focusing on the moment, Riley continued to resist the massive weight on his mind and use it like a training session, getting a feel for its strength and his own before he was satisfied.

“Will physical contact wake it?”

“Only damaging efforts. You are incapable of any such thing.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, but it’s good to know,” he said, reaching out his armored hand and placing it against the pale yellow wing and pushing slightly. It did not give under his pressure, feeling like an incredibly solid glass structure.

“Coup counted,” he said for the benefit of the universe, as if it were keeping score. He was tempted to take his glove off and make physical contact, but if this thing’s skin was sensitive to his physical Ikrid hacking, which he doubted, the feedback would probably kill him.

“Ok, I’ve seen enough,” he said, turning around and walking a few steps before breaking into a jog with the Oracle keeping pace effortlessly.

“Are you in danger of succumbing?”

“No, but I don’t want to linger here.”

“What is a coup?”

Riley smiled as he put his helmet back on, finding it didn’t help one iota as he ran towards the boundary line of the third aura.

10

November 25, 3254

Unnamed System

(Uriti/Hamoriti location)

“There it is,” Nefron said on the bridge of the Warship-class jumpship he rode on.

“I can’t feel anything,” the Archon mage standing next to him said with a frown.

“It is very faint from this range,” he said as they drifted lower into planetary orbit, having just come out of their microjump deceleration, “but I know what to look for. Cardosan’s energy is greatly reduced, but I can feel it even from here.”

“How do you know which one it is?”

“They all have a different telepathic signature,” the Chixzon said as he saw the massive fleets arrayed in orbit…both Star Force and the self-appointed planetary defenders, though the lizards were nowhere to be seen. “This is Cardosan. Their 67th production.”

“Easy to control?”

“Easier than others, harder than some. The message indicated that we were not to wake this one up, only to inspect it.”

“That’s what they want,” the Archon scoffed. “Do we want to wake it up?”

“Not when there is another one already running rampant. If they were all dormant, then yes, we would need to awaken one, but there are things I can learn from the other without tampering with the sleep this one is confined to.”

“How do they survive so long sleeping?”

“They are remarkably resilient. Had it not been for the creation of the chemical sedative, the galaxy would not have been able to stop them.”

“I thought two were destroyed.”

“Through mismanagement, yes. They can be killed, but it is a great feat to do so. Time alone cannot kill them. They are immune to the worse effects of stagnation.”

“Archon,” the ship’s captain interrupted. “The trailblazers want Nefron taken to the surface immediately. They will meet him at the Uriti site.”

The mage nodded and turned towards the bridge exit. “Let’s go.”

Riley met the pair on the landing pad, monitoring the reactions of the eight representatives with him as they saw Nefron walk off the dropship along with the dark blue armored Archon after it landed directly in the atmospheric pocket next to the cupola. There was no recognition, but there was a great deal of trepidation. Nefron looked ghastly in an intimidating way, and the effect didn’t lessen as he approached.

“About time you got here.”

“My apologies, Riley. It took some time to gather the necessary materials. We assembled it enroute to save time.”

“You’re forgiven,” the Archon said sarcastically. “Come on inside and meet Bahamut.”

“Bahamut?”

“I named him.”

“As you wish.”

“You don’t approve?”

“I am unfamiliar with that name.”

“Comes from a kickass video game series called Final Fantasy. Look it up when you get some spare time.”

“Another of your antiquated classics?”

“You say that like you don’t care,” Riley said deadpan.

“Call him what you wish.”

“Thank you,” the trailblazer said, gesturing to the nearby races. “These are the guys that have taken up stewardship.”

“What is the Uriti’s condition?” Nefron asked bluntly.

“Still sedate,” the cyborg said, sizing him up. “You are an expert on the Uriti?”

“I am.”

“How do you intend to control them?”

“I have a transmitter that will send the necessary control signals.”

“Untested?”

“It was built from the design of those who originally used it. This particular one was just constructed.”

“You don’t intend to test it here?” the Sety asked.

“No, I do not.”

“Then what is it that you need to see?”

“What has been done to the Uriti. It has been incapacitated by those that do not fully understand its function. I do. I need to confirm its status and diagnose any unforeseen problems.”

“The Ancients have successfully kept these beasts in check since their capture. Their systems function perfectly if not disturbed,” the cyborg stated evenly.

“I need to confirm that.”

“What do you fear?” the Trinx asked.

“Many things, but I am hoping all is well.”

“Be specific,” he reiterated, standing between Nefron and the lift that would take them down into the planet.

“They can communicate with each other. If the other gets close enough, it may be able to wake this one. I need to see just how sedate Cardosan is.”

Riley coughed.

“I said you can call it what you want, not that I would reciprocate.”

“Fair enough,” the Archon surrendered with a smile.

“You have studied the Chixzon intensely?” the shapeshifter asked.

“I possess their knowledge.”

“Do you know why they created the Hamoriti?”

“To dominate the galaxy…no less.”

“They sought to destroy everything?”

“No, they sought to intimate. They destroyed only those who would not submit, and to give visible examples to others so that they would. They would rather rule by extortion than conquest.”

“Let’s take him inside,” the small Dati suggested. “Perhaps he will have some more pertinent questions for the Oracle.”

“It’s locked us out of the Uriti chamber after I went in,” Riley explained. “It doesn’t trust us enough to let us sightsee.”

“But it let you in earlier?” Nefron asked as they stepped into the lift.

“It said it wanted to study my resistance to the telepathic aura.”

“It is quite strong. How close did you get before you had to turn back?”

Riley smiled. “I made it all the way.”

Nefron looked at him closely as the doors shut them in and they began to descend.

“It hurt,” he admitted. “A lot, but I was able to hold it together long enough to get to it.”

“What did you do?”

“I touched it.”

“You touched it?” Nefron said quizzically, then a surge of worry ran through him.

“No, I didn’t connect to it. Figured that might kill me before I knew what was happening.”

“You probably couldn’t get through its armor anyway. The Chixzon could never get within touching range of them. They had to craft them from afar.”

“They made them so dangerous even they could not touch them?” the Sety asked.

“Their power was craved, thus safety requirements were not considered relevant. They were never meant to cohabitate systems. They would be kept outside Chixzon worlds and released into target populations. They did not trust them anywhere near their own colonies, but they did utilize their minions for defensive purposes.”

“Are you feeling alright?” the mage asked.

“I will be able to sustain its presence so long as I do not come within 3 kilometers. I may be able to sustain outside of 2, but I do not want to test that theory. Already my mind is numb from the reverberations.”

“You are telepathic?” the cyborg asked.

“I am,” he said, standing next to the Archons with the other races keeping a little space between themselves and his black, rock-like armored body and his dangling spear-like limbs that were bracketing his head.

“What is your position within Star Force?” the Sety asked.

“He is a Chixzon specialist, as well as one of our leading geneticists,” Riley answered when Nefron telepathically deferred, not wanting to say something to give away the secret the trailblazers wanted hidden from The Nine.

“What is the range on this transmitter?” the cyborg asked after a moment of silence.

“It will not reach between star systems, but will reach everywhere inside one. Intensity will increase as the range shortens, and how much is required depends on which Uriti you are dealing with and what its current state is. During combat they do not listen well.”

Another silence followed, then the lift doors opened and they walked out beginning their hike across the hollowed out chasm with the red shell of the Ancient Hamoriti prison visible the moment they stepped out. They got halfway to the aperture lift when weaponsfire sounded up at the aperture along with several flashes in the otherwise dark upper reaches where the small lit platform resided.

“What are they firing at?” the Trinx asked quickly, accessing a wristbound communicator and retrieving information. Several other representatives did likewise, but it was the cyborg that answered first.

“The internal defenses have activated. Our guards are being driven out of the shell.”

“What caused this?” the Sety demanded.

Riley groaned. “Come on, Nefron. I’ll get you in even if I have to bust the door down myself.”

“The internal defenses are not to be trifled with,” the Trinx warned.

“Neither am I,” the trailblazer said as he, the mage, and Nefron began running ahead of the representatives. When they got to the base of the lift it wasn’t accessible, already halfway up and coming down, so the trio hit the stairs and began climbing the height the slow way. The representatives assembled a slew of personnel and came up the lift a bit behind the Star Force personnel that were standing on the edge of the platform and blocking lightning flashes being emitted from the perimeter of the aperture that had since closed.

Before the Trinx could order his pair of vassals forward, the dark blue armored Human darted forward and opened fired on the point where the lightning was coming from and covered it with blue plasma. That didn’t stop the weaponsfire at all, and eventually another point sent a lightning cascade towards him. His shields took the brunt of the attack, but his weapon was also hit and it exploded, knocking him backwards and onto the platform while most of the lightning attacks were still being directed at Riley who held position in front of Nefron and was blocking for him.

The mage got up and sprinted to the door, ducking under the point where the lightning was coming from and seeing if he could draw a shot at extreme close range. Either he couldn’t or the Ancient facility didn’t see him as the most valuable target, so he took his advantage and focused his Pefbar inside the wall…then began telekinetically twisting the parts to the lightning weapon until something popped and the weaponsfire from that point ceased.

Three more suddenly appeared around the aperture and shot him, getting through his shields and melting streaks across his armor. A split second later he was dragged backwards across the platform by the trailblazer’s telekinetic grasp as Riley sprinted forward, swapping places with the mage who got to his feet and stood up in front of Nefron while deploying a bioshield to cover the gaps between arms and legs where his armor would not block.

Two mechanical soldiers passed him by as the Trinx sent his vassals up past the charred remains of the previous ones that were lying scattered on the platform.

“Enough of this,” Nefron said with a snarl, running out from behind the mage and taking temporary cover behind one of the vassals. It blocked one lightning blast as Riley got to the wall and took out another weapons battery with his telekinesis, then two more new ones opened fire and zapped him with four shots in total, with his bioshields adding enough resistance to his mechanical ones to keep him in the game as he disabled another one.

Nefron ran around the much taller combat machine as it opened fire on one spot, catching a lightning blast in biologically armored chest and feeling the pain…but he did not fall. He yelled in a fury, catching two more lightning blasts that partially absorbed into his body. As he covered the last few meters to the wall six more lightning blasts hit him, ignoring Riley briefly as they focused all their available firepower on him.

He dropped to a knee as the energy rippled across his body, then he willed himself to stand up and surged forward with his eyes and his spike mandibles sparking into a luminous green.

When he got to the wall he jabbed one of them directly into the firing point of a weapon that was discharging. The lightning arcs covered him, but as soon as the glowing green tip of his biological spear sank into the armored wall the energy ceased. Another fired from his left, but the mage came up and interposed himself and took half the attack before Nefron shoved him aside and jabbed another glowing spike into it, repeating his attack multiple times until he and the two Archons destroyed all of the point defense weapons around the aperture.

Nefron groaned, then stood up straight and flexed before quickly punching his left fist into the red armored cocoon and discharged all of the energy that he had absorbed.

The shockwave was so loud most of the people present at the back of the platform were stunned, ears left ringing, and both Archons were knocked down while Nefron alone remained standing. He couldn’t sustain that much energy inside him for long, and the wall seemed the best place to get rid of it. Had he hit the platform he might have injured or killed those standing on it.

Where the red armor had been was now a three inch deep smoking hole charred ashy grey, and as the chaotic fight suddenly transitioned into panicked calm, he stood there with the representatives and their people crawling out of the lift and the troops they were hiding behind, whether they be vassals or armored version of their own races, and looking at him as the green glow left his body and he returned to pure black.

Everyone took a deep breath, then finally the cyborgs came forward, some six of them, and inspected the aperture, the damaged weapons, and the shallow crater Nefron had blown into the wall.

“What triggered this?” they asked, looking to the surviving guards that had fled the facility.

“We don’t know. It just started shooting us. There are people still inside that were hit.”

“They are most likely dead,” the Trinx said, carefully keeping one of the vassals between him and the aperture as more came up the lift along with other personnel in a second batch. Apparently no one else liked to take the stairs.

“How many more defenses are inside?” Nefron asked.

“Plenty,” Riley said, “but nothing I can’t handle. They don’t have this armor on the inside.”

“We must regain access to speak to the Oracle,” the shapeshifter said.

“I can get us in,” Nefron said, speaking to Riley and ignoring the others.

“Go ahead. I’ll cover you.”

Nefron snarled and his deep black eyes glowed green again along with his two spike mandibles that he thrust into the aperture door, having to push hard to get them to cut through the material but it didn’t resist him too much. Dragging the glowing tips down was slow, but eventually he got two vertical lines cut then started on the top as the Trinx walked up behind him.

“What are you?”

“Do you mind?” Riley asked flippantly. “He’s busy.”

Nefron ignored the Trinx, finishing his cut on the top then doing likewise on the bottom before pulling back and tucking his mandibles behind him as he put an armored shoulder into the heavy door plug and pushed it inside, toppling it over only to receive a short yellow beam from an internal weapons battery…but it never hit him, for Riley’s bioshield caught it as he came in behind Nefron and quickly got out in front of him with the mage coming through a split second later. The pair of Archons worked together to take down the nearby defense turrets with a combination of psionics and the plasma weapons they’d been carrying around on their armor racks.

“Clear,” Riley called back, with a heavily armored group of cyborgs coming in first, followed by the Trinx who looked at the Humans in complaint.

“I can’t get my vassals inside. The gap is too small.”

“Then widen it. We’re not waiting.”

Nefron breathed in deeply. The aura of Cardosan was much stronger now.

The holographic Oracle suddenly appeared before Riley, staring at him accusingly.

“How dare you bring him here!”

Riley stared back at the glowing image through his helmet, wishing it was real so he could vader it.

“Oh, so you do recognize him,” he snipped.

“He is the creator of the Hamoriti. His presence here threatens everything. He must be destroyed.”

“This one is a Chixzon?!” the Sety all but roared.

Nefron glanced at Riley. “Some quiet, please.”

The Archon took in a long breath himself, then the hasty complaints and outbursts from the aliens behind him suddenly stopped as all were frozen in place, including the Cyborgs, with only the vassals unhindered but standing by passively with no orders to operate on.

“Take your time,” Riley said, mentally telling the mage to handle security, for keeping this group suppressed was taking almost all of his focus. “I’ve got them.”

Nefron turned his attention to the Oracle, taking a step towards it with the image moving backwards reflexively despite the fact that it could not be harmed.

“Oracle, I am not here to release this Uriti, but it is within my power to do so from orbit if I so desire. You have no control here, so I will ask questions and you will answer if you wish to keep Cardosan dormant and fulfill your Ftrolee programming.”

Zealot

1

November 25, 3254

Unnamed System

(Uriti/Hamoriti location)

“You will not be granted access to this system.”

“I will have it with or without your assistance,” Nefron told the Oracle. “Your defense mechanisms will be disabled and your files accessed manually if needed. Answer my questions and I will allow you to remain intact and monitoring the Uriti. Failure to comply will mean your destruction.”

The Oracle hesitated the prerequisite 2.2 seconds, then answered per its programming.

“Maintenance of the Hamoriti is my primary task. I am authorized to use all available methods to contain it. Ask your questions, Chixzon.”

“Do you have a message for me?”

“You were never meant to find this facility.”

“I’m disappointed,” Nefron said honestly. “Usually the Ftrolee like to boast of their accomplishments. Confirm your programming origin.”

“Base program originates from the Ancients. Augmentations were made by the Ftrolee.”

“When did the Ftrolee destroy the Ancients?”

Riley, still heavily distracted by his efforts to keep everyone else’s minds in check, glanced in Nefron’s direction and raised an eyebrow.

“Specify time units,” the Oracle requested.

“Use mine then,” Nefron instructed, speaking Chixzon instead of English.

“The Ftrolee conquered the subrace known as the Barnok of the Ancients 6,239,444 years ago.”

“Why were three additional Uriti added to those captured by the Barnok at a later date?”

“The Ancients subrace known as Katarsh were annihilated. Their assigned Hamoriti were then transferred to the Barnok for safe keeping.”

“Which no longer existed.”

“The Ftrolee utilized the data given to them to arrange the construction of this site and two others utilizing lesser allied races for the construction.”

Nefron turned away from the Oracle and looked at Riley. “Long story short, the Ftrolee, whose weapons you sampled outside, were an ally of the Chixzon when they were conquering the galaxy up until their dominance appeared to be at an end, at which point they turned on us. The Ancients did not accept them into their alliance, but they inserted themselves anyway by killing the local Ancients and posing as them. The Ftrolee are duplicitous, and the Chixzon have known them to do such things before, so this makes sense. They couldn’t build this facility themselves, so they gave the knowledge they’d pilfered from the Ancients to their unknowing allies and had them construct it in their stead with an altered Oracle program.”

“Why give this Oracle such knowledge?”

“I suspect it has an alternative purpose,” Nefron said, looking back at the floating hologram. “State contingency plans regarding renewed contact with the Ftrolee.”

“Full knowledge of events pertinent to the creation of this facility were embedded so that any Ftrolee recovering possession of the Hamoriti would be aware of what has transpired.”

“They hid this facility’s location from the Ancients?”

“Correct.”

“So to extort them with that knowledge later?”

“They wished leverage, thus the sites had to be kept secret.”

“Do you have the locations of any Uriti beyond the three previously stated?”

“Negative. Such knowledge was searched for, but never obtained from the Ancients.”

“Big, fat, bargaining chips,” the mage commented as he stood on Nefron’s right.

“What is the last recorded status of the Ancients?”

“Original subraces numbered 18. At last knowledge 10 remained intact, with estimates that 3 others were near to falling.”

“Falling how?”

“A combination of the efforts to subdue the Hamoriti and the exploitation of the power vacuum created by the Chixzon fall. Even before the last Hamoriti was captured there were widespread wars breaking out amongst the minor associates of the Ancients as they sought to topple each other or their parent member. It was speculated that the Ancients coalition would disintegrate in the aftermath of the Chixzon fall, either through conflicts with one another or others rising up to challenge them.”

“And the Ftrolee expected to use that chaotic environment to their advantage,” Nefron said, looking at Riley again.

“Any chance they’re still out there?” he asked, cringing against the sustained mental effort.

“Possibly, but if they are I doubt they’re anywhere near here. My guess is they would have built these sites somewhere far away from whatever region they had plans on. It’s also possible they were wiped out due to stupidity. They’re careful and deliberate, but have a bad habit of betting on the losing team.”

“Define ‘subrace’ of Ancients?”

“The alliance that opposed the Chixzon must have been referred to internally as the Ancients. The means to disable and contain the Uriti were probably a combined effort with that technology being shared by all involved. The Barnok were situated further out in this section of the galaxy with their territorial domain where The Nexus currently is and multiplied tenfold. I’m guessing that the Ftrolee spotted their weakness and quietly moved to conquer them from within, meaning their local alliance of races never knew they were destroyed until far too late. They had them built this facility in their name, then killed the workers so those races wouldn’t know the location. Only the Ftrolee would.”

“What do you think we should do with them?” Riley asked, gesturing to the frozen races behind him and further out on the platform.

“Your call. We can deal with the Uriti independent of them if you wish.”

“Who do you think is the most reasonable?”

“The cyborgs.”

“Explain the situation to them then,” Riley said as he slowly released control of those few nearest him.

“Calm yourselves,” Nefron said, though his visage didn’t help convey that message. “I am not Chixzon.”

The cyborgs looked at him, but rather than speak they took notice of the lack of noise and the fixed poses of the other races around them.

“They have been frozen in place so we can speak privately,” Nefron continued. “The Human telepathy is quite strong, far stronger than mine, and he is holding them at bay just as you were a moment ago. You do not remember it, but during your lapse I obtained some relevant information from the Oracle.”

The lead cyborg, the one who was not in battle armor, looked at Riley quizzically.

“He’s speaking the truth,” the Archon agreed. “But talk to him. My mind is occupied right now.”

“You have the ability to turn us into your puppets?”

“Yes.”

“Be thankful for that,” Nefron interrupted. “If they did not have this capability, you would not be looking at your one and only chance to stop the rogue Uriti.”

The cyborg looked between the two of them, then back at the frozen races around him and the vassals standing idly by. “Explain.”

“The Chixzon were destroyed,” Nefron began, “but they put into place a backup plan that would see their race escape the cataclysm that was befalling them. They left a genetic legacy in another race that was a much degraded version of their own, spread them throughout the galaxy, then went to make their final stand knowing that there was no way they were going to survive now that the Uriti had been disabled and their greatest strength taken from them. The hatred of the galaxy was too much for them to be allowed to live…so they had to escape galactic memory.”

“With them thought dead, eventually the genetic countdown within their chosen race would complete and they would be reborn. Star Force discovered this genetic countdown and accelerated it in a single individual, a volunteer, to see what would actually occur. Their knowledge of genetics is considerable, and they were certain they could undo whatever was done after they learned what was needed. They did not understand the transformation that was to come, and the individual’s mind was so restructured as to lose himself. He became fully Chixzon, and in the process the volunteer became an enemy.”

“But rather than kill him, as you probably would, they did not give up on him, rather trying to undo the transformation and rescue the volunteer from what had happened to him. Thanks to their considerable telepathic abilities and tireless efforts, they helped that individual to free himself. The intellect of the Chixzon is not to be underestimated, and they appealed to this intellect to think and reason its way to freedom. It was difficult and treacherous, but eventually the volunteer freed his mind and returned to his true identity that the genetic programming had overridden. Rather than have his physical body returned to normal, he chose to remain in Chixzon form to retain the abilities and knowledge now available to him…including the ability to control the Uriti if they were ever found again.”

The cyborg looked at Nefron. “Do you speak of yourself or your ancestor?”

“I am that volunteer. I am the only one, and the genetic legacy left within my former race has been expunged so that no others can undergo this transformation. The Chixzon must not return. They are far too dangerous, and now that they know of their fatal flaw they will not repeat it.”

“You suggest they would not use the Hamoriti?”

“They would definitely make use of them. But they would not rely on them.”

“You said this race carrying the legacy was spread across the galaxy. Star Force cannot have reached all of them.”

“No, we haven’t. But every grouping that we have discovered we have neutralized via a genetic alteration that most of them don’t even know occurred. They are no longer a viable pathway for the Chixzon to return, but we will not give you their identity for you to hunt them down and kill them to make sure.”

“I have more troops on the way here as we speak,” the cyborg admitted.

“And what do you intend to do with them?”

“I do not know. Are you certain you can control the Hamoriti?”

“Through the same methods that the Chixzon did, yes. But I do not know how their imprisonment has potentially altered them. I need to study this one as much as I can before we proceed to the freed one.”

“And what will you do to it?”

“I will call to it. If it obeys, I will direct it to an uninhabited system where it will not produce minions. It is probably still obeying the last orders given to it. If I give it new ones the immediate problem should be remedied.”

“Can you destroy it?”

“The Chixzon created them so that they could not be destroyed, and even their own warfleet could not hope to contain one if it went rogue. That is why they never let one within their own systems.”

“Why create a weapon you cannot shut down?”

“Because if it hadn’t been for the accidental discovery of the sedative chemical they would have owned this galaxy. Their defeat was a stroke of luck, nothing more.”

“Why are you speaking to us and not the others?”

“You are the more level headed. If we must deal with the Uriti on our own, Star Force will, but after all the time and effort you’ve spent containing this threat, we would prefer to have your assistance.”

“And you still need the location of the other containment sites?”

“Yes, but we have ways of locating them even if you do not.”

“And do you intend on waking these others up so you can corral them somewhere safe?”

“For the moment those lying dormant should remain so. But we need to find as many as we can, and not just the 10 noted. You are under the mistaken impression that the Ancients were a single race. They were not. They were the alliance that defeated the Chixzon. Those you know as Ancients were the race whose jurisdiction covered this portion of the galaxy. The Oracle has provided evidence under duress that they were destroyed by another race who then impersonated them after the original seven Uriti were contained. It was they who ordered the creation of the three additional sites to contain Uriti that were then captured elsewhere and tasked to be contained here. This race was once an associate of the Chixzon before they betrayed them. They are called the Ftrolee and if they are still in existence they need to be located and dealt with.”

“Dealt with how? We will not avenge the Chixzon.”

“Then avenge the Ancients whom you so revere. The Ftrolee are dangerous, and like the Chixzon, prefer to attack through non-military avenues.”

“Are the rest of the Ancients still in existence?”

“Possible, but it is likely that most of them were destroyed in the aftermath of the war. The Chixzon kept many threats suppressed based on their reputation alone. With them gone, those threats would have emerged and began power plays of their own…”

“…and the Ancients would have been so weakened from fighting the Hamoriti and their minions that they could have been toppled by the scavengers,” the cyborg finished.

“Indeed. But we do not need them to contain this unleashed Uriti. Star Force can handle this on our own.”

“What is your price?”

Nefron conferred telepathically with Riley. “The Trinx must stop their uplifting of the Li’vorkrachnika and abandon the protection of their worlds. If they do not, we will still contain the rogue Uriti, but we will have to fight and conquer the Trinx in order to ensure they do not make the Li’vorkrachnika an even greater threat than they are now. We would prefer they simply stopped given the fact that the Li’vorkrachnika’s services will no longer be necessary.”

“That’s it? No tribute required?”

“No. And we will not extort you or others with the threat of unleashing a Uriti on your homeworlds…though that is well within my power. We are Star Force and have a long track record of how we fight wars, and if you examine it you will see that such things are not our style.”

“But you would still have the power of the Chixzon at your disposal?”

“Yes.”

“Can you make more Hamoriti?”

“No. To do so would require the original source, and if it has not been destroyed or escaped back to the core of the galaxy, I know only of its previous location long ago, and it is far outside the current travel range of Star Force vessels.”

“And if you had this source?”

“The methods used in their construction would not be permitted by Star Force, but I do hold the full knowledge of the Chixzon…or at least everything they deemed of value to pass on to their reborn civilization.”

“Then you are by far the most dangerous individual within the galaxy,” the cyborg said logically.

“That’s your ignorance talking. But I am probably the most dangerous that you know of.”

“Then some would reason that we are honor bound to kill you here and now, no matter what it takes. Some would even say that risking waking this Hamoriti would not be too large a price to pay to ensure that the Chixzon do not return and create more Hamoriti.”

“And yet I am also the only solution you can see to the current crisis.”

“True. It was wise to release us from your telepathic imprisonment first,” the cyborg said, looking at Riley. “You have played your hand well thus far. I hope that is a sign of wisdom rather than guile, for we have no legitimate choice but to make use of your knowledge, all the while knowing that we have no way to control you. Allow the rest of my people in here before you wake the others and we will provide security while they are informed of the situation.”

“One thing first,” Riley said, unable to hold the minds at bay and search the cyborgs’ for the answer he sought, especially given that most of their memories were electronic and beyond his ability to access directly. “Could you and the others have built up an army to fight the Uriti minions over the given time had you acted differently?”

“The Trinx could have. Of the nine of us they are the smallest, but they have devoted their entire civilization to the protection of the Hamoriti site entrusted to them. They even abandoned their previous worlds to relocate to it. They have no other concerns to deal with, while we and others cannot devote our full resources to the problem while maintaining our own borders against other threats. We have contributed much, and continue to do so, but the Trinx are in the sole position of being capable of doing more.”

“Why have they not?”

“They are devoting all of their resources to the moment to moment containment and producing as many of their vassals as they can to forestall a breakout rather than devoting some of those resources to create more production facilities. Their justified paranoia has blinded them to the reality that the Li’vorkrachnika troops are successfully containing the minions with their sacrifice. The Trinx should divert resources to the development of more resources, but they hold their production quotas to the maximum without fail.”

“Are they expending them?” Nefron asked.

“Some, but they have assembled a large army in reserve. We believe they have more ground troops than the rest of us combined at this point, and perhaps half as many ships. If you were to attack them out of retribution for their gifting technology to the Li’vorkrachnika, they could probably defeat any attempt you made.”

“So they’re hoarders?” Riley asked.

“Rooted in fear. In the past they have been the wiser, but over time their wisdom has twisted.”

“How would you suggest we break the news to them?”

“I will do so. Release them all simultaneously once my troops arrive and I will speak for you. If their vassals are ordered to attack we will shield you…if necessary,” he added after Riley shot him a disbelieving look, considering the display they’d just put on with the external defenses. “We will interpose ourselves to help prevent any confrontations while the others come to grips with the necessity of the situation. We have long sought a solution to the Hamoriti. Once they realize this may very well be it, they will agree to assist you.”

“Alright, but get your people here quickly. My telepathy has limits and maintaining my grip on them is becoming tedious.”

2

December 2, 3254

Unnamed System

(Uriti/Hamoriti location)

Paul walked across the platform connecting to the entrance into the Uriti prison shell, looking up at the pair of vassals guarding the aperture and partially obscuring the battle damage that was slowly withering away under the care of the Oracle and its maintenance bots. Other than the mechanical Trinx ground troops there was no one living nearby as he walked inside, so the trailblazer passed through empty section after section until he came to the chamber were Nefron was standing and picking away at an open panel.

“Broke something?”

Nefron half turned to face him. “Merely getting confirmation that the information provided is accurate. This program has been designed to lie very cleverly, but it is still a program. If it is willfully giving us information in order to keep the Uriti sedated then the Ftrolee had to have programmed that scenario. Why they would do that I do not know, thus I am checking various facts given to me.”

“If the Chixzon found this place it wouldn’t matter what the Oracle did,” Paul surmised. “But if someone else found it, then keeping it secure via bargaining might be relevant.”

“A likely possibility, but I need to know for certain. Is there something you require?”

“How are you holding up to the telepathic pressure?”

“I have to take breaks outside, but I am managing. This Uriti is less dormant than the others based on the limited information I have been able to obtain from the Oracle and the reports given to us by The Nine. It is somewhat more resistant to the sedative and I am trying to determine why.”

“Do we need to start producing the chemical as backup?”

“No. I have other concerns.”

“Such as?”

“If an immunity can be derived.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “You worry about the Chixzon being able to create a Uriti that can’t be sedated.”

“It was thought impossible, but they did not have access to the data on the sedated ones. All were spirited away before recapture was possible. Based on the levels I am seeing in Cardosan I am beginning to suspect there may be at least a way to make a Uriti…a new Uriti…at least partially immune. If the Chixzon return and discover this, they will pursue it.”

“Is it worth us traveling to the containment site to see if the Hadarak is still there?”

“No. If it was not released it would have starved to death by now.”

“Unless someone else took custody.”

“A small possibility. My fear is that the Chixzon may try to capture another.”

Paul cringed. “That’s not going to be easy.”

“Virtually impossible, but if the gains are of sufficient value I would not expect them to do anything less. If they do not discover the data the Ancients collected they will not think to try, but if they do…I fear their plans to conquer the galaxy will be germane once again.”

“And they’d alter the new ones so you couldn’t control them?”

“If they know I exist, yes. Perhaps so even if they don’t.”

“Can the existing ones be modified?”

“No. Unless the solution is a minor one, and even then it would require capturing one. That has never been attempted by the Chixzon. They made all adjustments prior to their release, then guided them where they wanted. They never had the control necessary to order one to sit still long enough for inspection.”

“And what will you be able to do with the one that is free?”

“Difficult to say. The stagnation incurred on this Uriti is significant. How it has affected their minds I cannot say. I will have to call to it and see how it responds.”

“How much more time do you need here?”

“I don’t know. I’d rather not leave too soon. There is still much for me to learn about what the Ancients did.”

“What did you call them?”

“Narshama.”

“Translation?”

“Those who would defy the inevitable.”

“Without being able to kill the Uriti, I guess there’s some truth to that.”

What I told them was not fully true, Nefron said, speaking telepathically so no one, including the Oracle, could overhear. There is a way to kill them. A way the Chixzon programed them to self-destruct if it was needed. I do not wish them killed, so I haven’t mentioned it before, but it is possible.

How?

A very different chemical that, once delivered, will induce a genetically programmed shutdown of vital systems. They will simply die without visible cause over the course of several hours, perhaps days or weeks. It was never tested outside the laboratory.

We’re not going to kill them unless we have to, but if we can’t control them we can’t exactly let them run around smashing inhabited systems.

Which is why I need to pull as much data from here as I can get.

“Want some help?”

“Obviously. What did you come here for, specifically?”

“I’m not going to do the Uriti run, if that’s what you mean.”

“A pity. I wanted to watch.”

Paul smirked. “I’ve had enough headaches in life already to hit my pain quota, so I’m fine keeping my distance, thanks.”

“Coward.”

“I’ll go if you go,” Paul said sarcastically.

“You know I cannot. I will not survive it.”

“Can they turn the effect off?”

“The Chixzon or the Uriti?”

“Uriti.”

“It’s a primitive defense mechanism that they can override with conscious effort, but relax and it will return. All of their communication is telepathic, so it’s natural to emit an aura that you and I don’t. We can if wanted, and in reverse, the Uriti can cancel its aura if wanted. And you haven’t answered my question.”

“The Trinx, Sety, and to a small extent the Jonstar, are making as much trouble as they can. The other 6 members are providing us cover, but the sooner we can deliver results the better…though I think when we do that won’t solve matters. They’re about to lose control and they don’t like it. As soon as the unstoppable threat is stopped, I get the feeling there’s going to be a revolution.”

“Most likely,” the Oracle said, appearing beside them.

“What do you know of it,” Nefron asked skeptically.

“I am designed to gather data, surreptitiously, to aid in your return, and have managed to access three of the communications systems of the races in orbit. The conversations they are having are most predictable.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Aid in your return?”

“I made a slight alteration to his programming earlier,” Nefron admitted. “He now regards me as Ftrolee…I think. I’m still doing checks to make sure there isn’t some counter intrusion software mimicking what I want in order to keep secrets from me.”

“Are you that good or just familiar with Ftrolee programming?”

Nefron laughed, a single huff that managed to sound more menacing than mirthful. “The Chixzon gave them most of their technological base.”

“In exchange for?”

“Their assistance. Which makes their betrayal all the more poignant.”

“How advanced were they?”

“Not very. We didn’t give them anything of consequence to us, but to them it advanced their powerbase considerably. They still use predictable methods, which I have been able to isolate within the Ancients programming. They stand out considerably if you know where to look, though there is a lot of code to sift through and the interface,” Nefron said, holding up a small device of Chixzon make for him to see, “is barely adequate for this.”

“Why didn’t you build a bigger one?”

“Star Force components aren’t sufficient. This was the best I could do without asking you to build some specialized factories.”

Paul shrugged. “No biggie. Just ask.”

Nefron looked at him quizzically. Paul wasn’t the first trailblazer he’d dealt with, but he was one with whom he had little previous interaction. “Is that offer from Star Force or Clan Saber?”

“Whichever. Building is our specialty, and we like challenges.”

“I was led to believe that reverse engineering Chixzon tech was preferable to constructing it.”

“Depends on the timeline. If you need something quickly, we’ll build it old school provided you can tell us how to do it.”

“Generous,” Nefron balked.

“And if it’s too hideous to stand looking at we can always blow it up later.”

The Chixzon laughed. “That sounds more like Archon logic. But your concern is unnecessary. This device is sufficient to the task, though it may not be as fast or comprehensive as I desire.”

Paul turned his attention back on the Oracle. “What are they saying?”

“Many things. They do not wish to trust you, but feel they have no choice. Some believe your plan will not work, others do not trust themselves not to at least try. There is much confusion and the beginnings of panic. Their allegiance is based off of an assumed impossibility that you are shattering. I believe it will shatter their relations with one another as well. Tread carefully, for they possess the other Hamoriti.”

“What are they going to do, wake them up?”

“They cannot. But some will be protective of them and not want to grant you access.”

“For now that’s not an issue,” Paul said, looking to Nefron again. “How intelligent are the Uriti?”

“Very, but vastly different from us. Talking with them is nearly impossible…despite your predilection for challenges. We can direct them. I do not estimate that we will be able to negotiate with them.”

“I doubt it was every tried?”

“No, it was not. They were meant to be tools.”

“Is there restrictive programming inserted into their consciousness?”

“Enough to get them to comply, yes.”

“Can it be undone?”

“Not without direct access, and even then probably not.”

“Lizards all over again?”

“I find that comparison insulting.”

“My point is, do we let these guys hibernate forever or do they need to be woken up eventually?”

“I won’t have an answer for that until I do a lot more research.”

Paul looked at the Oracle. “How big is his program?”

“Considerable.”

“Think we can fashion a mobile database so we can bring him with us?”

“If you want to spend the time building it. I would not recommend interfacing this program with your computer systems. They won’t fully be compatible anyway, but where they are it could cause problems.”

“We can construct an isolated module. Actually, Oracle, can you construct a mobile unit using the resources within this facility?”

“You wish me to observe the rogue Hamoriti?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Feasible. I will require specific orders, for the blueprints to create such a device are not within my memory, but the construction tools required are within my control.”

“How big do you want it?” Nefron asked.

“Make the database as large as needed, but make a mobile interface about,” Paul put his hands together and stretched them out as if he was holding a beach ball between them, “this big.”

“You want it to be mobile onboard your ship, but to do so without interfacing with your comm and computer systems?”

“Yes.”

“Simple enough. But I recommend you allow me a full survey of its programming before you allow it to activate. I do not trust Ftrolee programming.”

“Well don’t give it any weapons. Just make it a talking, floating sphere that can gather data and display it.”

“As you wish. That will also allow me to do part of my research from afar, though actual readings on the Uriti will have to be taken here.”

“Don’t you have millions of years worth of data to study?”

“I need to induce a few changes and study its reaction,” Nefron said evenly.

Paul bit his lip. “I trust you know what you’re doing?”

“I won’t wake it. But I need to study its condition. There is little chance of it accidentally waking. None if it has not been damaged.”

“Oracle, are you feeding the other races information on the Uriti?”

“As they requested, yes.”

“Can you falsify those feeds so they are unaware of any tests we run?”

“A prudent suggestion given the unstable relationships involved. Yes, I can replay previous data that will be genuine other than the timestamp if so directed.”

“Do not do so until I say,” Nefron instructed, “but make the necessary preparations.”

“As you command.”

“Leave us.”

The hologram disappeared, but both of them knew that it could still monitor their conversation.

Do you really have that thing on a leash? Paul asked.

I believe so, but I must finish my confirmation before undertaking any action.

How long?

At least another day.

I’ll make sure you get as much time as you need. Have any of them been in here lately?

No. They are afraid of another purge and do not want to lose more personnel. They only come with heavy guards and on rare occasions to converse with the Oracle. They want to know if we can do what we claim to, and it has instructed them that we can.

That should help…or maybe hurt us. I get the feeling some of them would prefer if we’d never shown up and the status quo remained.

They’ve grown addicted to the fear?

And the power that the cause gives them. They think this is the holiest cause ever invented, and the Trinx have been willing to screw everyone else over to accomplish their goals.

Are you going to make them pay for that?

Depends what they do here. The priority is to minimize the damage and stop any more tech from flowing to the lizards.

They will betray us if they get the chance, Nefron warned.

I get that feeling too, from the Trinx at least.

Keep them away from me unless you want them broken.

Paul smiled. Are you talking about them or their toys?

Both.

4 weeks later…

Riley stood onboard his command ship with another holographic conference summoned that included all nine representatives and Nefron, with Paul watching but not within view of the others.

“Preliminary examination of the Uriti here is complete. What we have learned suggests that we will still be able to stand down the rogue Uriti regardless of what damage it has incurred from its sedated period. We will temporarily leave you in custody of this world and take our fleet to the rogue’s location with as many ships as you deem necessary for escort and to order your fleets to make way for us at the destination. Once we are there, we need you to trust us.”

“What do you intend to do?” the Chamra asked.

“Take possession of it,” Riley said, hitting the nail on the head rather than beating around the bush.

“Unacceptable,” the Sety replied. “This must be a joint venture, and the control mechanism must be shared.”

“Only Nefron can use it,” Riley replied firmly. “And we’re not in the habit of sharing our technological secrets with those standing in wait to stab us in the back. We’ll collaborate with you when necessary, but we will not share control of the Uriti. You’ve been desperate to find a way to stop the rampage ever since the Li’vorkrachnika released it. Don’t be ungrateful now that we have brought you that option.”

“Well spoken,” the Yisv agreed.

“Unacceptable,” the Trinx echoed the Sety. “We are the guardians. We must remain the guardians. Star Force is unproven and cannot be fully trusted.”

“You have no choice,” Riley said sharply, trying to provoke a confrontation here and now if there was going to be one.

“There is always a choice.”

“If you wish to fight us, we will be happy to oblige,” Nefron said icily, beating Riley to it, and the Chixzon was easily more intimidating than the Human, despite their power levels being to the contrary. “There are trillions of individuals to avenge for the losses inflicted upon them by the enemy you upgraded to subsidize your ineptitude.”

The Trinx stared laser bolts back at Nefron and half the other members of The Nine gave him contentious looks, but several of them were staring at the Trinx instead with displeased gestures that both Nefron and Riley had begun to pick up on after numerous times dealing with these races in recent weeks.

“Star Force is only still alive because of what we did,” the Trinx replied. “It is you who are ungrateful.”

“Enough!” the tiny Dati said, though his hologram stood as big as the others. “We have no choice but to pursue this. Can any of you claim otherwise?”

“How we proceed is what is in question,” the Sety answered.

“Do you suggest we take this transmitter from them?” the little triped challenged. “That we capture this one and force him to do our bidding?”

“That will not happen,” Nefron said menacingly.

“They might not be entirely truthful about the technology,” the Bpret said evenly. “We might be able to use it, but I do not advocate waging a war to obtain it when Star Force is willing to voluntarily stop the Hamoriti. If they fail to do so or have an ulterior agenda we can consider other options. For now we must utilize their offered assistance.”

“And give them control of the power powerful weapon ever created?” the Trinx all but yelled. “Are you all fools?”

“Nefron,” Riley said almost casually. “If they won’t listen to reason, explain it to them in a way they will understand.”

“Gladly,” the Chixzon said from a different compartment onboard Riley’s ship.

“Meaning what?” the Sety demanded, but neither the Human nor the Chixzon said anything. They returned blank stares at The Nine even as others asked questions. It took several minutes before the Yisv felt the change on the planet below, but it was the Chamra who recognized the alteration in the data streams just before that.

“The Hamoriti is waking!” the cyborg yelled at the Chixzon, but then his attention quickly went to the Trinx. “Stop this insanity now. You have no power over them!”

“Do not risk this for a demonstration,” the Yisv implored. “Do not, please. We cannot remain here if it wakes.”

Riley said nothing. He simply looked towards the Sety, and then the Trinx, locking eyes with his holographic image as the data feeds from the planet continued to grow more erratic. It wasn’t until an image of Bahamut twitching in his slumber did the Sety relent.

“Stop this. We cannot risk this one releasing. If you can capture the rogue it will remain under your control so long as you do not misuse it.”

“Thank you,” Riley said, with only a little sarcasm slipping through as he kept his eyes on the Trinx.

“We still have personnel on the ground,” the Trinx stubbornly pointed out. “Would you kill them to make a point?”

“They have time to run if they get moving now,” Riley offered. “We’re not waking him up fast.”

“No. They will remain there. If you are truly intent on releasing this Hamoriti, you will have to kill them to do so…and if you do you will prove yourselves unworthy to be their custodian.”

“Are you mad?” the Chamra said before the Yisv could figure out which curse to utter. “By that logic you are unfit for custodianship.”

“Sacrifices must be made,” the Trinx said stubbornly. “And if we must oppose them we must learn of it now. The personnel will not be removed.”

“It’s not just your people down there.”

“Then get them out,” Riley interrupted. “You have time. Do not waste it arguing here.”

“Do not do this…please,” the Yisv said, then when no one appeared to balk it shook its head firmly. “We must leave orbit. See sanity, I beg you.”

The hologram of the Yisv cut out, and on the battlemap Riley saw every last one of their ships break formation and accelerate hard towards the stellar jump point to get out of telepathic range before the Uriti’s aura could intensify further.

3

“What do you seek to accomplish by this?” the Chamra asked.

“To get straight who is in command here,” Riley said icily. “We will end this threat you have been diligently countering, but we will do it our way.”

“You cannot do this,” the Bpret implored. “We cannot let another one loose.”

“We can control it.”

“You think. You do not know for sure. Test your theory on the rogue, not the sleeper below!”

“Save your words,” the Trinx said viciously. “It is our responsibility to safeguard the Hamoriti, and the Trinx will not let this one be awoken, no matter what the sacrifice necessary.”

“We have no control,” the Dati argued. “That is the point he is trying to make.”

“We have one other recourse, and I believe it is time we took it. Relinquish control of the Hamoriti to us, or we will take it from you.”

“Try it,” Riley dared.

The Trinx turned to the others. “They are implacable. If what they have told us is the truth, then they have only one who is able to wake the Hamoriti. Eliminate him and the threat is removed.”

“He is our only hope of a solution,” the Chamra angrily argued. “Have you gone mad?”

“We are wasting time. This Hamoriti cannot be allowed to rise. Do your duty,” the Trinx said, cutting his comm signal as their fleet suddenly began to reposition and head towards the Star Force formation.

“He does not speak for us,” the Chamra stated for the rest of them.

“I know,” Riley said evenly. “They’ve put their ego as a higher priority to containing the Uriti. I hope that’s clear now.”

“It is,” the Dati said quickly. “Please, there is no need to wake it further.”

Paul…

I got it, don’t worry.

“Stay out of this and we’ll not hold you accountable,” Riley warned/promised. “I suggest you keep your ships away entirely,” he said as the Star Force jumpships began spilling out drones to intercept the Trinx fleet that was rapidly accelerating towards his command ship.

“Do you require assistance?” the Chamra offered.

“Record what happens here as a neutral observer, but do not interfere. If the Trinx want a fight, we’re going to give it to them.”

“They are going for only one ship.”

“They won’t get it,” Riley promised. “Watch and learn.”

“Cease waking the Hamoriti, please,” the Dati implored.

“This will be over before that occurs.”

The Trinx’s 139 vessels were all of the same make, a combination of needle and wedge with a forward point offset from their center of mass. Looking lethal even before their weaponry opened up, the blood red ships formed into three elongated groupings that were all situated on attack lines that would bring them past the sides of the Zeus within a few minutes.

Before that could happen hundreds, then thousands of drones began fanning out in front of the command ship in blockade formation as half a dozen jumpships also move into flanking positions and stared down the approaching Trinx ships, each of which was larger than any of the drones by a factor of 3, but they all massed considerably less than the jumpships. The wall of drones drifted forward and huge kinetic dampening shields were thrown up in front of the command ship by the Zeus and the jumpships surrounding it, should any of the Trinx ships want to live up to the example of their lizard allies and go kamikaze.

They didn’t have the mass to punch through them, nor the speed, and as the seconds ticked by more and more drones were released and flew to strengthen the blockade that was becoming so numerous the Trinx could barely see the command ship through them.

The Trinx kept coming through, firing with their long range weaponry in the form of tiny orange streaks that lit up drone shields in several select places. After a few seconds of concentrated fire the shields went down and the drones began to take hits as they likewise began returning fire with their long range Keema batteries, with it becoming clear that the Trinx intended to blow a hole through the Star Force lines and push through.

Riley didn’t take part in the battle, rather staying online with the other seven races and watching as Paul handled the defense of his own ship. Normally Riley wouldn’t have liked that, but he knew Paul had slightly better naval skills than he had, and as much as he wanted to kick the crap out of the Trinx, he needed to feel out and cement what ties he could to the other races…and to do that he had to keep them talking.

“I assume you all have a fairly decent idea of our combat capability?” he asked.

“Yes,” the Jonstar said, growling with agitation, but Riley had a feeling it was more directed at the Trinx than him, though it might have been to the idea of watching a battle and not being in it, for the bear-like race looked like it was spoiling for a fight even when they were passive.

“Then they should know they’re not getting through…and that we hold grudges.”

“If the Hamoriti wakes,” the Sety said neutrally, “and your Chixzon is killed, the galaxy will be for the worse.”

“We’re not waking it up fully, just enough to get your attention,” Riley said, glancing at the tree-like race. “And your heartfelt concern is noted.”

“Then you are intentionally provoking them?” he accused.

“We didn’t shoot first.”

“None the less you are using the threat of the waking Hamoriti to precipitate this attack.”

“Enough!” the Chamra demanded. “The Trinx have lost their sanity and are trying to destroy the very solution we have long sought, hoped, and pleaded for. I repeat, we are ready and able to intervene if you wish it.”

“We’ve got this covered,” Riley said as the Trinx ships came within short weapons range and all hell broke loose as they plunged into the now very thick drone blockade line. “Although you can stand by to pick up survivors if you want to help.”

“Pick up or finish off,” the Jonstar muttered.

“How dare you degrade our longtime allies,” the Sety all but cursed. “They have done more to forestall the Hamoriti than any of us.”

“That is no excuse for their actions now,” the Bpret weighed in as they all watched the carnage occurring with more and more Star Force drones flying in to add to the blockade force even as the Trinx tried to punch through it and now had two of their three prongs fully engulfed in the sea of blocky black ships.

“The Hamoriti is stabilizing,” the Chamra noted with relief, getting the updates directly through his implants and was therefore one step ahead of the others as usual.

“Thank you,” the Dati echoed as three of the Trinx ships broke through and into the empty gap between blockade and the command ship. They fired on it immediately, launching huge balls of energy that were a mix of orange and black and had little glow to them, more like a maelstrom of distorted space than an energy weapon, but when the pheeron converters hit the command ship’s shields their normal penetrating capacity was neutralized by the shield matrix entirely.

“So you can counter their weapons,” the Jonstar said with curiosity.

“Told you so,” Riley said calmly.

“Yes you did,” the Sety said with a mixture of disgust and respect as those three ships, already damaged, took the brunt of two bloon launchers and were covered in what looked like glowing purple goo. It soaked into the hull and disappeared, leaving all three ships inoperable as more Trinx vessels broke through behind them in various degrees of functionality.

“What did you hit them with?” the Dati ask humbly.

“Those crews are stunned and unable to operate their ships. You should be able to pull some survivors off afterwards…so long as their other ships don’t ram into them,” he said as several almost did that, but were caught firm by the dampening fields as other weaponry from the command ship tagged them, dropping shields and cutting off chunks of ships while a few more goo bloons flew in and disabled others.

“The Trinx are protecting a Uriti, correct?”

“Yes,” the Chamra said evenly. That hadn’t been officially revealed, but it had been stated earlier.

“They will not be allowed to maintain guardianship of it. They are irresponsible and dangerous. Do you conquer?”

“They won’t relinquish it to you,” the Sety warned.

“I didn’t imagine they would,” Riley scoffed.

“You plan to conquer them as you have done the Li’vorkrachnika?”

“Doing,” the Archon corrected. “We’re only through half of half of their empire, no thanks to you.”

“Is it worth killing Trinx to recover?” the Chamra asked.

“They chose to attack us.”

“I mean civilians. Would you awake a Hamoriti if it were on a populated world?”

“The civilians can be moved first.”

“The one the Trinx guard is beneath their capitol,” the Chamra said, drawing annoyed looks from the others. “They have devoted everything to protecting it. Will you destroy them to free it?”

“No.”

“So you agree that they will retain possession?” the Sety asked.

“Also no,” Riley pointed out as an extra large explosion blipped on the battlemap as a Trinx ship detonated, taking several drones with it while also damaging another of its sister ships. “They have suicide devices on their ships?”

“They are committed to the cause,” the Sety answered.

The Chamra glared at him with his one natural eye. “They are dying needlessly.”

“Shared control is the only solution.”

“One we cannot force! And after seeing this, I do not wish to put the fate of the galaxy in the hands of the Trinx.”

“Nor do we,” the Dati said. “Their paranoia had transitioned into zealotry.”

“Far beyond that,” the Jonstar said sadly. “They once had honor, but this is…something else entirely.”

“Not to mention a waste of ships,” Riley added as another of their vessels exploded in a bluish plume that shredded more drones along with it. Meanwhile a handful of Trinx ships shot out of the drones and into sight, running as hard as they could and curving around to head to the stellar jump point.

“They are fleeing,” the Bpret noted.

“No,” the Chamra said, seeing the tactical data through mind’s eye and everything happening within that mess of ships. “They are sending couriers back to report what has happened here. The rest are fighting to the death.”

“Offer them a surrender,” the Dati implored. “Do not destroy them all. You are no longer in jeopardy.”

“I never was,” Riley said, opening up a comm signal to the Trinx and letting the others listen in. “This is Archon Riley, onboard the ship you are futilely trying to destroy. Stand down and surrender before all of your ships are destroyed.”

They all waited, but there was no reply. Just a continuation of the slugging match that the Trinx were losing badly.

“Perhaps if you stopped firing first,” the Dati suggested.

Riley firmly shook his head. “No. They started this, they can decide to stop anytime they want. I’m not going to lose extra ships hoping that they’re suddenly going to wise up.”

“But if they are irrational, then you must be the sane one!”

“If they are irrational, then they cannot be negotiated with. They must be stopped via force.”

“They have a much larger fleet not far from here. They will return with more.”

“And we will be here to oppose them,” the Chamra said firmly.

“You see to break our allegiance?” the Sety asked.

The cyborg pointed to the holographic display of the ongoing battle. “They are trying to destroy the key to stopping the Hamoriti, the very thing this alliance was formed on the hope of one day discovering. Tell me, who has broken that allegiance?”

“They have not fired on us,” the Dati pointed out.

“No, they only seek to destroy that which will protect us if and when the Hamoriti arrives in one of our systems. The Trinx will doom us all if they succeed. And why? Because they will not share power.”

“Neither will Star Force,” the Sety pointed out.

“Thus far they have not misused it. The Hamoriti is returning to slumber and they are safeguarding the key, with a promise to subdue the rogue Hamoriti. They are the allies we have long sought, and I do not care who holds the leash to the Hamoriti so long as someone does. It must be contained and the Trinx are trying to prevent that. They have betrayed us.”

“I am forced to agree,” the Yisv said, returning to holographic view after following events via delay as they raced across the system towards the star, only now having returned to realtime comm range since the Hamoriti’s aura had diminished. “If Star Force proves untrustworthy then we must oppose them, but they have given us nothing but what we’ve all long hoped for. The Trinx have descended into madness regardless of Star Force’s true intentions, for they have done nothing to warrant this attack.”

“It is only right that we share control,” the Sety said stubbornly.

“Stopping the Hamoriti is what matters,” the Yisv said simply. “Other concerns are immaterial so long as that is accomplished.”

“You put your faith in strangers.”

“They are not strangers to you. You have had dealings with them before. Has something occurred that you have not told us?”

The Sety was hesitant to answer, but was saved as the Chamra spoke in his stead. “He is concerned about Star Force having too much leverage and is making the same mistake as the Trinx. Whatever problems may or may not arise afterward, they will be far less dire than a Hamoriti running loose.”

“Not if they send it against our own systems!” the Sety complained.

“As I have made clear,” Riley interrupted, “I can do that whenever I damn well please.”

“Then perhaps the Trinx are right.”

“By attempting to destroy the only means to control the Hamoriti?” the Bpret challenged.

“They cannot be allowed to maintain control over it.”

“Have you all gone mad?” the Domu suddenly blurted out. “A solution exists. A solution! How long as we searched for one? How long have we painstakingly researched and found nothing on our own and no trace of what became of the Ancients. This is our only chance and we should be grateful for it, but you greet those who bring it to us willingly as enemies before they have done anything to warrant that label. Be glad that someone can control the Hamoriti. Our nightmare is nearly over, yet the Trinx seek to destroy our salvation and the Sety are poised to support them in this insanity. Anyone striking against the ship that carries the solution will have to go through the Domu to get to it from this point on. Do I make myself clear?” he asked, looking directly at the Sety.

“The same goes for the Chamra,” the cyborg agreed.

“They cannot be trusted,” the Sety reiterated as the last of the Trinx ships stopped firing, either due to being disabled or destroyed. “And the Trinx will not let this incident pass.”

“So be it,” the Jonstar said reluctantly. “All our races swore an oath long ago to guard and secure the Hamoriti. We must fulfill our oaths now that we have been blessed with an opportunity that our ancestors did not have. We dishonor them by even speaking of squandering it.”

One by one the other races chimed in with similar sentiments, not all eager to turn their back on the Trinx, but in the end that was what even the Sety were forced to do.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “We proceed without the Trinx with regard to the freed Hamoriti. This promised solution will be given a chance to be tested. The Sety fleet will guarantee that much, but we will not grant anything else at this time.”

“I don’t need your permission,” Riley said defiantly, but then he looked around at the others and softened his expression, “but thank you for it. Please begin sending ships to pick up survivors. We will pull them out of the wreckage, but we prefer not to take them prisoner.”

“We will see that they are returned to a Trinx world,” the Chamra promised. “It is the least that we can do.”

“Same goes for those on the surface.”

“We’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you. Once we clean up here be prepared to leave for the rogue’s current position. We need to stop it before it kills anyone else. What becomes of this one can be dealt with later.”

“It’s still in a Li’vorkrachnika system,” the Yisv pointed out. “Will that be a problem?”

“We give them a chance to surrender all the time. Tell them to run away and we won’t shoot them on the way out. Our task is with the Hamoriti.”

“I will send a ship on ahead to so instruct them. On behalf of us all, I apologize for the ships and people you lost this day.”

“We lost ships, but we didn’t lose any people. Only the Trinx did.”

4

February 3, 3255

Ulinard System (lizard territory)

Inner Zone

The Zeus exited its jump into the glare of a bright white star following the arrival of some 54 ships sent by the other 7 races in The Nine to escort them into the system with the Yisv being absent. Following him immediately came the Excalibur, then the line of warships began to arrive one by one as Riley got his first good look at the system.

There were ten planets, two of which had been inhabited by the lizards, and one of those had been either evacuated or destroyed according to the Chamra feeds that were being sent to the Star Force fleet. The Hamoriti was currently located on an uninhabited planet…or rather in an uninhabited planet on the outskirts of the system where a large fleet was blockading it.

But here at the star there were thousands of ships, all of which were waiting for the Star Force vessels to arrive in order to protect them both from the Hamoriti and from the Trinx, whose fleet had already learned the details of what had previously occurred. Everyone here had, for couriers had been sent out by all parties announcing their upcoming arrival, and given the numbers here, Riley guessed that Star Force no longer had a strength advantage…definitely not at the moment, with only a handful of their ships having made it out of the jump thus far.

But there were no attacks. No chases. No activity at all other than for the waiting ships to move in sync with the new arrivals and provide a screen for them in all directions. They’d been told of what Riley’s ship carried, and the trailblazer didn’t doubt the assertions previously made that these races would die defending the ‘solution’ without hesitation if called for. And it was for that reason that he guessed the Trinx fleet here had backed down, though they were still in a position around the planet the Uriti was within, though having taken a higher orbit than the other races’ vessels.

“I can feel it…just barely,” he commented from the command nexus on the Zeus.

“As can I,” Nefron agreed from another nearby compartment, linked to him through the communications system and appearing as a hologram beside the Archon. “It is faint, but irrefutable.”

“That is Namishta?”

“It is.”

“I’m just going to call her Nami.”

Nefron sighed, but didn’t comment.

“How close do you want to get?”

“This is adequate, but I would prefer sending a stronger signal. High planetary orbit would be preferable.”

“Does that put us within weapons range?”

“No. The only ranged weapon it has is spherical discharge. Its range diminishes precipitously.”

“You can do this,” he asked sarcastically. “Right?”

“Even if I can’t,” Nefron responded deadpan. “You’d want to be here taking pictures.”

“Careful,” Paul’s voice advised. “Your Protovic is showing.”

“Trouble?” Nefron asked.

“The Chamra have promised to keep the Trinx at bay and are going to clear our way over the planet. They said they’re spoiling for a fight, but no additional ships have arrived. This is what they normally have here.”

“Meaning there could be more on the way?” Riley asked.

“That was the impression I got. Have you noticed the lizards?”

“There are none in space,” Nefron answered.

“Rather than depart the system they’ve pulled all their ships down to the surface of their surviving world. Apparently the Uriti hasn’t stepped on it yet.”

“Pulled for it or us?” Riley asked.

“Us. The Sety want to know if we’re going to stick around and remove them.”

“That’s up to you,” the Archon scoffed. “I’m going to be busy.”

“We,” Nefron corrected.

“Yes…we,” Riley allowed.

“I think we need to hurry,” Paul said, playing The Nine’s liaison this time after having a very long talk with the 8 races regarding security for this mission. “The way the Yisv said the Trinx would react isn’t holding true, and the local representatives are acting odd. I think the Trinx are going to make a move, but they don’t have the ships here to do it. We need to get the Uriti and get moving.”

“Is that coming from them or your gut?”

“Mostly my gut. And I get the feeling that the hammer blow might not happen in this system. We need as much head start as we can get.”

“Pick up us and the Uriti in one attack? Overly ambitious of them.”

“If they have dedicated their entire civilization to this endeavor,” Nefron added, “then we are destroying their reason for existence. They may do illogical things to try and preserve it.”

“Or go the other way and step it up a notch,” Paul differed. “If they possessed you, I get the feeling it might be them that used the Uriti as a weapon against others. Possibly to go hunt down the others throughout the galaxy in order to contain them.”

“Ouch,” Riley said, seeing the twisted logic in that.

“We need this Uriti out of their grasp. I’m assuming we can’t have it help us against an enemy fleet at close range?”

“Not with its larger weaponry,” Nefron agreed. “It does have the ability to target select ships at close range, but that would require a discipline that Namishta has never demonstrated before. You can point it at a target and say kill, but you cannot specify how you want it killed or what you don’t want destroyed nearby along with it.”

“What happens if the Trinx attack when it’s nearby?”

“It will either ignore them or wipe us all out in the response. We can survive at decent range given the upgrades to the shields, but in close the power levels will be too great to overcome.”

“Right,” Paul said with fake cheerfulness. “So let’s hurry, shall we?”

“You want to go on ahead?”

“With our friends here we don’t need to wait for the rest of the fleet to arrive.”

“If they are friends,” Riley pointed out, though he was in agreement. He set a course with a thought and coordinated with Paul as the two command ships tugged along several warships towards the jump point for the distant planet. When they arrived there they headed out along with a sizeable chunk of the defending fleet while the rest stayed at the star to act as a backstop for anyone else entering the system…Trinx or otherwise.

It took a few hours to get all the way out to the edge of the system to the fat, cold planet the Uriti had dug itself into. The holes in the surface were large enough to be seen from orbit, some of which were surrounded by mounds of crushed rock from it coming back to the surface and pushing the material up and out rather than further down as it descended.

“Worm in the apple?” Riley asked as they settled into their preferred orbit and the defending fleet surrounded them, with most of the 7 races’ ships interposing themselves on the side facing the somewhat distant Trinx fleet that was stoically holding position as if nothing had changed.

“Lizards on the planet,” Paul replied, noting many landed cruisers and transport ships. “They’re down there fighting the minions beneath the surface.”

“Why haven’t they evacuated?” Riley asked, then checked himself. “Never mind, it’s obvious. They answer to the Trinx and the Trinx didn’t want to pull them out.”

“Bingo.”

“Can we get the Uriti out without smashing them to bits?” Riley asked Nefron.

“It will come out where it likes. We can only summon it.”

“It’s not near them right now,” Paul pointed out, getting the Chamra feeds of its approximate position that the Star Force sensors were beginning to back up despite their altitude thanks to the upgrades Nefron had made specifically to track the Uriti within planets and stars, though there were limits to both. “If it was they’d be dead anyway. Normal procedure is to drop minions in its wake and let them grow in numbers. The lizards go down and attack them after the Uriti moves out of range.”

“But we could see a lot of splattered lizards if it chooses an odd path out?”

“There is no way to minimize the risk,” Nefron insisted, “other than to wait until it is located away from their current position, which it is now. It could return and kill them at any moment regardless.”

“Alright, let’s do this,” Riley said, connecting through the system with Nefron. “Watch our back.”

“Always,” Paul said, his voice and hologram disappearing but his presence within the system still lingering as Riley entrusted him with the fleet and his own ship’s security again.

“Are you ready?” Nefron asked.

“I’m just going along for the ride. This is your show.”

“So be it,” the Chixzon said, touching a few controls around him as he telepathically linked his full focus into the transmitter that amplified his thoughts and aura many millions of times in intensity in the narrow profile that was used to contact the Uriti. Using the knowledge granted to him through his genetic legacy, he sent the recall order that had been bred into all the Uriti and selected a point in orbit away from both their ship and the Trinx fleet for it to travel to.

The feedback was intense and immediate as the Uriti responded with a simple acknowledgement order. It was the first time Nefron had ever felt such power, and linked in with him to the system Riley felt the same. This was not a mindless beast, but a being of such great magnitude it chilled the Archon to the bone just to hear that single thought from it.

“You underestimated them,” Nefron said simply.

“Apparently I did.”

“My memories were insufficient as well. I did not expect that…presence.”

“How can you control something like that?”

“It was not an easy process to learn, and must be ingrained in them from origination. You cannot tamper with an intellect that large once it is formed. Not with any powers that we possess.”

“And the Hadarak are bigger?”

“The Klamensh are greater in every way. Only the weapons we designed for the Uriti make them superior.”

No wonder the V’kit’no’sat are scared of these things, Riley thought to himself, making sure not to transmit that thought to Nefron. He still hadn’t been told of the V’kit’no’sat, though no one doubted his loyalty to Star Force. Davis wanted to keep the Chixzon knowledge separate in order to keep the different perspectives distinct. Nefron had already begun to shed light on some of the V’kit’no’sat’s shortcomings as far as genetics were concerned, and he’d done so by not thinking in a V’kit’no’sat way with regards to genetic challenges presented to him and Vortison’s team. That untainted Chixzon mind needed to stay that way for now, so other than some information on the Hadarak, Nefron didn’t know anything regarding the V’kit’no’sat or their considerable database of knowledge…though he’d already deduced that there was some source and had been pleasant enough not to inquire about it further.

“And if they fought each other?”

“I have no idea what the outcome would be. It is possible they would not fight one another.”

“Despite the Chixzon programming?”

“It was never tested, for they had only one Klamensh and no aspirations about confronting the others,” Nefron said as they watched the track the Uriti was taking upwards through the planet on their monitoring equipment. It took some time before it finally breached the surface, smashing apart a cold mountain ridge as it emerged like a mole coming out of the dirt. The dirty blue, six legged behemoth was well over a mile long but far smaller than Bahamut. That thought alone made Riley cringe, wondering what power the larger Uriti’s mind could possibly contain.

When Nami broke into the airless exterior of the planet, ‘she’ rose up on her biological gravity drives with a slow, but nimble ease heading for the orbital coordinates sent to the Uriti.

Riley blew out a slow breath. “So far so good. Can you inquire as to this one’s status with the transmitter?”

“I can do a great deal more than that,” Nefron said, suddenly shifting his mental view to that of the Uriti and looking through its ‘eyes,’ save for it had none in a conventional sense. Sharing the link, Riley could see every ship in orbit and even those far away near the star, though they were mere echoes compared to the very vivid, yet odd image of the Zeus that he was seeing from afar and the cluster of ships around what looked to be his stone ship.

Then far below on the planet, even subsurface, he could see the minions in clusters.

“Are they people or machines?” he asked bluntly, already having had this discussion previously.

“Those produced by the Klamensh are people. But people can make choices, and the Chixzon could not allow that. These bastardized creations are biological machines that perform exactly as intended. If there is a person trapped inside somewhere, I do not know of it. And if there is, it would be best to free them of their slavery.”

“I really don’t care for that answer.”

“I don’t have another one to give. Even the Chixzon have not been able to isolate a physical component to the core of a lifeform, only recognize its presence through its actions. These minions do not act as if they were capable of making choices, so to the best of my knowledge the Chixzon succeeded in changing the Klamensh minions into biological war machines. I cannot say for certain if a person comes along with them in a tortured form. My memories suggest that telepathically linking to them offers no contact with anything other than predictable programming.”

“You can order the minions without the Hamoriti or equipment?”

“Of course.”

“Can you order them to stand down?”

“Stand down, yes. Allow themselves to be destroyed, no. Their programming prevents that potential conflict of interest. It is not for self-preservation,” Nefron clarified, guessing as to the Archon’s next question, “but to prevent a scenario where they could be tricked into not fighting back.”

“Genetic hacking?”

“Of our control signals, yes. That possibility was considered. They will not stand still and be slaughtered, but they can be starved to death.”

“I think we’ll let the lizards and the Trinx finish them off then. Let’s just get Nami out of here.”

“I need a destination system.”

Riley had already been through this with Paul and had come up with three possibilities, but because of how slow the Uriti were compared to starships, the destination could easily be compromised by the time they arrived.

“Ireema.”

Nefron looked up the coordinates and translated them into the system used to direct the Uriti…who could feel out the distant gravity wells without need of a map. He connected with it again, feeling the massive intelligence that was literally beyond that of technology, and let the contact linger for Riley’s benefit as Namishta traveled around orbit to the stellar jumppoint with every ship nearby hastily clearing a path.

The Archon didn’t have a clue how to even begin to communicate with such an ‘alien’ mind, which was odd considering how many non-Human races he had found ways to access their thoughts and bridge the gap with. This was totally beyond him, and that both scared and fascinated the challenge hungry trailblazer…though in this case he didn’t even know where to start.

The link became limited during the microjump as the Zeus and others had to stay back and make delayed transits, but Riley kept getting segments of time to feel out the Uriti during the process of leaving the system, then once the Uriti had made its slow jump off the star and entered the long coast phase the Zeus crept back in closer and paced it, giving both him and Nefron plenty of time to analyze the magnificent terror and find some point of reference outside the genetic control prompts.

“A courier ship has arrived from Star Force,” one of Cal-com’s attendants informed him. “It brings a message from Paul.”

The Dafchor held out a hand and the other Voku gave him the small device that contained the personal message. It was of their own technology, but the transmission from ship to ship had sent the contents directly into the device and nowhere else, achieving almost the same security as if one physically transported the chip from ship to ship without the necessary delay.

Cal-com inserted the device into the holographic pedestal and saw an image of his Human friend appear safely within his planning chambers where there could be no possibility of a security breach.

“I apologize for the secrecy, but as we discussed there will be times it is necessary and this is one of those times,” the Archon began. “The Trinx have attacked us in what I believe will lead to a much larger conflict. Prepare your ships accordingly. They may come under attack too for their allegiance with us, or even just the proximity to the Trinx worlds. I cannot say for sure what is going to occur. The Trinx are behaving as if they have gone insane. I will explain in detail what has transpired and what we are attempting to do, but so not to waste precious time I will say that I have called for numerous reinforcements from across Star Force space to gather in what I’ve designated as the Alamo System.”

A holographic tag popped up on a map, showing the location of an uninhabited system that lay partway between the active front and the Calavari region, one that had been captured and cleansed of lizards more than a century ago.

“I’m asking that you send all available ships there as well. If we succeed in our mission, we will possess one of the most dangerous weapons in the galaxy and once that information spreads, despite our efforts to keep it quiet, it may invite other players, perhaps unseen ones, to make a move to acquire it or to deny us its use. I have no intention of using this weapon, for reasons I’ll outline shortly, but please mobilize as many naval resources as you can from the local region. It’s going to take time to pull them from the ADZ and its rumored the Trinx have built up a large navy in secret that could be extremely troublesome if it catches either of us off guard.”

“In addition to that, I need a favor.”

5

February 21, 3255

Interstellar Space

Mid Jump

Riley sat next to Nefron in the chamber built onboard the Zeus to house him and the control interface with the Uriti transmitter. The Archon couldn’t use it, nor could anyone else save for the Chixzon, but so long as he was using it the trailblazer could eavesdrop through the equipment tie-in that was linked to both the command nexus and the small sphere in front of his lap that his hands were placed on, establishing a firm mental connection.

His mind swirled along with Nefron’s, both of them pathetically small compared to the mind they were touching. It mostly ignored them, save for when they issued the specific commands it had been conditioned to respond to automatically, but every now and then they could provoke a response…a mere twitch in its mind, as they probed for some way to establish true communications.

It wasn’t so much a matter of establishing a common language, but rather trying to wrap one’s mind around the perspective the Uriti viewed things through. It literally didn’t think like a Human or a Chixzon did, and crossing that chasm was something that Riley was adamant about trying to do during what was going to be a very slow journey to get the Uriti to the destination system. Right now the ships accompanying it were keeping their distance, but traveling at a jump speed so slow lesser races could actually have caught up to and passed them if there were any moving through the area.

Though with this being lizard territory, that wasn’t likely.

The transmitter allowed them to communicate at a range that could encompass a star system, but the lag was still a factor that made getting closer to the Uriti necessary for the work that Riley needed to do. That meant his command ship was the closest to the Uriti as the fleet accompanying it coasted along silently. Nefron had said the Uriti would not attack them once it had identified the ship as the source of the control signals, but just the same, he had the Zeus’s Admiral standing by to move them away at all possible speed if something did happen. In the doldrums of interstellar space there wasn’t much gravity to work with, but his ship was far more powerful than the Uriti was, so if they could get moving they could outrun it with ease.

Hopefully none of that would be necessary, but Riley didn’t like the idea of everyone on the command ship being sitting ducks while he poked the thing with a telepathic stick.

“This is pointless,” Nefron said in defeat, but still maintained the link for Riley’s sake. “There is no way to communicate short of the genetic routes installed, and we don’t have the option of inputting new ones. The Chixzon wanted point and click capability, not dialog, and all we’ve got to work with is what they devised.”

“That’s what makes it a challenge,” Riley said as his eyes were closed and most of his focus on the Uriti’s mind. It was so large and powerful it had a beauty to it that made you either run in fear or become transfixed, unable to tear your attention away as it droned out the rest of your senses…if you were a newb.

“I don’t even know how to approach this one. If you can’t fail and learn from it, how do you adapt? I can’t even get a score on this, if you could measure it. It’s completely obtuse.”

“Not completely, just close,” Riley differed. “I think we have to develop a different mental signature. It’s like it sees standard light and we’re trying to talk to it with radio waves. Language isn’t the issue.”

“My signals are no different.”

“Yeah, that’s what threw me initially. I’m speculating that it may only be conditioned to listen for those specific things and blind to everything else Chixzon. We have to appear, at least in a small way, to be Hadarak.”

“And you have a plan how to do that?”

“Working on it.”

“That’s reassuring,” Nefron said skeptically.

“If Aaron can learn to talk to ants, I should be able to find a way to talk to a Uriti.”

“Ants?”

“He’s spent a lot of time in the sanctums helping them interface with the denizens, and we’ve got a few ant colonies too…in addition to the ones elsewhere on the planet that we don’t control. You know what ants are, right?”

“That was covered in the maturia training.”

“Thought so.”

“What did he talk to them about?”

“Basic stuff. Directions. Needs. Danger. Their minds are so simple and preprogrammed there’s not much to work with, so in that respect this should be…easy,” Riley said with a wince.

“I thought the sanctuaries were designed to bring in native lifeforms out of the wild so they didn’t have to kill and eat each other to survive.”

“Partially. We also weren’t going to kill them to make room for more colonies. Some die anyway, like the ants. They’re just too small and everywhere. You step on them by accident.”

“I would guess you found a way to deal with that. At least partially?”

“Psionic sweeper teams. They go through and shoo away critters before we start digging. If there are anything the size of mice they make sure to dig them out and remove them from the site before the big machinery kicks in, but with ants, grubs, and other tiny insects the best we can do is warn them off.”

“Or not build there,” Nefron pointed out. “Not that I share your concern for the ants.”

“We don’t like to be sloppy. And we really don’t like the universe telling us we have to be.”

“What I know of this galaxy from the Chixzon differs greatly from what I’ve learned and observed in Star Force. It is a savage, messy, chaotic place. You’ve created the nearest thing to a utopia…and you’re worried about ants?”

“Don’t ever say ‘utopia,’ please.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, you’re going to jinx us. Secondly, when you get that in your head you blind yourself to all the injustices that still remain. With freedom comes the opportunity to misbehave, and even if every single individual didn’t harm another, there are still environmental dangers. A piece of wall falls down and crushes someone’s skull. Is that a utopia? It happens, and can happen every day. Life is never without risk, and no matter how much of this galaxy we clean up there’s always more to get to. We’ll never get it all, annoying as that is, so that’s why when we take on a new world and start cutting away the wilderness we don’t stop to avoid stepping on the ants.”

“I don’t entirely follow your logic.”

“If we do nothing, they are still dying every day from a myriad of causes. Same with the other critters out there. The wildness is too chaotic and robust with life trampling other life for us to be able to keep from killing anything, so we stick to fair game rules and do what we need to.”

“What rules are those?”

“If it’s big enough to move, move it. If it’s too small and there are too many, shoo them away, given them a chance to get clear, then come on in and get to work. If they’re burrowed down in the dirt and don’t leave, then they’ll have to take their chances with the digging equipment. We don’t ever intentionally kill them. Sometimes they just get in the way and we can’t afford to stop and look for another way.”

“Sounds counterintuitive, inefficient, and all around ridiculous. Star Force builds so fast that you must have some other factor in play?”

“If you’re building on lifeless planets you have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s a partial explanation.”

“Our sweeper teams have gotten to be very good over the years.”

“If you’re building in dense jungle, that has to take forever just to clear a square kilometer. And they have to have somewhere to go eventually. Building a sanctuary to hold an entire planet’s population of, as you said, ‘critters,’ is crazy.”

“Mitigating factors.”

“Such as?”

“A lot of the smaller ones don’t live very long anyway. They expire of other reasons, and the larger ones that we put into sanctuaries we keep separate along gender lines so they can’t reproduce. This gradually decreased the population over time and we can rid a planet of all native critters if we want without killing even one of them.”

“The larger ones anyway,” Nefron amended. “You can’t separate ants by genders. They reproduce by queen, correct…ah, I see. You pluck out the queens.”

“If we want to go to that extent, yes. But most ants are so small and widespread we don’t worry about them after the initial sweep. If we find a colony location we’ll move it, but individual ants running around isn’t something we can worry about. It took me a while to get that through my head without stopping caring about killing them, but it became obvious later.”

“What happened later?”

“I got my ass kicked by the Black Knight in a training challenge. Afterwards it dawned on me how little I actually have control of. The galaxy is so diverse and choked with life in some locations that if you move even a step you end up killing something. Do you stand still, a prisoner of the situation indefinitely? Or do you act and just let the chips fall where they may? We don’t intentionally kill anyone, but sometimes people are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s why Axius is split between large and small races, and there are still plenty of accidents anyway simply because of the size differences between a Human and an Irondel. Ants are far worse.”

“So you don’t approve, you just acknowledge the futility of it?”

“The universe has so many battles to fight we can’t even begin to start them all, let alone win them. We have to pick and choose, and size does matter. The little stuff we can’t get overly concerned with, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to knock someone on their ass if I see them going around and intentionally stomping on ants.”

“Coming from some of the greatest warriors in the galaxy, what you’re saying sounds incredibly odd. Especially when you’ve killed so many lizards.”

“They had a choice. An ant in your way doesn’t.”

“Orbital bombardment?”

“Their leaders had a choice. Those under our guns were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You pick and choose your fights,” Nefron echoed. “And if a group of people are acting as one, and their leader chooses for them, they all suffer the consequences.”

“Mercy is the luxury of the dominant. The tougher our opponent is, the less options we have when we fight them. And we’ll only go so far to safeguard our enemies. Bystanders are another matter entirely.”

“And these ants are bystanders?”

“You’ve never seen one, have you? Outside of pictures.”

“No.”

“Visit the sanctuaries sometime. It’ll give you some perspective.”

“As to what?”

“How helpless you can be, and how easy it is to turn a blind eye to those so much smaller than you. Most people don’t even give a second though about ants, let alone a first one. The idea of talking to them is something only a handful of people have come up with, then found a way to do.”

“And what have you gained from those talks, aside from ‘perspective.’”

“We’re trying to see if we can upgrade them through training.”

Nefron stared at him for a moment. “You’re serious?”

“We prefer that to genetic meddling.”

“You’re trying to upgrade all the sanctuary races, aren’t you?”

“It’s sort of a quiet hobby for Star Force. We don’t try it with all of them, but those we allow to reproduce we do work with.”

“To what end? There are far more other races out there to incorporate into Star Force if that is your aim.”

“We do it because we care. If we get a tactical or logistic advantage out of it, that’s just bonus.”

“Your caring seems overdone.”

“I truly hope Nami doesn’t share that sentiment, because to her we are ants.”

Nefron hesitated a moment, suddenly in a logic checkmate he hadn’t seen coming. Score one for the Archon.

“I wondered if you had a point floating around in there somewhere. You’re suggesting that the Uriti simply doesn’t care about us because we are too insignificant? And by us, I mean you. It will listen to me when necessary.”

“Only because the Chixzon forced it to. What does Nami think we are, from her point of view?”

“It has no gender.”

“Then I can call it whatever I want. What would an ant have to say or do to get your attention?”

“Something above and beyond its kin. There are so many of them that…”

Riley opened his eyes, having the same epiphany that Nefron was. “We need a bigger transmitter.”

“Our telepathic signal is so weak it’s disregarded unless specifically encoded. You said Aaron talked to ants. He did it because he chose to, not because they got his attention?”

“Like enthralling other races. The Uriti can take notice if it wants to, but if it doesn’t it just ignores all of us.”

“Ships are different,” Nefron pointed out. “But telepathically speaking, despite even your strength, we’re tiny. And your strength doesn’t translate through the transmitter. We are the size it makes us, so we need to build a bigger persona.”

“We’ve been whispering at a rock concert,” Riley said, taking his hands off the sphere and putting his palm against his forehead with a muted ‘whack.’ “It’s so obvious I don’t know how we missed it. How they…missed it. Or did they,” he said, whispering to himself.

“They?”

“Your evil twins,” Riley said, referencing the subject that Nefron knew they couldn’t talk about.

“Sometimes I think you’ve invented them just to mess with me.”

Riley smiled. “Damn, that does sound like something we would do. I’ll have to remember that for later.”

“The next Chixzon you find won’t be so talkative.”

“Dude, you really got to work on the jinxing thing.”

“Are we finished here?” Nefron said stoically.

The Archon visually brushed off the equipment around them. “Yeah. This stuff is no good aside from letting you steer. We’ve gotta get back in hardware mode.”

“The Chixzon tech isn’t easy to produce, and we’re not set up for it on this ship.”

“No, but we can get there. Give me a shopping list and I’ll see what we can pull from the fleet. If we have to send for parts I’ll send a courier off at the next system, but I’d rather build this inhouse if needed.”

“It’s going to have to be a large transmitter.”

“Yeah, I know. But going all the way back to a primary shipyard is a waste of time, and all we’re doing right now is sitting and twiddling our thumbs while we wait for Nami to get up the steps with her granny walker…and no, don’t ask. Old, old reference.”

“I think I got the gist of it. We lose nothing from trying…aside from some equipment.”

“We got plenty of that, so let’s get to shopping.”

Nefron disconnected from the Uriti and took a moment to flush his mind of its overbearing presence. “Very well. I instructed techs how to produce this equipment the first time. I can bear the tediousness again.”

Riley glanced over his shoulder at him as they walked out of the chamber. “Play nice,” he warned. “We put in a lot of tediousness trying to get your sanity back, remember?”

“That they did. You weren’t there.”

“My point stands.”

“If the techs that helped me build this were here, I wouldn’t have to instruct newbs a second time.”

“Then blame your Chixzon intellect for not anticipating we’d need this, and get to work on that list. I’d rather get to know Nami before the Trinx try and pull something.”

“A valid point, but I wouldn’t wager on the timing.”

“All the more reason to get this moving pronto.”

6

April 30, 3255

Targish System (lizard territory)

Stellar Orbit

Jarod Vermon woke up in bed suddenly as the ship’s alarm blared, half kicking off the covers as his mind snapped back into waking mode. He was only three hours into his sleep cycle, but a shipwide alarm meant that no longer mattered. It was one of several distinct, repetitive tones that had been drilled into him over 200 years before during his basic naval training, but this was the first time he’d ever been awoken by one.

The Human kicked off his covers and grabbed his shoes, not bothering to waste time changing into a proper uniform. He ran through the hallways in T-shirt and shorts until he came to a lift, took it four decks below, then ran some more until he eventually came to one of the large theater-like control decks onboard the Excalibur. Most of the seats were filled, but he hurried to an empty one and sat down, quickly logging himself into the station and awaiting orders as he pulled an auxiliary headset on and popped up a small regional map to see what the call to battlestations had been about.

“Shit,” he said a moment before a task was prioritized to him, seeing thousands of enemy vessels engaging the leading elements of the convoy as it came out of the jump ahead of the Uriti. There was a considerable delay between their arrival and it, then another delay back to the main group of escorts, meaning that Star Force didn’t have that many ships in the leading group as it seemed the Trinx had come back for round two in far greater numbers.

But what the Star Force task force did have was a lot of ships going to reinforce them within the hour, meaning that a stall play was in their favor, but more than that they had Paul onboard and there wasn’t another ship that Jarod would have preferred going into battle on than The Admiral’s.

A pair of Ichod pulse cannons were slotted to him onboard a drone cruiser with a slew of incoming missiles as priority targets. None of the missiles were directed at the ship he was now virtually on, but were headed for other targets and soon to be within weapons’ range of Star Force’s 2nd big addition to the fleet. For years Star Force had been making modifications to existing weapon systems, then over the last few centuries had been fielding more advanced batteries in a variety of designs. When the Dre’mo’don had come out it’d been declared as a ‘staple’ of the fleet, meaning tweaks would be made but they wouldn’t be looking to replace it with a different kind of weapon.

Given the sheer amount of firepower they possessed Jarod could see why. Just getting a weapon like that functional was a momentous achievement and he figured they’d been eyeing that bit of theoretical tech for a long time before finally making it viable even in the crudest of forms.

Well now they had another one, for the Ichod put every other point defense weapon Star Force had to shame and he expected to be piloting drones containing them for centuries to come. When he lined up both batteries to fire in different directions at different targets, he located a narrow slice of space rather than an individual target and pulled the mental trigger on a weapon that was too precise to be operated by hand controls.

The Trinx missiles glowed red and were the equivalent of tiny, agile spheres that were weaving in and out of ship formations and tracking whatever targets they wanted even if they had to fly far off course to get around obstacles. When they hit they stung individually, but in groups they could shred armor plates with ease…and they were even more dangerous against shields. Pelting them would drain their power so fast it was almost as if some of the drones had none the instant they were engaged in combat.

But Star Force drones were designed to fight without shields if necessary, and the more of these missiles that could be knocked down the more defenses Star Force would have intact…making Jarod’s small task extra important as he used computer calculations accessed through a mental link established via touch that allowed him to gain the speed and accuracy of a computer while retaining his own ability to guess and think ahead.

He fired the first pulse from one of the small cannons, sending a disc-shaped plate of white light out directly away from his ship, but as it flew it expanded in diameter, eventually covering some 23 meters by the time it hit the passing Trinx missiles, each of which was no more than 2 meters long, with more than enough lethality to wipe their little red glows from existence. The Ichod energy passed through, allowing another missile to be hit in the same salvo, but a split second later another Ichod pulse followed it, then another and another, firing off so rapidly that the pulse cannon looked like it was an oscillating lawn water sprinkler.

The missiles were flashing by in the hundreds on multiple sides of the cruiser and the further away from his ship they got the more the Ichod energy disc expanded. Once it got out to around 37 kilometers the matrix snapped and the energy mushroomed out like a small explosion, making these weapons short ranged whether you liked it or not. Fortunately shooting down missiles was exactly what they were designed to do, and targeting them at range was an almost impossible task giving the slightly weaving courses they all exhibited when flying in a ‘straight’ line. It was obviously a tactic employed to make them harder to shoot down, but with the Ichod he didn’t have to hit them dead on, rather he just had to get close…and the further away they were the wider the virtual hand he had to swat them out of existence.

Attacking two different targets simultaneously was old school for Jarod, a trick he’d learned long ago. He could operate 5 such weapons tracking individual targets with ease, but right now the massive command ship and its crew of drone pilots were packed into a relatively small number of ships given that a large chunk of those drones that they would normally oversee were trolling along behind the Uriti.

That was alright, because the less they had to work with the better they got in terms of accuracy and situational awareness. Jarod was even able to take a few glimpses of the overall situation as he efficiently shot down missiles, a lot of which were headed towards the command ship on which his physical body sat as his mind was situated in the perspective of the distant cruiser.

The pointed Trinx ships were teaming up to take on individual drones and take them down, with the tactic becoming abundantly clear that they weren’t going to let Star Force cycle them around to recharge shields. That had a disadvantage to it, for if the Trinx focused solely on a small number of ships the rest of them could pound the Trinx into oblivion…which is exactly what was happening.

Jarod didn’t get to see much beyond the immediate area around the cruiser where he was oriented from, but he could see the Trinx fleet being so obsessed with going after and eliminating specific drones that they were needlessly killed when flanked because they didn’t respond with weaponry or maneuvering. They just sat in place and fired, or continued chasing their targets. Some of the Star Force ships were being destroyed, and uncharacteristically quickly, but the Trinx were suffering horrible losses in exchange.

Then when a hole in the lines formed, the Trinx ships poured in towards the Excalibur with Jarod’s cruiser turned hard to starboard to cut across their path. The enemy ships ignored it, moving up and down to avoid a collision as they raced hard towards the giant armored donut. As their red hulls flashed by Jarod poured his two Ichods into their easy to hit targets, getting hundreds of repetitive hits that weakened shields and even burned away some armor from a ship that a Dre’mo’don hit just prior, knocking down its defenses.

There was no time to think ahead, so he just poured fire into every available marked target that came within range. A few had higher priority markers, which he paid due diligence to, but most were just common ‘shoot this if you can’ clearances coming from the pilots or commanders that were tagging everything so he and other gunners didn’t have to worry about sorting out friend from foe or good targets and bad targets…like a fuel ship that you didn’t want to detonate right in front of your face.

The Ichod were not meant to take on capital ships, but they were so damned powerful that they could do the job if given enough time. Like a chain saw cutting through a log, they’d whittle a ship down gradually though the enemy wasn’t standing still to oblige as they raced past his cruiser, so priority went to just inflicting whatever damage he could as they came into and out of range.

Paul saw them angling around the drones he’d ordered to interpose themselves between the Excalibur and the Trinx, judging correctly that that the enemy was interested in taking out specific targets and that his ship was now next in line. Fortunately Paul knew how to play hard to get, and he had drones angling in from all directions to break up the thick tendril of ships the Trinx were sending towards him. If they didn’t engage the flankers, all Paul had to do was turtle up and wait for the attrition to ensue…and if they did engage the attackers it would weaken their attempted gut punch against the now obvious flagship.

He sensed they wanted to eliminate him before the Uriti and the rest of the fleet arrived…which was why he gave the untypical order for the Excalibur to retreat as more and more drones darted in to fill the gap and play traffic cloggers.

“Sacrifices,” Paul whispered to himself as he saw how the Trinx were fighting and dying recklessly. It worked when they were able to overwhelm a target, but stretch them out a bit and you quickly reached a tipping point where your advantage switched over to vulnerability…and if you weren’t aware of that you’d end up aggressively delivering yourself to a slaughter.

The numbers the Trinx had here were significant, but if he could stretch them out just a bit more he thought he could get them to that decision point all the while his ship and the drones were filling the approach vector with so much weaponsfire that the Fourth of July would have been envious. Bloons launched where available, but it was the Dre’mo’dons that really packed a punch and they were flying from all directions. Tight clusters of them on the Excalibur were launching in sync and literally blowing holes into the Trinx ships with each salvo. Firing one against their shields hurt, but launch eight side by side and even the advanced enemy shields couldn’t stand up to that.

The drones couldn’t carry that much weaponry, but a few points on the Excalibur had been packed with it instead of spreading out the cannons evenly and Paul was rotating his big ship around to put those sweet spots into the most advantageous positions.

As all that happened he saw a Warship-class jumpship also be targeted, with a slew of Trinx ships ignoring all else and heading for it. It was heavily armored, but not as much as the Excalibur. It wouldn’t go down quickly, but Paul could already see that he had too few ships and the Trinx had too many to keep them from picking off a few select targets if they didn’t value their own lives.

That left him one option, and at the cost of the majority of his drones, he ordered all his big ships to turtle up and have the expendable weapons platforms form a defensive sphere around them to take the brunt of the attack.

Getting them into position was costly, for they’d fanned out upon arrival to better fight with crossfire options and Paul had to sometimes ram drones into Trinx ships in order to clear a path for recall, but eventually the Excalibur and the six warships with it got in so close together that they were able to increase shield strength in select areas while counting on the bulk of the nearby ships to block firing runs on others. A few Trinx ships could get through into the gaps, but not enough to do damage when they’d be toasted at point blank range with weaponry hitting them from multiple angles.

Now reinforced but with no chance of going after the enemy, Paul waited to see if the Trinx would back off or force the issue…and their tenacity did not disappoint. They refocused their efforts on a single warship on the edge of their 7 ship clump and Paul likewise reinforced the drone ‘hive’ in that area, but so much weaponsfire was getting through that the shields on the warship were already beginning to fail.

By the time they fell completely the Trinx were literally sacrificing three ships on approach to get one into firing position, but they were scoring some very big hits and Paul couldn’t move the Excalibur in to block for them because of their already packed formation. All he could do was play with the drones and try and buy time.

It wasn’t enough, and the warship took a huge hit on the port forward flank. Deck after deck was punctured even while other parts of the ship were still fighting. Drones flew in to interpose themselves like living armor, but the Trinx were in so close that they had to ram them out of the way in most cases. The carnage at that one spot was incredible…then all of a sudden the Trinx ships abandoned the attack and began to run away.

Paul saw why immediately as the system battlemap showed the Uriti braking out of its deceleration phase and coming up right behind them. That freaked out Paul too, because he didn’t know how it would respond to them being so close. He got everyone moving immediately, including the damaged warship that still had some engine capability, and out of the way of the smaller, but far deadlier player that had just arrived on the naval chess board.

It was ironic to Paul that something smaller than his command ship could pack so much power, but then again that’s why the V’kit’no’sat were all but unable to deal with the Hadarak…and the Chixzon had gone to lengths to add combat capability to the Uriti. This one wasn’t as large as the others, but still deadly enough to destroy all the ships with Paul in a very short period of time if they decided to stand still and slug it out. Running was to their advantage, thanks to the fact that for as powerful as the Uriti was, it was dead slow in comparison to starships.

That said, if one came your way, and you had any brains, you were the one to move and move early…especially when your control ship wasn’t here yet to call it off if it took offense to your presence or just yawned in the wrong direction.

As he got his ships out of the way he watched the Trinx, who were not sticking around to fight again. They were transitioning around stellar orbit to a nearby jumpline, making it clear that they had been sent here to do just one thing.

Take out as many ships in the leading task force as they could.

That told Paul that this was just the beginning and they were being whittled down for a larger strike to come. Next jump he’d have almost his entire fleet going first, though he was tempted to let the Uriti lead. While in lizard territory there wasn’t much chance of someone happening to get in the way, but now that the Uriti was on their leash they were responsible for it. That meant he had to go first and make sure the road was clear, even if there were lizard ships in the path.

The real question was, where would the Trinx hit them next? They didn’t know where Star Force was taking it, nor did they know even the next jumppoint they were taking. And big as this fleet was that hit them, rumors had it that the Trinx had far more in reserve and he seriously doubted that they wouldn’t be using them. Star Force had upstaged them and, in his gut, he got the feeling that the Trinx derived their identity from being a Uriti, or as they called it, a ‘Hamoriti’ guardian.

And he was pretty sure they didn’t want to relinquish that title or the power that it imposed upon them. Their priorities came before everyone else because of the Hamoriti, including screwing over a good portion of the galaxy by feeding the lizards tech in order to get what they wanted.

But all because of the Hamoriti…

He’d seen twisted logic like that before, and now that the Trinx were no longer needed and their impossible mission now ended, more or less, they were either going to be grateful or snap…and based upon the attack he’d just survived, ‘snapped’ was all but a certainty.

7

“Can your ships continue?” the Brpet’s hologram asked.

“It’s heavily damaged, but can limp along faster than the Uriti can travel,” Paul said, his voice betraying just a hint of anger. “The rest of our ships are being recovered while the Uriti takes a dip in the star. We’ll be able to move when it finishes.”

“Do you know how long it will take? Or do you tell it how long it has?” the Sety asked.

“If we let it go too long without eating the likelihood of it ignoring our commands increases. We can monitor its status, so we know its reserves are deplenishing. It was told to restock. We will know when it is finished.”

“Can you share this data with the rest of us?”

“I’m not feeling overly generous right now.”

“Do not hold us responsible for the Trinx’s attack.”

“If I was, your ship would be in pieces by now,” Paul said icily.

“Your curiosity about the Hamoriti can wait,” the cyborg told the Sety. “We have a much larger problem to deal with.”

“Agreed,” the Dati said passively. “Not only are the Trinx very strong militarily, they control a Hamoriti site. While I do not believe they would release it, no matter how askew from their responsibilities they have gone, I no longer feel comfortable with them having it.”

“If they do not release it, what threat is there?” the Sety argued.

“Perhaps they do not believe that the Chixzon is the only one who can control them,” the Jonstar said ominously. “I do not mean to pry, Archon, but are you certain that only he can send the proper signals. Cannot they be copied?”

“There are multiple redundancies in the signal to prevent unauthorized access,” Paul said simply. “I won’t go into detail as to what they are, but I am not worried about the Trinx being able to duplicate them. The Chixzon were very deliberate when they designed them, knowing that the galaxy would try anything and everything they could to stop them. The system is nearly fullproof. Even we can’t hack the system with the extensive knowledge we have of it.”

“And there is only one Chixzon around to control it.”

“Yes,” Paul said, understanding the significance of that statement more than they did, though he did not add the ‘for now.’

“Then the Trinx may simply want to destroy your ability to control the Hamoriti by destroying whatever ship he is on.”

“They’ve already tried that once,” the Domu pointed out. “Unless they mistook Paul’s ship for the other, they are pursuing a larger strategy.”

“There are too many of us here,” the cyborg argued. “They can’t mount a straightforward attack. They are trying to chip away at our strength while they gather theirs. They will strike again when the numbers are more to their advantage…and when they do, we must fight them.”

“They have been our allies for a very long time,” the Sety said cautiously. “We should not throw away that allegiance so casually.”

“They have betrayed us,” the Bpret said meekly, its body shifting in and out of alignment with its current humanoid form as it spoke, almost as if it was shivering with fear.

“I do not understand why,” the Breti said in agreement. “We have long hoped for a way to end the conflict, or at least to forestall it. Star Force has proved they are capable of this, the Trinx have seen it happen so there should be no doubt. Now they seek to destroy that control and return this Hamoriti to its rampages. What are they thinking?”

“Perhaps,” the Sety said apologetically to defend against a backlash, “they see Star Force control of it, and potentially the others, as more problematic. They did almost release another.”

“What is the alternative?” the Dati countered.

“They share control with us.”

“They refuse to, so I ask again, what is the alternative?”

“They reconsider,” the Sety pressed.

“Are we also going to have to oppose you at some point?” it asked bluntly.

The Sety didn’t answer, drawing intense scrutiny from the other 7 members present, for the Yisv had been absent ever since the group moved to the same system as the Hamoriti.

“Answer him,” the cyborg asked.

“We seek to renegotiate control,” the Sety finally said.

“What do you have to offer?” Paul interrupted before more bickering could break out.

“Offer?” the Sety repeated, somewhat shocked.

“Yes. You said negotiate. That typically involves one side offering the other something of value in exchange. You have done no such thing. You simply make demands. That is not negotiation.”

“We have given you a historical account.”

“I highly doubt you would see that as compensation for control over a Uriti if the situation were reversed, and in any case, that transfer has already been made. You are not getting control. Therefore what do you intend to negotiate beyond this point?”

“What is it you are demanding?”

“Nothing. You’re simply not getting control.”

“That is unacceptable.”

“You abandoning the H’kar to the Li’vorkrachnika is unacceptable.”

“We saved them.”

“Yes, you did. Points for that. Then you left them sit on the border without the help you promise all members of The Nexus. An attack on one is an attack on them all…except not with the H’kar.”

“Is that why you won’t share control?”

“It demonstrates that you are untrustworthy, and that your promises are not valid. As for the other races here, we don’t know you. Why would we give you control over something as powerful as a Uriti? Especially given the actions of your fellow guardians.”

“This is pointless,” the Jonstar said before anyone else could continue. “Only one person can control the Hamoriti, and his loyalty is to Star Force. If you seek to share control you will have to convince him, and I highly doubt anything the Sety can say or offer will sway his allegiance.”

“Where is he now?” the cyborg asked.

“Busy,” Paul answered. “Security is my responsibility now.”

“How convenient,” the Sety stated.

“If and when the Trinx strike again,” Paul said, staring at his hologram, “do I need to worry about your ships siding with them? Or should I run you off right now?”

“Allow me,” the Bpret said before the Sety could answer, then fixing him with his attention. “Will the Sety attack the Trinx in defense of the ship the Chixzon is onboard?”

“We will do what is appropriate.”

“Evasive. Answer directly. Will you engage the Trinx, or will you endanger the destruction of the controller of the Hamoriti and return us to the status quo we have barely managed to maintain?”

The Sety was silent for several seconds, then he finally relented. “We will not allow the Chixzon to be destroyed, but we are very hesitant to start a war with the Trinx.”

“They have already started one,” the cyborg noted.

“They have attacked Star Force, not us.”

“Star Force has the solution, therefore they are one of us now! And the most important one, in fact.”

“What happens when we reach our ultimate destination? A place that has not been identified as of yet.”

“We will keep the Uriti there and away from inhabited systems,” Paul answered.

“Is that a solution, or merely stalling the problem once again?”

“No one dies this way.”

“But the Hamoriti is still a risk.”

“Do you have an alternative to offer?” the Dati pressed, visibly annoyed. “We have heard nothing from the Sety except naysaying. We have real problems to address, and you are offering no solutions.”

“A group effort is required.”

“To do what?”

“Control the Hamoriti.”

“All that is required,” the cyborg reminded them, “is one Chixzon and one transmitter. The rest is irrelevant.”

“Agreed,” the Dati said. “If we must check our egos in order to protect them, so be it.”

“How about we turn this discussion into something productive,” Paul deflected. “The Sety once attacked the Preema, futilely. We’ve had contact with them and cooperated in the war against the Li’vorkrachnika. They recognized the long term threat they posed, and while they didn’t support us when we hit the most heavily defended worlds, they have done a great deal to help us. We have suspected, and I hope one of you will now confirm, that the Preema have a Uriti inside their territory.”

“Yes,” the cyborg said immediately, eyeing the Sety and daring him to complain. “An attempt was made to secure it that failed.”

“Do the Preema know it is there?”

“If they do, they had no visible infrastructure at that location. It is on an uninhabited planet within a system that has two Preema worlds. Can you negotiate access to that world?”

“I do not know, but it is something we’re going to look into. How many others are you missing?”

“One. It is within the territory of the Mrip, but not on a world they inhabit. We cannot get close to it.”

Paul frowned. “I’m not familiar with the Mrip.”

“They are far rimward. We would not have explored that far out on our own if we had not been given the location by the Oracle.”

“So you possess five between you?”

“We have stewardship. Possession is overstating the matter.”

“Are there other races out there hunting for them?”

“Not that we are aware. Very little evidence of the Ancients remains. Knowledge of the Hamoriti seems to have been erased from the memory of this part of the galaxy by the ravages of time, fortunately.”

“Do the Trinx have any allies they can call upon for support?”

“I do not know. The Chamra’s knowledge of this region is limited.”

“They do not,” the Breti said. “They only interact with us out of necessity. They prefer to keep to themselves…though they have accumulated considerable strength.”

“But only a few star systems?”

“I do not know why they have not expanded further.”

“Is it your guess that their strength has accumulated from lack of depletion or a robust industrial base that could easily replace losses?”

“The former. Their civilization is advanced, but small compared to the rest of us.”

“Then they have one card to play,” Paul said evenly. “A prolonged engagement means they lose. They have to use their accumulated assets to secure a quick victory.”

“I concur.”

“As do I,” the cyborg said, looking at the Sety. “Which is why we cannot allow anything to happen to the Chixzon…or Star Force.”

“What do you intend to do with the other Hamoriti?” the Sety asked, ignoring the Chamra.

“They stay where they are for the moment. Now that we have access to one, we’re going to study it to see if we can find an alternative solution.”

“A way to destroy them?” the Dati asked.

“The Uriti were created from something far larger called a Hadarak. They live in the center of the galaxy and occasionally push their way further out. There are many of them. Even if we destroyed all the Uriti, the Hadarak would still be there.”

“Do these Hadarak also produce minion armies that spread and conquer the galaxy?” the Sety scoffed.

Paul looked at him firmly. “Yes.”

A moment of silence hung there until the cyborg finally spoke. “Why are we not all dead then?”

“The Chixzon altered a captured Hadarak and used it to create Uriti. They altered it to their liking, including the ability to control it. The galactic conquest occurs differently for the Hadarak. The behavior you see in the Uriti is part Hadarak, part Chixzon programming. The Hadarak are just as dangerous, but in different ways. There are also races near the core that fight them and keep them from pushing this far rimward. My point is, the Uriti are not a unique threat. Killing them will not solve the problem if it is a monumental effort to do so.”

“The wonders and dangers of this galaxy run in parallel,” the Bpret said, quoting a text that none of the others were familiar with.

“How did the Chixzon deal with the Hadarak threat?”

“They avoided them. Their conquest of the galaxy was aimed at the rimward half. They did not go into the core and avoided the Hadarak when they came out, save for when one entered one of their major systems. They took heavy losses, but wounded and captured it. However, other Hadarak move in groups. They were lucky they only encountered one.”

“Groups?” the Jonstar said, shaking its hairy, elongated head. “We can’t handle even one.”

“We are not the masters of the galaxy,” the Dati said stoically, “though some of us seem to forget that. We can only deal with the threats that approach us, in whatever ways we are able. Star Force has given us, graciously, a solution to a problem that has not reached their own borders yet. On behalf of the Dati, we are immensely grateful and will assist you in the containment of this Hamoriti however we can, and we will defend your control ship to the last of us if necessary.”

“Thank you,” Paul said graciously.

“If you will allow it, I will send a courier back to my territory to instruct them to send representatives to your homeworld so that we can establish formal diplomatic relations.”

“Our homeworld is more or less off limits, but there is another major system nearby that we use for diplomatic contacts. You may send your representatives there.”

“I will do likewise,” the cyborg said. “If our ultimate destination is far from here, I will also call for reinforcements. Our territory is far away, but if they can arrive in time I want them here.”

“400 lightyears, give or take.”

“That will take the Hamoriti more than a year,” the Dati said.

“Far more,” the Sety corrected. “Unless it can move faster than we estimate?”

“It can’t move much faster than you’ve already seen it go,” Paul confirmed. “And we have reinforcements heading towards us. The more time goes by, the less opportunity the Trinx will have to strike.”

“How many more ships?” the Bpret asked.

“I don’t know. We sent word, how much is sent will be determined by factors that I am not aware of. But a lot are coming, I can guarantee you that.”

“Do the Trinx know this?” the Breti wondered.

“Have you been feeding them information?” Paul lightly accused, looking at the Sety.

“We have been with you the entire time.”

“A simple, honest ‘no’ will suffice.”

“No,” the Sety answered. “We are not feeding them information.”

“They may suspect it regardless,” the cyborg said before the Sety could say something antagonistic. “We are heading in the direction of your border. The only question is, how fast can they get their own reinforcements here?”

“Their systems are not that far away,” the Jonstar commented. “And given the speed we cannot muster, they will surely get to us before we reach the Star Force border.”

“Agreed,” the cyborg said, running mental calculations. “There is no time to send for reinforcements. If they are going to strike hard, it will be soon. And we will need every ship we can muster,” he said, looking at the Sety.

“If they force the issue, we will defend the controller.”

“But?” the Dati pressed.

“We will only defend the controller.”

“Fair enough,” Paul said before anyone else could speak. “But do so from range, and that goes for the rest of you as well. Leave point defense to my own ships.”

“So ours are destroyed first?” the Sety challenged.

Paul’s lip showed a touch of a snarl. “If I want your ships destroyed, I don’t need the Trinx to do it.”

“That is debatable.”

“Your allegiance is in question, and yet you continue to antagonize,” the cyborg said with evident frustration. “Do you not understand the stakes? Make it clear where you stand. If you will not fight against the Trinx then say so and leave this convoy. We cannot have any hesitation, and I do not blame them for not wanting us in close to the controller. It would be much easier for the Trinx to accomplish their goal if a hole in the formation formed via betrayal than if they have to fight their way in.”

“We know the stakes, Chamra. Do not assume we do not.”

“The Trinx know them as well, yet they continue with this madness.”

“I cannot say why they have done what they have. I understand some of their reasoning. Entrusting a Hamoriti to Star Force is a mistake, but their actions do not provide a solution. Even if there is a way for us to use what they know to find a way to control the Hamoriti for ourselves, destroying the ship that such knowledge is on is against our interests. The Trinx should know this, and while I did not fault them for attacking the first time when Star Force was waking up the second Hamoriti, I do fault them for trying to destroy the control that is now assumed over this one.”

“We have struggled for so long,” he continued, “that we should not be pushed aside so blithely, but there is no excuse for destroying the only known means to control this menace. The Sety will not attack the control ship, nor will we let the Trinx do so. That is necessity. Star Force remaining in control is not. We will continue to negotiate for shared control and exert what leverage is necessary, but we will not endanger the solution. On that you can trust us without question, and I do not believe anything in our past actions would suggest otherwise.”

“And what of the past actions of the Trinx?” the cyborg pointed out. “Was there anything there to precipitate this betrayal?”

“Their actions are their own, and they were not totally unprovoked. Judge us by our own. We will not allow any Hamoriti to run free, no matter what the cost.”

8

June 8, 3255

Mesnqua System (lizard territory)

Stellar Orbit

Riley’s command ship came out of its jump along with a few dozen other Star Force jumpships at the tail end of the convoy line. The bulk of the combined fleet had traveled to this system first, getting there ahead of the Uriti, but Nefron had to leave last in order to make sure that Nami actually jumped out.

They arrived back into range of sensor signal stability and the Uriti and the fleet popped up on the battlemap, with the ships already transitioning around the star to their next jumppoint. The Zeus and its escorts followed while Nefron signaled to the Uriti as to which jumpline to take out. As soon as it got moving from its holding position the battlemap lit up with signals popping out from the upper atmosphere of the star as they skimmed it in a very tight and fast orbit.

The stellar interference let them get far closer than they normally would have been able to without being detected, but they weren’t exactly on their doorstep as of yet. The Zeus was within communications range of Paul’s fleet so he opened up a holographic transmission that suffered from just a touch of lag.

“There they are,” he said to Paul’s image as the sensor silhouettes on the ships racing towards them were identified as Trinx. “Run or fight?”

“You…run. Now.”

“Coming to you,” Riley said as he ordered the ship and crew to get them to the others with a simple waypoint that he knew the Admiral would coordinate the navigation to, leaving him free to deal with other matters. “Those leading ships are going to be here before we see their full numbers, I’ll bet you anything.”

“Bluff or bait?” Paul wondered.

“We’re all here together. They’re not going to be able to isolate some of us, not with that closure rate. I think they’re here to slug it out.”

“Or make a pinpoint attack run on you then beat it before we pound them.”

“Fight,” Riley decided. “They want an ass kicking, so let’s deliver it.”

“You read my mind. Too bad you can’t ask the Uriti to help.”

“It’d probably kill us all in the process. I’ll have Nefron tell it to park in a holding orbit. Pick your battlefield and we’ll come to you.”

“Already have,” Paul said, sending him a waypoint. “You’re middle of the formation in turtle mode. Watch for kamikaze runs, and I’ll have four shield ships tasked directly on you. We…heads up.”

Riley was about to ask what for, but Paul send the information mentally and Riley spotted the wrinkle in the star pattern on the sensors. It wasn’t a black silhouette like the Ma’kri made, for it was showing stars, but they weren’t pinpoint perfect…though they were on the opposite side of his taskforce and coming in at them like a pincher only seconds away.

The jumpships with the Zeus, accelerating hard as they were, cut their engines and began to coast as the command ship zoomed on ahead. As soon as the break happened the elongated jumpships began throwing out a shower of drones that individually accelerated on ahead when they got clear and angled to intercept the cloaked ships.

They didn’t make it in time, with the leading Trinx ships popping onto the sensors as they fired massive energy beams that defied the color spectrum, looking as if they were bending the starlight behind them as they traveled into a kaleidoscope of distortion. As soon as they were fired the cloaking mechanism disengaged, with the ships popping up in clusters as the beams leapt out towards the command ship and hit its shields, some of which missed entirely as the Zeus wobbled back and forth as it ran towards the still distant allied fleet.

The first few strikes did nothing to it, barely draining any power, but there was a residue on the shields that didn’t dissipate and instead built up with each subsequent hit. After 30 or so strikes the Zeus’ acceleration diminished and the Trinx ships came up within range where their shots would no longer miss.

Two of them exploded under return fire from the command ship, but the more strikes that hit and coated the shields with residue the slower it got…up until it dropped its shields entirely and got another boost of speed as it shed its shackles.

The hull got coated with a few hits, but then weaker shields reformed and began catching the incoming fire again that gradually built up and slowed it down a second time as the drones from the trailing jumpships finally rejoined Riley and dove into the 293 Trinx ships that had snuck up on them.

A myriad of weaponsfire broke out between them, but the big beams kept firing on the command ship until the dampening effect was so great that the Zeus lost all maneuvering ability as its gravity drives were denied their grip on the distant gravity wells. It coasted onward, gaining ground on Paul’s fleet that was still racing towards it, but the much larger Trinx fleet coming up from the star was going to get to them first.

“I got ganked,” he told Paul unnecessarily. “These beams are laden with IDF. I’m dead in the water.”

“Looks like they’re going to have 3 minutes of alone time with you. Stall as much as you can…” Paul said direly as something else happened on the battlemap. Suddenly several ships within the allied fleet were showing activity beyond the chase they’d all instituted immediately upon seeing the Trinx heading for the Zeus. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, and even then he didn’t fully understand.

“Looks like the Dati are going to get to you first,” Paul commented as Riley was now engaged in a fierce battle with the ambushing Trinx fleet that was going to end up very one sided if allowed to persist on its own as half his drones caught up and surrounded the command ship while the others hammered the Trinx ships in a melee that was about to cost the enemy every ship they’d sent out to delay them.

Riley split his attention, focusing on the contacts that had somehow shot out ahead of the rest of the fleet. He saw the last few spurt ahead as several of the Dati ships were clustered together along with the rest of the fleet, with the gaggle of ships all accelerating at their best speeds and not staying in formation. It was chaotic, but they all knew that every second counted and it looked like the Chamra were the fastest of the bunch.

Save for the Dati when that clump of ships suddenly broke apart with half flying forward in a surge of speed and the other half moving backways and almost colliding with other ships. Somehow they had a system rigged where they could throw each other, and for the force that sent them forward there was an equal and opposite reaction that sent the others backward. Add in their continual acceleration and the Dati ships, in considerably reduced number, were going to get to Riley before the rest of the Trinx did…but at far too great a speed.

“They’re going to overshoot unless they can spurt in reverse,” Riley commented as he personally sighted a Trinx ship with a Keema battery and saw the beam go in one side of its red hull and out the other.

“I think that’s exactly what they’re going to do,” Paul said, his voice tight. “Use the Trinx debris to buy you some time.”

“We can’t…oh, right. My bad,” Riley said, ordering his drones and jumpship crews to grab and haul whatever bits they could when they were done shooting and nudge it into the shrinking gap between the approaching Trinx fleet and the Zeus if only to reduce some of the soon to be incoming weaponsfire.

When the Dati ships got right up to them and ready to overshoot their little clusters broke again, sending half of them on past even faster than before while braking the other half into range where they could slow down enough on their own and drop into a position between the Star Force ships and the Trinx…but they didn’t sit there and wait to be attacked. Instead they turned and suicidally headed towards the approaching Trinx fleet that, while stretched out in a long line, was numbering over 6,000 vessels already with that count increasing as they continued rounding the edge of the star.

Meanwhile Riley finished off the last of the Trinx ambush force as he cycled his shields again, getting rid of most of the IDF inhibitor save for what was on his hull and finding that most of his gravity drives were restored. He used them to reposition slightly, with the Trinx only 24 seconds away now and him wanting to make use of the few pieces of debris that had been flung out ahead of them.

As he watched, the Dati opened fire on the Trinx but didn’t hold to their head on attack. They swerved wide while firing, lacing the passing ships and daring them to break and chase them. The Trinx returned fire but did not alter course.

In response the Dati slowed and reversed momentum, gradually accelerating to speed to match the breaking Trinx wave and pulling even, at which point they turned hard and cut across the Trinx lines, firing small projectiles into the gaps between the ships that detonated into giant energy nets that draped over several ships at once and held firm for a few seconds until they passed through the Trinx shields and disintegrated when they hit the hull. That disruption flowed in a slow chain reaction throughout the net, resulting in its disappearance a few seconds later.

But the Trinx ships that had been hit no longer were protected by energy shields.

The smaller Dati ships swarmed them, pummeling their hulls relentlessly with as much disdain for the others attacking them as the Trinx were showing for all other ships aside from their primary target. By the time that section of Trinx ships hit the main battle that was growing quickly, the Dati had eliminated 6 vessels with another 4 nearly ready to fall. It wasn’t much compared to the vast numbers in play, but it did extend the survivability of the Zeus for a few more seconds as the leading Chamra vessels finally caught up and decelerated hard to land their high volume, low surface area technological dirt clods of vessels into the Trinx fleet as they tore through the Star Force drones trying to get to the command ship.

The Trinx vessels were of three designs….basic warships, vassal warships, and heavy warships…though some of them had been reconstructed into troop transports without giving any exterior clues as to their purpose. One of those basic warships flew along with the flow of Trinx ships and dove around a massive Chamra interdictor as a few others stopped to engage it for the simple reason that there was nowhere else to go with so many other Trinx vessels blocking their maneuvering possibilities.

The troop transport continued to fly forward, firing at targets when able but not deterring from its course. Other Trinx warships plowed the road for it without being obvious about their intentions, fighting their way through Star Force drones and into the short gap around the command ship that was a free fire area. There the troop transport hit a wall and all but stopped until its engines increased power to push through the energy field that was all but pinning it in place along with several other ships as the Star Force vessel fired on them.

More Trinx vessels made their way in, stressing the field, and suddenly half of them darted forward, completely passing the command ship and flying out of weapons range behind it. The troop ship was still stuck and motoring closer as a warship dipped in front of it and physically rammed a drone that was coming in to block it.

A few meters more and the troop ship was past the energy field and only a kilometer away from the hull as blast of energy hit it and tore a chunk of the ship apart even after the shields absorbed most of the blast. A few seconds later and the prow of the ship hit the Star Force shields that were getting weaker by the second as more and more Trinx ships got through the defense lines while the bulk of the allied fleet was only just now arriving to try and peel them off.

For whatever reason this troop ship survived while many others were blown to bits at pointblank range, lasting long enough for its forward armor plates to blow off and reveal the shield penetrators beneath them. They pressed into the invisible energy barrier and gradually forced a hole to form, barely two meters wide, then slowly they peeled it apart wide enough for the entire ship to slip through.

It never made it to the hull through. A seldom used rail gun battery tipped over as much as it could and fired a slug into the side of the ship, punching a hole through one of the power generators and cutting the power to a third of the ship. Subsequent slugs did additional damage and took the ship out of commission.

A few tractor beams held onto it, latching it in place to be used as a physical block while the shields reformed around all the little gaps it had created, but two Trinx ships behind it fired on their own wrecked vessel and blew it apart enough that another troop ship was able to dive into the gaping hole, bypassing the command ship’s shields surrounding it, and pushing through the wreckage down to the pristine grey hull beneath with the wreckage actually acting as an additional layer of protection for it.

When the forward section of the troop ship got within range it tore through both the remains of the Trinx vessel and the Star Force plates with cutters designed for such a task. Likewise there were other breach points across the giant donut as Trinx ships made their way through and attached like ticks that were slowly burning access points inside. But just as many that got through were pulled off by the ship’s weaponry or the nearby drones that were sometimes making suicide runs to sheer them off when weaponsfire alone wasn’t sufficient.

One Trinx ‘tick’ was sheered clear off by a Sety vessel that got within a few hundred meters of it and fired a beam directly through the nose, subsequently hitting and weakening the command ship’s shields on the other side, but ensuring that this Trinx vessel could deliver no more damage to the Zeus.

But more kept coming in and too many for the command ship to hold out against, for a lot of the incoming Trinx vessels were diverting slightly to intercept and peel off the support so more of the sporadic troop ships could make it to the target.

Eventually one did get through, burning into the hull and breaking through the armored plates just before it was destroyed. With that opening noted, a Dati ship flew in and sat over top of it until several more Trinx ships destroyed it and forced another troop ship into position, docking against the hull and sending a spurt of soldiers down through the breach.

They were all vassals, the robotic Trinx infantry, that began blasting and cutting apart the underside of the armor to make room for more to come in as that troop ship was pried off by a Jonstar ram. The few dozen vassals that were deep enough in the command ship to survive kept digging, tearing out components and shoving them off into space to make room for the next one to fight its way into position.

When it arrived it was able to deliver far more, all of which quickly continued to pry out components and make additional room up until they breached one of the maintenance areas. Atmosphere flew out, pushing several vassals into space while the other ones latched onto broken equipment and held tight until three of them welded themselves into place around the hole and together emitted a containment shield that stopped the atmospheric flow.

After that the others passed through the small opening and got their feet on deck plates, immediately transitioning into combat programming but finding no one nearby, nor would they for more than 20 minutes as they were the in the far exterior of the ship where the crew only went to make repairs or perform maintenance. That gave the vassals free run of the area and they quickly set up a perimeter to allow for more and more troops to enter, eventually with a few Trinx themselves accompanying the robotic troops.

They came in knowing that their minds could become compromised, but that wouldn’t affect the vassals. They were programmed not to take orders from the Trinx with them unless they fell within standard protocols, for there were concerns that the Archons could do more than just freeze their minds. No, they were here to supplement the vassals and do reconnaissance that they could feed to the rest of the fleet, adapting as needed to however the ship’s crew decided to put up a fight.

Destroying this ship was an option, and the backup plan, but their primary objective was to take it and the Chixzon intact…or if the Chixzon couldn’t be captured, at least secure the technology that it was using to control the Hamoriti. Even if it was encoded, given enough time the Trinx would figure it out, and they could keep the Hamoriti suppressed as they had been doing as long as needed up until the time came when they could end this threat and gain their power for themselves.

After so many years of dutiful service, the idea of the latter felt as just compensation for their loyalty to the Ancients’ legacy and the Trinx boarding the command ship and those dying in the ships making such a feat possible were fully committed to that end. Star Force could not be trusted with the Hamoriti, and they would take that control from them one way or another, no matter how many of them had to die in the process.

That was the oath their race had sworn long ago, and they were not about to abandon it now that their fealty had been rewarded with a possible solution to the inevitable doom that they had stubbornly resisted for millennia.

9

Veronica Rith stood in the equipment room along with the other 7 Knights onboard the Zeus. While they liked crewing onboard Star Force’s navy ships and handling the odd jobs required of them, sitting and doing nothing when the ship was in battle was annoying, making the current beating they were taking all but unbearable. They watched a holographic map of the battle taking place around the ship and saw all the damage the hull was taking in addition to the destruction of so many drones and allied ships trying to keep the Trinx off the command ship.

They also saw the breaching ships sucking on the hull like ticks. They didn’t know what they were doing for sure, fearing that they would be sending bombs inside the armor to shred the interior of the ship. The Knights would be safe within the armored core, but the bulk of the ship that allowed it to move and fight would not be. They might live, but they’d be dead in the water and little more than debris waiting for a rescue that might not be coming considering how many enemy ships were pouring in around them.

Then there was also the possibility that the Trinx were going to pound the Zeus until there was nothing left of it, and armored core or not, eventually they’d get through to the crew unless others intervened.

Suddenly each of their HUDs lit up with orders along with an automated message playing. Veronica didn’t have her helmet on, so instead another hologram materialized in front of her eyes with the neck of her armor sending out a tendril that connected up to her left ear.

“Intruder alert. Enemy troops have boarded the ship. Rendezvous at provided waypoints for combat,” the computerized voice said evenly as a position on the edge of the Zeus’ armored core was indicated.

The Knight next to Veronica punched his own hand in anticipation and anger, but none of them said a word as they filed out. All of them were eager to get into the fight, but the fact that the Trinx had boarded their flagship was equally pissing them off.

Commando Sans Brett ducked to a knee behind a chunk of machinery in one of the maintenance wings deep into the outer ring of the command ship as a zap of energy flashed over his head from one of the mechanized infantry that had invaded the ship. The ‘clankers,’ as they’d been labeled by Star Force a few months earlier, had decent armor plating that took a lot of hits to get through, but they were dumb as hell. When they had numbers, however, they were very dangerous and the few commandos with Sans were fighting on the withdrawal after making contact with this group as they pressed their way through the ship while stopping periodically to sabotage equipment.

Sans returned fire with a quick sniping shot from his plasma rifle, then pulled back behind a bulkhead as his shields got cooked. With his eye line momentarily off the attackers, he saw a mass of white armor coming up behind them and got a ping on his battlemap a split second later.

The huge white shield of the Knight was held up in front of him taking hits as the commandos dropped into file behind the blocker and Sans did the same as soon as they passed, grateful for the help. They ran up to the clankers and the Knight punched one with the shield itself as a burn mark became visible in it as the enemy weaponsfire began to eat through.

The tall machine staggered, then a shoulder added to the back side of the shield toppled them both over as the commandos unloaded into the clankers at point blank range.

The Knight released the shield and darted forward, tackling another clanker around the legs and driving it backwards into a side wall. It lowered a hand and shot into the Knight’s shielded back a moment before the oversized Human lifted the machine off its feet and spun it around slowly before a short toss sent it on its head and the Knight’s knee landed in its back. Sans saw the Knight pulled out a weapon and pump a repeated salvo of plasma hits into its back until it burnt through the armor and eventually killed the machine.

Meanwhile he was shooting others and getting quite a few dings in his own armor. A few more shots and he had to fall back, giving himself time to regenerate shields. As he did so a flash of green flew past and his battlemap tagged the blur as an Archon ranger. With him came orders, and Sans pulled back and circled around to the hallway one section over, running to get into position while also giving his shields enough time to snap back into position over his dirty white armor that seemed inconsequential compared to the gleaming Knight.

He had a lot of running to do, for the ship was split up into sections that had a lot of machinery in them and the access ways were limited. Halfway there he came across someone else, not a machine, but an armored individual with two headtails and a black visor over its face. As soon as it saw him it fired a ruby red bolt that hit him in the center of his chest, then it spun around and ran fast as he dodged to the left in anticipation of a second shot.

Sans tagged the intruder on the battlemap then headed back to the flanking maneuver the Archon had indicated.

Veronica sprinted for all she was worth, having dropped her shield long ago and had her weaponry on her back so her arms could swing free and hard. She rounded a corner nearly skidding into the far wall as her right foot lost traction, but an outstretched hand caught and redirected her momentum as she came back within sight of the swaying pair of headtails ahead of her. The Trinx, she assumed, had just gunned down an Archon and ran. She’d taken off after it and nearly lost it twice, for it had a camouflage unit that was damn near a cloaking device.

Ahead the Trinx started to waver like heat waves on a sunny day. Veronica pulled her pistol out and put another shot into him, cancelling the effect and returning him to full visibility. Apparently their stealth suits had a recharge delay and every shot she’d put into it had kept him visible.

The Knight put the pistol back into its slot on her lower back, knowing she wasn’t going to need it but wanted her hands free. The movement cost her a little bit of speed, but some twenty seconds later, running down the incredibly long hall, she caught up to and grabbed one of the headtails with her left hand and yanked…

The Trinx tripped, falling backwards and skidding across the ground as Veronica came down on top of him with her knee and pinned him to the floor, pounding on his armored face with her fists even before the pair had ground to halt. A few more heavy punches and his helmet cracked, with her reaching down to the neck and yanking it off his head. As she did so he got a shot off into her abdomen, but she knocked his gun out of his hand with a simple swat as she pulled out her pistol and put it up against the Trinx’s head.

Two quick shots and he was gone, with the Knight getting to her feet and kicking the corpse once out of frustration before running off to rejoin the others as more and more clankers poured into the ship from access points that the defenders couldn’t fight their way to in order to close off.

Nefron followed a tech as he lead him to the waypoint that the troops were using just outside the armored core where there were other techs and ships’ crew that weren’t needed in the naval battle that were forming a backup line of defense in case the Trinx got all the way to the interior. The Chixzon passed them by, following the faint telepathic signals ahead as he ran towards them. There was a lot of ship to move through that he was unfamiliar with, but it didn’t take long until he came up behind one position that had a handful of commandos and a Knight taking on what looked like a much larger group of the Trinx machines that were trying to push their way to the ship’s interior.

The Chixzon’s eyes glowed green as he growled and ran straight towards them, curiously noting that they didn’t fire on him as he pushed past one commando’s sniping position and went head first into the machines, digging both glowing spike mandibles into the chest of one, then throwing it backwards and knocking down another as he spun around and started punching and stabbing everything in view as a burst of energy hit him.

Most of it absorbed, but he could tell it wasn’t damaging, but rather a stun. Immediately he knew what that meant.

The Trinx didn’t just want this ship, they want him…and they wanted him alive.

With a snarl he pushed further into the machines, digging his glowing spikes through them and melting cuts across their limbs and torsos as more and more of the stuns hit him. He was starting to get wobbly, but they obviously didn’t know of his ability to absorb energy. When he felt like he’d gotten enough he tucked his spikes in against his back and pushed through the thick lines of machines, essentially delivering himself to them as he got some distance away from the Humans fighting behind them.

His right leg gave out as it suddenly got wobbly, then when he hit the deck with his knee he released his built up energy in a cascade of lightning strikes that arced from one machine to another for a few jumps. Half a dozen of them fell to the ground toasty, with a few more smoking with damage but still active. One tried to shoot at him but found its weapon wasn’t working, then Nefron put it out of its simulated misery with a pair of spikes to the chest that he dragged to the right, partially cutting through the dense plates but also pulling the machine to the side enough that it knocked another one down as he used a handhold to give himself the extra leverage needed to topple it.

He pried his spikes out with ease then leapt backwards, jumping over a fallen machine as he retreated before he could take too many stun hits. The machines all followed him and he led them back into a hastily constructed ambush that ended with him staggering and falling to the ground where he blacked out for the last few seconds.

A Knight’s helmet was the next thing he saw when he woke back up, then when his eyes locked on it a massive hand pushed beneath his back and sat him up.

“They have orders to go after you,” Veronica said.

“It appears so,” he said, looking into her helmet. “We can use that.”

“How many more hits can you take?”

“I’m purging the stun already.”

“Good, because we’ve got about 20 seconds. Run or fight?”

“Run. I need a couple minutes at best,” he said, getting to his feet. “Then we can go at them.”

“Watch where you point those things,” she said, gesturing to his spike mandibles as she pulled him up into a run with the commandos forming a protective screen around the Chixzon as the sound of the incoming machines was getting louder coming from around a corner 20 meters further down the hall.

Leaving the Admiral in charge of what weaponry still worked, Riley stepped into his armor that he’d had a crewmember fetch for him during the battle and ran off the bridge, sprinting through the hallways on his way out to the battle within the ship. More and more Trinx reinforcements were getting in, but they were paying a heavy price to do it. For every ship that offloaded ten more were destroyed before they could get into position. Paul had the situation about 8 minutes from turning as he drove several tendrils of ships into a wide grasp around the Zeus and the ships battling within it, and once he did he could cut off most of their reinforcements. Until then the battle raged on at a furious pace with the 7 allied races holding up to the promise and fighting just as savagely as the Trinx were to defend his command ship.

There wasn’t a lot he could do from the bridge now, but there was a lot he could do to keep the Trinx troops from getting to the transmitter and his crew. It wasn’t until he was almost to the fighting did he realize that Nefron was out there as well and he almost cussed the idiot out, but just as quickly canceled that thought. There wasn’t a full ground troops compliment on the ship, only a handful of security and naval Archons that were suiting up and leaving what ship to ship combat remained to the naval regulars.

Nefron could fight, so it was probably a good idea he was throwing in too…unless he got killed, in which case the Uriti was suddenly going to become a huge problem all over again.

Knowing that, he headed for where he was sensing his telepathic presence but ran into an unopposed column of Trinx vassals heading down a hallway towards him. The ViLord didn’t even hesitate as they opened fire, simply letting his shields take a few hits as he sprinted at full speed towards them. When he got within a few meters he summoned up a Jumat blast in his right arm, pooling it around the his armor and building up the charge before releasing it…and tossing half the column back and into the air as if they were toys.

Then he was in their midst, fighting hand to hand with the bigger machines and finding it easier to damage them with brute force than weaponsfire. After a few shots from his rifle he tossed it aside and exclusively went at them with his arms, legs, and psionics. After a few minutes of one sided combat he finished the last pair of vassals by telekinetically ripping their heads off and throwing a point blank Jumat blast down inside one of them and tossing the other into the side wall. When it slumped to the ground an armored elbow drove into a crack in the chest plate and punctured through, with his fist soon to follow and a piñata bloom of shrapnel soon after that.

Riley was expending his energy too fast, he knew, but there was no time to waste. Sucking some ambrosia from his helmet he ran on towards Nefron’s mental signature, hoping that there weren’t many more of these unopposed Trinx assault teams heading for the core of the ship.

Onboard the Excalibur, Paul’s face was covered in sweat as he stood in the nexus overextending himself in order to control as many ship functions as he could throughout the drone fleet while orchestrating the entire battle simultaneously. Riley was in trouble, and couldn’t run so long as the Trinx kept blanketing his ship’s hull with that IDF coating. It was obvious that they wanted to capture it, but Paul had no doubt that destroying it was the backup plan and he needed to end their stranglehold on the perimeter as soon as possible.

That wasn’t easy, given that this was actually a fair fight. The Trinx had brought a ship count in the tens of thousands that Paul hadn’t had the time to tally up or to ask the combat computer to do so for him. More were still coming in from behind the star where they’d been hiding, but it was those immediately around the Zeus that were the concern and those nearly upon them. Paul had to intercept those reinforcements and block them off, but the Trinx were fighting him hard on that and attacking his drones as much as they were trying to blow by them.

He was gaining ground though, but it wasn’t fast enough. Already there ships boarding the Zeus through 16 different breach points in the hull, and no matter how fast Paul’s ships destroyed them more would come in while others would block the firing lines and make him destroy them first before he could get to the boarding ships.

The allies were helping, but they were incredibly disorganized and it was frustrating to Paul, for had he been able to give them orders this situation would have been resolved by now. They fought as individual ships or sometimes units, but they were not coordinated even within their own race. This battle was so large and chaotic that the only thing that was holding together the allies was Paul’s efforts and the precise coordination of the drone fleet. Paul’s people knew how to integrate with his orders and take a lot of the effort off him, but there was so many adjustments to make to compensate for their allies and the actions of the Trinx that Paul was stretching himself beyond his previous limits. He’d never gone this deep in training, nor did he have time to consider why or how or anything else.

Every second was consumed with fighting and had a new enemy showed up behind them he would have been blindsided, for his focus was on the Zeus and everything radiating out beyond it. He couldn’t spare a glance at the star or anywhere else…not when his brother’s life was on the line, not to mention Nefron and the only hope to control the Uriti.

Paul didn’t even have time to mentally curse the Trinx. Everything he had was poured into maneuvering and fighting his ships to aid the Zeus and cover for the chaotic actions of their allies in order to make use of them, and it wasn’t an effort he could keep up forever.

10

Nia-11917 stood in the nexus onboard a Warship-class jumpship overseeing the drones that it had launched in conjunction with Paul’s overall command. He was micromanaging so much that she was filling in on lower level duties wherever she could to assist him but could see that time was running out. Making the decision to override the trailblazer, she relinquished all drones to him and the remote pilots but took direct control over the jumpship and powered down all weapons, channeling as much power as she could into the shields and rammed the Trinx ship ahead.

It was a low level impact, with the much larger jumpship pushing it aside before the forward shields collapsed. Nia then drove the ship into another, and another, and another…battering her way through the blocking ships and doing monstrous damage to the front of the warship. The bloon launcher was destroyed, along with most of the forward weaponry, and crew were being evacuated from the forward regions as she drove the ship on towards the Zeus, sometimes having to avoid allied ships that were getting in the way.

Eventually she got to the command ship, her own taking heavy fire and the crew evacuating to bunkers within the ship as the outer levels got vaporized with numerous weapon strikes. The drones the ship were controlling were diverted to other remote pilots as the massive ship continued to break apart as it flew into position over top the command ship and sunk down against it, crushing two docked Trinx vessels even as chunks of the jumpship flew off as it was now being heavily targeted.

But Nia kept it there, physically blocking a large section of the command ship’s hull with its own and giving Paul a naval pick to work off of without bothering to communicate that to him and distract him further. She knew he’d see what she’d done and make use of it, and if one ship was going to be destroyed better it be the jumpship than the command ship, for it and it alone had the ability to control the Uriti…and it had a trailblazer onboard.

A minute later an explosion broke through to the bridge, a small one, but the crew stayed at their posts knowing that there was no better armed section of the ship to retreat into. They did pull back from the breach point as Nia analyzed the damage within the ship and quickly came up with an escape route to buy them time. She mentally connected to them all and told them to leave via a specific door and travel deeper into the part of the ship that had the least damage while she stayed behind in the nexus.

Some of them resisted, but there was nothing left for them to do here and ultimately they decided to trust her, fleeing the armored cocoon of the bridge as it began to fail and running through less safe corridors that had not yet come under weapon hits.

Nia stayed put and linked to the ship’s systems, guiding them remotely along with the rest of the crew to try and keep them as safe as possible, noticing that within another minute there were four more jumpships doing the same thing and barreling through the enemy fleet. Breaking apart under weapons fire, they clustered around the Zeus, using their dying mass as a shield and crunching the attached docked vessels while blocking the boarding points against further incursions.

It wasn’t typical Star Force strategy, but the Zeus had been caught off guard and the Archons were improvising, which instilled a swell of pride in Nia as she saw the enemy thwarted even as the bridge wall next to her blew out and knocked her aside.

Paul didn’t like what those jumpships were doing, but he was grateful for it. The drones simply didn’t have the mass to force their way through the Trinx ships and the growing debris field, but they did. It was costing them badly, but they’d made it all the way in to the Zeus and they were not going to be easily removed. Even as dead ships they were now blocking attacks or boarding attempts onto Riley’s ship and the only way to get them out of the way was to blast them into oblivion or push them aside.

The Trinx couldn’t get enough ships into position to do either, meaning those jumpships had just succeeded in blocking off most of the incoming troop transports and their escorts from the command ship. With Paul’s vice grip tightening around the area even the Trinx saw that their attempts to capture the ship were going to fail, so they stopped trying to preserve the command ship and fired on every piece of it that was visible through the gaps between the jumpships.

Paul moved as many drones into position as he could, but it wasn’t enough. He just didn’t have them in close enough yet, but the allied fleets did and they physically moved in and took the hits, forming a spherical wall around the Zeus even as the Trinx were shooting them up and ramming some of them to open up holes.

Paul had been in many battles against the lizards that had a greater level of carnage than this, but none of them had ever been focused as intently on a single point as now, making the area around the Zeus so chaotic and destructive that it surpassed any battle he had ever been part of…but after several long minutes the internecine suddenly disappeared.

The weaponsfire between both sides was so intense that when Paul finally cut off most of the Trinx reinforcements, those inside the perimeter died off quite fast and had few left to replace them. That allowed the allied fleet to hammer those that were getting past Paul’s blocking tendrils, at which point the perimeter around the Zeus was temporarily secured and the trailblazer kept maneuvering drones every which way to harden that defense.

The Trinx hammered the outside of his lines trying to get in and did not relent. For hours to come they attacked, regardless of whether it looked like they were going to get to the Zeus, and both they and the allied fleet decimated one another. They tore each other apart with such frenzy and zeal that by the time the last few Trinx ships late getting to the party turned and ran to report back to their leaders what had happened here, there were few allied ships still alive. The Chamra, the Sety, the Dati, the Domu, the Jonstar, the Bpret, and the Breti…their immense fleets that had been tracking the Hamoriti from system to system and keeping its minions contained…were all but destroyed.

Paul relinquished as much responsibility for the fleet as he could, feeling his head hurt with the release as he took in the strategic picture without having to micromanage. The Zeus was buried at the heart of a massive debris field with half destroyed ships floating within it and stranding surviving crews. The few surviving allied ships were disorganized, moving around aimlessly or holding position not knowing what to do. Their command and control, what little of it had survived the chaos of the engagement, had been utterly destroyed.

Most of the Star Force drones were gone. Paul saw that only 8% remained operational and another 2% were responding to control signals but had most of their functionality missing. The jumpships, however, were mostly intact. Some badly damaged, and excluding those that had gone to interpose themselves around the Zeus, their crews were still alive and they still had engine power. The Excalibur was beat up as well, with some 60% of its weaponry offline and big chunks of the hull missing, but it was still combat capable though currently stuck inside a debris field that was going to take some time and some regenerated shields to work its way out through.

Rescue efforts were going to be a nightmare, so Paul laid down the operating rules and communicated that information to all the jumpship captains, then left his Admiral in charge of the overall effort before his head collapsed. Right before he released his link to the nexus he saw the Uriti still sitting where it had been told to, either oblivious to the combat or not caring. It was the reason for this carnage, yet it had been unaffected entirely. Neither side would go near it with their ships, leaving it perfectly pristine, and something about that just felt wrong.

With that final check, Paul disconnected and fell to the ground, cradling his head in his hands and trying to put himself into a regenerative mode with a combination of Sesspik and Haemra. The latter wasn’t all that effective on oneself when you couldn’t concentrate, but he was desperate now that the numbness of the effort was wearing off and the damage was asserting itself. This was beyond brain fried, and he had to trust in his crews, captains, and Archons to deal with the recovery effort and any defensive requirements going forward, because even if he wanted to reconnect he didn’t think he could, with thoughts of this being serious damage whispering in his mind as he pulled inside himself and went as inert as possible, hoping for his healing abilities to start eating into this nuking and pull him back into a semblance of order.

Riley rode a dropship over to one of the dead jumpships holding his damaged ship in place, all the while seeing out through the gaps at what looked like an asteroid field made up of destroyed ships. He couldn’t see stars through them, and the battlemap links were in and out given the line of sight restrictions. That said, he could see the three massive pieces that the jumpship ahead of him had been reduced to, each of which was held onto the others by the barest of structural linkages.

The dropship took him and a pair of Commandos up to the edge of what had used to be a hangar bay and nestled against the inner door. The entire hangar was gone, blown off the ship, so the three of them stepped off the ramp onto bits of floor that remained and floated to the inner hatch, finding a bit of gravity there that sucked them down to the deck.

The three of them worked to get a makeshift shield in place before Riley forced the door, only to find vacuum on the other side. They raced through, searching for the nearest contained area, and having to travel some 60 meters inward through four more closed doors before finding it. With additional atmosphere seals on them and hallway intersections, fresh air was pumped in and connected a pocket of living ship to what had once been the hangar.

From there it didn’t take long before Riley got to the minds he was sensing. They were in groups in different locations, the first of which were in a storage compartment working on opening up portable habitat modules. When Riley got to them he called them off the project and directed them to the waiting dropship as he continued to search the rest of this piece of the ship.

He found another group in an internal bunker, cut off from the living sections due to an atmospheric breach. Four more were in similar difficulties while a handful of others had survived in the areas that still had atmosphere and emergency power. Once he got them all off onto dropships he moved over to the other two pieces of ship and did likewise, evacuating about a third of the crew that had been onboard. The rest had died during or shortly after the fighting.

The survivors were brought back to the Zeus, wrecked as it was, but it was the most intact ship still in the fleet. Even the Excalibur was showing more damage, and the hull breaches in Riley’s command ship had atmospheric seals over top of them thanks to the Trinx, which he had replaced by his own techs with proper patches as one of the first orders of business…and there were many to follow. The battlefield was a disaster with surviving crews on both sides needing to be picked up and Star Force deliberately ignoring the Trinx vessels until all of their own and their allies were searched.

They weren’t going to let some of their own die in order to save those bastards.

That said, Riley had to talk down several of the other races vessels that were going around and toasting what remained of the Trinx. Some were doing so to eliminate lingering threats, for not all of their weaponry was knocked out, but others were just trying to kill their remaining crews or blast apart their ships out of vengeance when they should have been helping in the rescue efforts. Riley quickly got them back into line, for Star Force dominated the count in the survivor category, as well as being the ones who still controlled the Uriti.

And Riley was the only one left, aside from Paul, of the fleet representatives that had been conducting business with one another. All the others had been killed in combat, leaving him with lower ranking ship captains to deal with that badly needed guidance with their chain of command having been eliminated. Most immediately rallied around the Humans, for they were whom they were indebted to protect, with the others falling in line once Riley got what was left of the fleets actively hunting for survivors before any more of them died as their life support systems failed or their injuries bled them out.

Only the Yisv fleet hadn’t been touched, for it hadn’t been in the convoy due to the proximity with the Uriti. Where it was now Riley didn’t know, but they weren’t around to ask for help and the trailblazer needed every jumpship here to use as lifeboats for the survivors, unable to send a messenger out for assistance. Instead he dispatched a drone with a message, sending it on a slow journey from star to star to the nearest invasion zone.

Meanwhile he and the others waited, recovering crews and searching for more survivors while making what repairs they could. There were so many ships out there to search that they didn’t have a moment to spare, all the while knowing that the Trinx might return with more ships given that their worlds were far closer than any of the other 7 races, so sending one of their ships back for help made no sense whatsoever and the small number of ships left guarding Bahamut weren’t worth sending for in exchange for a badly needed recovery ship now.

When Riley slept he did so on a dropship. Eating there as well, while not returning to the Zeus for weeks straight as he searched the remains of the destroyed ships for survivors using his psionics, all of which he brought back to the Zeus or the nearest jumpship, or occasionally one of the largest Jonstar vessels that was partially intact. All the Humans went to Star Force ships, but the other surviving crews were mixed up considerably as people were sent to the nearest safe haven possible while the search teams went back out collecting what they hoped would be more living souls…while having to leave the bodies where they lay.

Riley lost track of the days as they passed, moving from one search mission to another, until he got a signal from a relief fleet made up of six Star Force jumpships that had been dispatched immediately from the invasion of the Karrach System. Their full load of drones immediately deployed and created a perimeter around the massive debris field as well as assisted with pushing operations to clear lanes for ships to move through and about more easily.

The jumpships launched flocks of dropships with more search crews and supplies, aiding in the recovery effort while giving Riley a bit of peace of mind concerning the Trinx showing up again. He’d hoped they’d committed everything they had to that assault, but there was no way to know for sure without having accurate numbers on their military, for which Star Force had none whatsoever, even with estimates given to them by The Nine.

The other major cause for concern was the Uriti, for it was holding position as ordered but no one knew how long it would continue to do so. The transmitter onboard the Zeus had been damaged in the attack, or rather the exterior components, and until they were rebuilt they had no way of contacting it. Leaving it the big wild card in the present situation above and beyond the Trinx.

And the last thing they needed was for it to head over to the debris field for a look at what happened…or to start eating the ships and their tantalizing corovon components.

Quenar

1

September 17, 3255

Andip System (lizard territory)

Stellar Orbit

When the Excalibur came out of its breaking run ahead of Nami, Paul was relieved to see some 284 Star Force jumpships waiting for them. Amongst them was the Sanguine Blade, as well as numerous cargo ships and a half dozen Ma’kri sitting well off the incoming jumpline in the face of Paul’s beaten up command ship and the equally wounded vessels coming in its wake along with a handful of fully operational escorts they’d picked up along the way from other assignments. Within a few seconds Jason’s hologram popped up in the command nexus.

“How are you holding up?” the blonde trailblazer asked.

“We lost a lot of people, and our new allies lost almost all of theirs. Have there been any other Trinx sightings?”

Jason shook his head. “I’ve got scouts out all along your projected path. None have reported so much as a single blip. I hope that means they’re out of ships after the beating you gave them.”

“It was mutual.”

“I assume you still have the Uriti?”

“It’s following us. Riley is bringing up the rear to make sure it doesn’t go AWOL. It did, briefly, after the battle when our transmitter was down. Stayed sitting in place for more than five days, then decided to take a dip in the star and stayed there until we got the leash working again.”

“Where are you with that?”

“We’ve got the original working, but with everything in the fleet busted up we haven’t had a chance to try and build a bigger one.”

“I sent for some parts before I came here. They’re on the way to Alamo and we can call to bring them up the line if you want.”

“Right now I just want to get Nami there. She may be a beast in battle, but she’s definitely a snail when it comes to speed. When the Chixzon planned to conquer the galaxy, they had to know it would take centuries to get from one end to the other.”

“Makes it all the more dramatic to see it coming, be able to take a lot of pictures, and know you can’t stop it when it does get there,” Jason pointed out. “At least the Hadarak aren’t much faster.”

“I’d take a little faster now with ample joy,” Paul said dryly. “Our escorts haven’t wanted to leave and they’re badly in need of supplies. The closest relief they have is the Bahamut site and they don’t want to risk abandoning it to the Trinx so they’re sticking it out with us. They’ve got too many people on too small of ships with all the rescues we pulled off.”

“Did you pick up any Trinx?”

“Not living ones. We couldn’t get to all of our survivors fast enough as it was.”

“I have a bad suggestion to make.”

“Make it,” Paul said, suddenly on guard for more bad news.

“The Neeyvir.”

When Paul frowned Jason pressed further.

“We know they have at least limited contact with The Nexus.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be…you’re right. It’s worth asking at least,” he said, adjusting the comms and calling the ranking commander within what was left of the Sety fleet that now consisted of only 6 ships. It took a while to get a response, long enough that Paul felt there might be a technological problem onboard their ship, but eventually the tree-like visage appeared next to Jason over top the control board in front of him.

“Yes, Archon. What is it that you require?”

“How close a relationship do the Sety have with the Neeyvir?”

“Limited. I only know of them because we were required to familiarize ourselves with this region prior to the Hamoriti assignment. There is diplomatic contact and isolated trade.”

“Trade?” Paul asked, wondering as to that. The Neeyvir were one of several holdout races within lizard territory…meaning that the Sety would have had to pass through it to get to them, or vice versa.

“High end technology is all my information said. Sporadic shipments.”

“My point is, could the Neeyvir be used as a relief port for your ships? Their nearest system is four jumps from here.”

“I’m afraid the only people qualified to answer that question died during the attack. But bringing the Hamoriti into an inhabited system of that caliber would not be wise. They could see it as a prelude to attack.”

“Do they know what a Uriti is?”

“I do not know.”

“Regardless, I wasn’t suggesting to take it there. I meant for your ships to break off from the escort now that we’ve received reinforcements.”

“As long as we are mobile, we will not abandon our duty,” the Sety said firmly.

“The Uriti is moving so slow you can stop by the Neeyvir, get whatever relief they can offer, then catch up to us in short order. We’re months from our destination system. Do you have the logistical longevity to last that long?”

“My ship does not. I do not know about the others.”

“I don’t know if the Neeyvir will assist you or not, but there aren’t many choices right now. We’ve got supplies to share, but all of The Nine have differing repair needs and we do not have a shipyard near here. Unless you want to travel a long ways to one of ours, returning to The Nexus is your only other option. Do you concur?”

“The Yisv may offer another option if we can contact them.”

“They won’t enter the same system a Uriti is in,” Paul reminded him. “Whatever help they can offer will mean you still have to break from the convoy. At this point, now that my reinforcements have arrived, there isn’t much your remaining ships can do to assist in a fight given their current status. Repair and resupply must take priority else the long term security of this mission could be jeopardized.”

“I cannot fault your reasoning, but I cannot guarantee the reaction of the Neeyvir.”

“I will accompany you there. We’re going to run into the Neeyvir eventually anyway, so I might as well make an introduction.”

“Your presence is required to safeguard the control ship,” the Sety said earnestly.

“One of my peers has arrived. He will take over security in my absence. Regardless, my command ship is heading back to a shipyard for repairs. I’ll transfer to one of the newly arrived warships so I can stay in the region while our damaged ships are cycled back. Yours need to do the same.”

“Very well. The Sety will go to the Neeyvir, but I can make no promise as to their willingness to help.”

“I’ll dispatch a courier to the Yisv and inform them of our departure from the convoy. That way they’ll be able to rendezvous there and offer whatever assistance they can.”

“Acceptable.”

“Make preparations to leave after the Uriti exits this system. Inform the others of The Nine of the logistical reality and of the timetable. If they’re not convinced as to its wisdom, tell them to contact me.”

“I will spread the word, Archon. Thank you for your assistance.”

Paul nodded and the hologram cut out, leaving him with Jason.

“You’re leaving the Excalibur?”

“She’s a broken sword right now, but she’s still far faster than Nami. Assuming you’re going to stick around, I want to send all the damaged ships back to start repairs.”

“I’ll take it from here,” Jason promised. “But the Zeus has to stay.”

“I know, but there’s no reason to keep the others here. We’re just well armored target practice right now, sorry to say.”

“Did you have to leave any ships behind that we need to recover?”

“Not whole ones, but there’s a lot of salvage to be done. That’s low priority, but we need at least a Ma’kri on the site to keep scavengers away. There’s a large sample of advanced tech floating out there that I’d rather the lizards didn’t get their hands on.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Before we do?”

Paul smiled. “They’re not going to be picking it up anytime soon.”

“I’ll get three Ma’kri there immediately, then send another back to pull a recycling team off the front line. We should be able to get a collection crew there within a handful of months.”

“Good. I’m going to go meet the neighbors and will meet back up with you somewhere along the line.”

“What do you want to do about the Trinx?” Jason asked ominously.

Paul’s eyes hardened. “There’s a reckoning to be had.”

“Obviously. What do you have in mind?”

“Keep them on ice for now. If we go after them it’s going to suck a lot more resources away from the lizard campaign. I don’t want more planets dying because we took our time eradicating those buggers. The Trinx can wait, unless The Nine get to them first. I don’t think they’re going to take this betrayal well.”

“Do you want to coordinate with them on the ass kicking?”

“Possibly. But we need to figure out what to do with the Uriti they’re sitting on first. And to solve that riddle we need to learn to talk to this one and figure out if Nami is as nice as her namesake or the big obtuse hunk of rock she looks like.”

“But bottom line, the Trinx lose their sovereignty?”

“In some form, yes. We’re not tolerating them as neighbors.”

“Agreed,” Jason said as his ship’s sensors picked up the Uriti coming into stellar orbit. “Damn, she’s…small.”

“Small?”

“Compared to the ship I’m sitting in, yeah.”

“Apparently her mind is not. Have a chat with Riley about that and see if you can’t brainstorm a solution I’ve missed.”

“What’s the challenge?”

“Finding a way to make a Uriti pay attention to the ants it can so easily step on.”

“We’re in ships bigger than she is, so it shouldn’t be hard to get noticed.”

“Telepathically it’s a different show. Our ships probably look like rocks to her without the aura.”

“How’s our resident Chixzon doing?”

“Complaining about lack of adequate parts.”

“Should I try building a new transmitter on the Sanguine Blade?”

“Do you have enough resources to spare?”

“Depends what it will take.”

“Then the answer is probably no to the big one, but having a redundancy for the small one is worth tinkering with. Even if you can only half build one, it’ll save precious time if the primary goes offline.”

“Offline?”

“If Riley gets his ship blown up.”

“With Nefron on it?”

“He’s smart enough to get out first,” Paul said deadpan.

“He’d have to build it, I assume. Will he leave the Zeus?”

“If it’s during jump he might. Gets really boring and even if you talk to the Uriti it can’t do much of anything, so he doesn’t need to be there.”

“Nice to have a hobby. How often does Nami need to stop and eat?”

“The hungrier she gets the less likely she is to obey, so we’ve been having her take a dip in the star every 3 stops.”

“No planets?”

“Not yet. The stores she gets from them don’t deplenish very rapidly. It’s mainly her energy reserves that need a boost.”

“Alright. Where’s she headed now?”

“Into a preordered orbit. She’ll get the redirect once the Zeus gets here.”

“Safe range?”

“I’ve been keeping it at 1000 miles minimum.”

“Any sneezes?”

“Not yet. She’s been a good girl so far. Even sat still and watched us while we fought.”

“Good to know she’s not temperamental, now that I’m babysitting for you.”

“Riley is babysitting Nami, you’re babysitting Riley. I hope the Trinx don’t have anything else to throw at us, but I’m not counting on it.”

“I’ll make them pay if they try it. Which ship do you want?”

Paul mentally looked through the list via the nexus in less than a second.

“The Jasper,” he said, selecting one of the Protovic ships in the mixed fleet. It was the oldest model, a Mk.6, but it was still fast enough to carry him around the region while Nami crawled on.

“All yours. But before you transfer over stop by my command ship. There are a few things we need to discuss at length. I assume you’ve got at least a few hours before Nami moves on?”

“That we do. I’ll be right over,” he said, cutting the comm and walking out of the nexus and onto the main bridge.

“Admiral, the ship is yours. You’ll be taking it and the other damaged ships back home for repair. I’ll be staying in the region on the Jasper.” Paul glanced at the ceiling. “Get her fixed up good. I’d like to keep this one if at all possible.”

A day later and Paul watched Nami leave the system with her escort ships, leaving his one spotless warship with the broken fleet that was all that remained of The Nine. He rallied them to a different jumppoint and accelerated away at the best speed the slowest of them could handle, headed for the not too distant territory of a race that had withstood the lizards’ expansion while hanging on to some 27 systems spread out in shotgun fashion. The interconnecting ones had been swallowed up by the lizards, but apparently the Neeyvir went where they liked and hadn’t seriously been endangered by the occupation of the surrounding systems.

Paul had misgivings about that. Turtling up was one thing, but he didn’t care for the idea of sitting it out while watching neighbor after neighbor fall to a civilization that you could have kicked to the curb without even making a full effort. He didn’t know the history of the Neeyvir, but given their not too distant location from Krachnika he assumed the lizards had gotten to them during the second or third major phase of their expansion, which was well before they’d come into conflict with the H’kar.

But then again, not everyone was a warrior. Were these guys sitting out the war because they were snobs or because they were just keeping their heads down and tending to their own? They weren’t isolationists, that much had been determined from the Shanplenix, not to mention their link with The Nexus, but that didn’t mean they also couldn’t have had an agreement with the lizards. Thrawn had never spoke of such a thing, but both he and Paul now knew that the templars kept much from the masterminds.

Paul didn’t think that with the already established diplomatic relations to The Nexus that they’d come under attack upon arrival, but he wasn’t sure what kind of a reception they’d get or what assistance they could offer that would be compatible with what The Nine’s ships needed. At the very least it would be a rendezvous point that the Yisv could access. He was guessing that their vulnerability to the Uriti’s aura was being overhyped, but he didn’t fault them for being cautious. He had a lot more safeguards in place than they did, so it was hard to tell just how fragile their telepathy was without ever having met one in person.

It took some 18 days to reach the Neeyvir system, with them braking in at a respectable distance from the giant white star that held some 9 major planets in its gravitational pull, but they didn’t have to travel to any of those to attract attention, for as soon as they arrived they were met by patrol ships. They were shaped with a helmet-like forward face that trailed off into what looked like tendrils hanging behind it. They had luminous lines across the face and the hull was colored a pale purple, giving the ships an aggressive persona despite the fact that they only massed about that of a cruiser and were no longer than 1200 meters, tendrils included.

Paul used a Sety translation program rather than their own they’d cobbled together from bits and pieces of language references from other races that had had dealings with them in the past, figuring it would be more up to date and professional given their reputation, but he chose to directly address them rather than having the Sety ships do it.

There was only a single Star Force vessel with the fleet, but it was the largest ship and the only one without battle damage. Beyond that, Paul was in command and felt that these other races were his wards after what had transpired, despite the fact that they were just as advanced, perhaps more so in some cases, than the Humans were.

“Attention Neeyvir, I am Archon Paul-024 of Star Force. As you are probably aware, our warfleets are gradually pushing back the Li’vorkrachnika and reclaiming the territory that they have stolen from others. Though we have not reached your borders yet it will happen eventually and we had intended on making contact before that occurred to establish formal relations. The current situation has hastened that necessity, for we and our allies have just survived a massive battle with the Trinx. We were the marginal victors, but the Sety and others do not have any region bases from which to resupply or make repairs and Star Force facilities are also a great distance from here.”

“We have come here asking for aid and a port of harbor so that these ships can begin repairing damage and making arrangements with their far flung civilizations for permanent relief. We do not expect the Trinx to follow us here. The target they sought is moving on and their warfleet has been destroyed. What reserves they have we do not know, and we are not asking for protection against them if they should come. We are only asking for what material aid you can offer, or at the very least the ability to use this system as a waypoint while other allies are rallied to us.”

“While we are here, I would like to have a lengthy conversation concerning the Li’vorkrachnika and the future of this region if you are willing. We will hold to stellar orbit while we await your response.”

2

January 3, 3256

Ashbay System (Occupation Zone)

Stellar Orbit

Jason’s command ship came out of its jump into a clear stellar orbit, finally having made it out of lizard territory. He immediately picked up battlemap signals coming from the few assets that Star Force had in the captured system. There were several warships with drones guarding a single planet where fighting had recently ended and the recycling crews were hard at work picking up all the trash and beginning the process of erasing the lizards’ stench from the world. This was hardly civilization, but it was Star Force territory.

The Trinx hadn’t shown themselves since the big battle, but the convoy had picked up some hitchhikers from at least three other races. They were staying well away from both the Uriti and its defenders, but they were pacing behind the convoy at a respectful distance watching what was going on.

He didn’t know what that meant. Maybe these other races, none of which they could identify, had heard about the spectacle. Paul hadn’t returned yet, and it was unlikely that he’d spread word of it in time for outsiders to get here, so it was curious to Jason how they’d known about the Uriti. Perhaps one or more of The Nine had leaked word of it beyond lizard territory, but none of the ships accompanying them had claimed knowledge of who these new ships belonged to. Jason didn’t know if he believed them or not, for the leak had to have come from somewhere, but it was possible that these ship captains had no idea who these races were while their leaders did.

None of them had responded to comms, but given that they were keeping so far back Jason hadn’t gone after them. If they’d gotten closer he would have, but for the time being getting the Uriti back to Star Force territory was the priority and he’d finally accomplished that. It wasn’t the Uriti’s ultimate destination, they still had a ways to go to get to the Alamo System, but it was time for Jason to get a little more insistent that these trailing ships identify themselves.

As the battlemap signals caught up from the lag Jason saw that there was a much larger fleet on the other side of the star, just having come out of its own jump. It was a Calavari fleet of warships, 19 in total, and Jason assumed they were reinforcements being sent to help them, though at the moment he couldn’t communicate to make sure until the lag bounces made their way across the system and back to get to the other side of the star or one or both fleets moved around to talk to each other directly.

The mass of ships following Jason out of the jump drifted aside to make way for the Uriti that followed 27 minutes later. By that time the Calavari had orbited around into line of sight and they confirmed they were here to add extra security, as well as give a warning. Unidentified ships had been seen passing through the Occupation Zone over the past 2 months, heading in this general direction, but passing in and out of Star Force systems only occasionally. Even within the Occupation Zone there were more uninhabited systems than previously lizard held ones that ships could jump through, and unlike the ADZ, those systems didn’t yet have reconnaissance equipment to keep track of who came and went, meaning there were a lot of ‘dark’ areas ships could pass through.

Meaning they could be right on their doorstep and Jason wouldn’t know it until they were here. The numbers the Calavari intel suggested were low. Individual or pairs of ships only, no fleets. That suggested they weren’t coming to fight, but someone had obviously got the word out and Jason felt that he was about to be the center of attention in a very unwanted way.

“Do you recognize any of these ship profiles?” he asked the floating ball beside him.

“I do not,” the Oracle said, “but their interest in the Hamoriti cannot be coincidence. They must be races that have prior knowledge, possibly dating back to the war.”

“Then why wouldn’t you recognize them?” Jason asked Paul’s parting gift. His fellow trailblazer had made a copy of the Oracle program for himself, then when he was forced to leave the Excalibur had given it to Jason so he’d have an expert on the Uriti with him for those times when the Zeus wasn’t in contact range.

“Developmental changes perhaps. Or it simply could be a fact of attrition. The original races could have been destroyed and their knowledge passed onto others.”

“Possible,” Jason granted. “So what do you speculate these ships would want with the Uriti if they were acting off of knowledge obtained from others?”

“Either to seek control of it or to deny you the same.”

“We haven’t picked up any fleets heading this way yet.”

“Scouts then. To confirm the reports. Do not assume warfleets will not follow.”

“You sound sure of that.”

“My programing indicates that such a response was expected. It was one reason why the Hamoriti had to be kept hidden. Let the galaxy know you hold the weapon at a specific place and they will get illusions of their ability to steal it from you. Keep its location anonymous and they can do no such plotting.”

“So they might be here to make sure we don’t move it where they can’t track it?”

“Most likely.”

“How did the Ancients move them when they were sedated?”

“Moving such a mass when dormant has its challenges, but it essentially comes down to a question of cargo. Moving a conscious one is another matter entirely.”

“Meaning if it was sleeping we could hook it up to a jump cradle and save this long trip.”

“Exactly. The Ancients acquired the Hamoriti after they were sedate. There were still considerations given its latent aura, but they pose no other special requirements. Can I assume you do not have the ability to order it to sleep?”

“I doubt it.”

“And sedation is out of the question?”

“Also true.”

“Then there is no other course of action beyond accepting this slow journey.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

The Oracle twisted its spherical body around to look more squarely at Jason with its one mechanical eye. “You instructed me to state all relevant matters.”

A comm from the recently arrived Zeus interrupted him, with an image of Riley popping up in front of Jason. “I see we picked up some more ships.”

“That we did, along with reports of more unidentified ships heading our way.”

The trailblazer’s hologram frowned. “A lot?”

“A lot of stragglers. None have shown up here yet.”

“There must be some information network in place that we’re unaware of. This is too much common knowledge for such a short span of time.”

“Agreed. Now that we’re back inside our territory, I’m going to lag behind and have a chat with those ships following us. I’ll catch up later.”

“You, or you and the fleet?”

“Just my command ship. The rest, including the Calavari, go ahead of Nami as usual. I’ll leave Brayden in charge.”

“What if they don’t feel like talking?”

“Then we get to see how fast their ships are.”

Riley smiled. “Have fun. We’re blowing through this system, so if you wait here you might be able to intercept them on arrival. If they know our pattern, they’ll know they have to get here quickly to see which jumpline we take out.”

“Good idea. I got the rear. Move along.”

“Moving,” Riley echoed, cutting the comm line.

“You seek a confrontation?” the Oracle asked.

“More like a greeting,” he said, adjusting the commands to the fleet and his bridge with a few thoughts. “But I intend to get a response this time.”

Jason watched the Zeus move around the curve of the star and out of sight as the Sanguine Blade picked up small amount of arrival deflection, the super-accelerated light coming off the star and hitting the approaching ships, picking up their speed and sending it back into the system faster than naturally possible. It was a very small amount, but enough to give him a heads up that they were coming about 20 seconds before they otherwise showed up on sensors.

Or rather the first ship. It was long and spiked with cross bars, a design that Jason had gotten used to seeing in their wake. It came to a halt only 3,281 kilometers away from the command ship, with Jason immediately signaling to it.

“Attention unidentified vessel. You are now within Star Force-controlled territory. Identify yourself.”

It didn’t respond before the second ship arrived, nor when the third got there less than a minute later. Jason didn’t know if that was because they couldn’t understand the message, which he’d transmitted with copies in every known language, or if they were just ignoring him, but none of the ships moved past their braking position. They held at the jumppoint, staring down the command ship, until the third ship finally responded with a text message written in Ancient.

We are monitoring the path of the Hamoriti.

That was something, but it wasn’t an identification.

“Identify yourselves,” Jason repeated, then waited for a response as the first ship suddenly took off.

With a though, the Sanguine Blade went after it. Accelerating for all it was worth around the star at a bad angle but keeping up with the ship as it raced around the curve of the gravity well to get into sight of the convoy just prior to it jumping out. With it now under sensor surveillance as the Uriti approached the outgoing jumppoint with the Zeus trailing behind it, the unidentified ship decelerated and let the command ship catch up to it gently, with Jason coming within 20 kilometers and letting the mass of his ship dwarf the 1300 meter destroyer analog that was apparently content with having identified the outgoing jumpline.

Jason eased the ship closer and closer, with it still not responding to comms as the other two caught up and joined the pair. When Jason got within range he activated the IDF field and pinned the ship in place, cutting off its gravity drives from their source of pull and trapping it within weapons range.

“Identify yourself,” Jason repeated. “You obviously want to know where they’re heading and now you do, but you’re not going anywhere until I get some answers, so start talking.”

But the first ship still sat silent, not opening up so much as a peep of communication as the third ship decided to respond again.

We are watchers sent from afar to monitor the Hamoriti.

“Who specifically?”

There was a short delay, but a response was forthcoming.

We are commissioned.

“By whom?”

A distant consortium that wishes to remain anonymous. We are tasked with data collection. We intend nothing more than passage through your territory to see where the Hamoriti goes and what it does.

“What is your origination point?”

A map in the form of the Ancients measurements popped up with an area indicated in the Orion arm anti-spinward and opposite the border with the Preema…except that the location specified was some 14,000 lightyears away and well beyond the region Star Force had explored to date.

“How did you get here so quickly? How were you informed of the Hamoriti’s movement?”

It has been under watch for some time. When your ability to control it was witnessed, word was sent out to many. The other two ships here are not with us. We watch passively and do not interfere with one another.

“I have been told more ships are heading this way. Are they also watchers?”

Many will come to verify the stories.

“And after they see that it is true?”

Unknown. We were tasked with data collection. We do not know the plans of those who employ us.

“And what will you do if I do not allow you to proceed further into Star Force territory?”

We mean no offense, but you do not have the ability to stop ships on the periphery. We did not expect you to be at the jumppoint when we arrived. Next time we will make accommodations so you will not make contact again.

“I have no issue with you passing through our territory so long as you do not interfere with anything or anyone in them, but there may come a time when we prevent you from going any further. Do you speak for the other two ships?”

We agree to only observe. We do not speak for the other ships.

“Do you know why they have been silent?”

We cannot speak for them.

“Identify yourselves so that we can log your ship profile into our systems.”

We are the Neshmiraken. An independent organization unaffiliated with any system or race.

“So noted. You have permission to proceed and watch from afar until otherwise stated. Do you know the identity of the other two vessels?”

One is the Scmat Confederation. The other is the Partrel.

“Do they also know the Ancient language?”

They do.

“Thank you. Is there anything else you would like to inquire about?”

Can you truly control the Hamoriti?

“We can direct it. The limits of that direction are not being tested at present, but we have succeeded in stopping its rampages.”

Be warned. Such knowledge will bring many others to you. For good or ill. We will proceed in the shadows from here on.

“Thanks for the warning,” Jason said, already getting that feeling but having it sink in even deeper as these newcomers confirmed it. He attempted to contact the other two ships again with no response. The pinned one stayed where he had it in its grasp, but the other was parked nearby and didn’t move of its own choice until the Uriti jumped out. When the Zeus followed, the ship zipped off at high speed along with the Neshmiraken.

Oddly enough, the trapped vessel began moving too. Not nearly as fast, but it motored away from the Sanguine Blade then made a microjump out of range as soon as it passed through the boundary of the IDF, leaving Jason’s jaw hanging open.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, reviewing sensor scans as he moved the command ship to follow them to the jumppoint. It didn’t take long to narrow down the possibilities, but in the end he didn’t have a confirmed answer, though his gut told him enough. These guys had a secondary engine system, and he was all but sure it was a mag drive.

Magnetic propulsion was extremely erratic for making jumps, which was why The Nexus had to build gigantic artificial emitters to provide a stable platform to jump off of rather than the unpredictable magnetic fields of a star…but one could use those fields in a low power setting to move around orbit where pinpoint accuracy wasn’t needed. The IDF field was designed to screen gravity, but it didn’t stop incoming objects nor did it interfere with magnetic fields. These guys had just sat inside Jason’s trap knowing it couldn’t hold them, then jetting off as soon as they felt like it.

That told him one thing…these guys were here on business and they didn’t feel like taking orders from someone as weak as Star Force tech apparently was compared to theirs. Maybe they didn’t have full knowledge of what his ship could do, for he could have had a magnetic drive put into the Sanguine Blade if he wished, but there was no reason to do so in place of the…

Suddenly he wondered if there was another reason they would have two different engine systems. Having a thrust based backup was understandable, and a lot of older Star Force ships still had emergency thrusters to make small course changes if the gravity drives went down, but his command ship was so big and fat that the thrust required to move it around even a little bit would have required an enormous amount of fuel that just didn’t make economical sense.

Now, a mag drive was another matter entirely, but so long as your gravity drives was functioning why have an alternate that had far less range of operation? It could only work in the presence of magnetic fields, meaning some planets wouldn’t provide propulsion and the workable band around a star was very narrow compared to the feasible grav jump range.

One answer would be that there were other transit systems out there similar to what The Nexus had built and these ships could utilize them on their own without having to hitch a ride on a jumpship. But the thought that there might be something else, another reason he wasn’t aware of, scared him even more. Maybe some enemy used IDF as a weapon and these ships had been built to counter it? Or maybe they had some form of propulsion that was unlike anything he’d read about in the V’kit’no’sat database…though to be fair, he hadn’t exactly memorized the whole thing.

A chill ran down his spine with the knowledge that whoever had been watching the Uriti, whether it be one of The Nine that had informed others or some hidden watcher, had sent word out to a lot of extremely advanced races across at least this portion of the galaxy that had the engine power to get here this quickly. A tech level of that height meant equal to or superior to Star Force’s current level of technology.

And that meant something big was going to go down. They probably had some time, hopefully enough to get Nami to Alamo, but whatever it was that these other races wanted with the Hamoriti was going to come to a head. Hopefully it wouldn’t mean another fight, but Star Force was going to have to get ready for this, no matter what happened.

To that end Jason entered the jump for the destination system at full speed, accelerating up as fast as his ship could go within the system then drifting off the jumpline to pass by the convoy and the Uriti while sending Riley a message as he passed telling him what was going down and that Jason was racing back to the ADZ to rally the troops and inform Davis…

3

May 19, 3256

Alamo System

Stellar Orbit

Paul’s warship came out of the deceleration jump along with the rest of the escort fleet that he’d rejoined previously, seeing that there were far more Star Force ships waiting for them around the smaller of the two stars in the binary system than were arriving. That gave him a sense of relief, not to mention the pair of Voku conglomerates holding a slightly higher orbit nearby, and when the signal lag finally caught up he discovered that Avery-040 was also insystem, but no Jason.

Before his fellow trailblazer could contact him, he got a signal from one of the Voku conglomerates which resulted in an image of Cal-com appearing over the nexus control board.

“You arrive at last. Is the Uriti trailing you?”

“It is. We have the control ship and a few others trailing it to make sure it doesn’t go somewhere else.”

“Has that been an issue?”

“Not yet, no. But as you’ll see soon enough, we’ve got 8 ships following us at a distance that are unknown to me. A few have identified themselves, and all seem to be from very far away. Watchers monitoring the Uriti. I get the feeling many more are going to be coming, and perhaps to do more than just watch.”

Cal-com nodded gravely. “It was wise you sought my assistance. I have other assets in the immediate area on assignments. I will recall them here immediately. How far behind does the Uriti trail?”

“About 28 minutes back. I’d recommend keeping a safe distance at all times. We’ve had no incidents, but we haven’t approached it too close either.”

“I understand. I am eager to set eyes on this beast. If others are the same, then we must establish a policy for this system.”

“Keeping the watchers out is going to be difficult, so I’m going to let them pass through and look if they want. If they do more than that we’ll have to act. Be warned, their tech level is extremely high. Possibly even beyond yours or mine.”

“That is disturbing. How long have they been observing?”

“I would guess some time since this Uriti broke free of its containment. There hasn’t been enough time for word of our actions to spread unless someone already watching took notice.”

“Logical. What are your immediately plans?”

“We’re going to tell Nami to take a dip in one of the stars and recharge, then we’re going to keep her here surrounded by warships as we try and find a way to talk to her. So far all we know is that we need a bigger transmitter. We’d started building one before the attack and haven’t had time to begin fabrication on another with the damage to the Zeus eating up available resources for repair. Even then, we’re going to need some specialized components that we can’t easily make in the field.”

“Do you require assistance?”

“We’re keeping the Chixzon tech a closely guarded secret, my friend. I would guess that may be the reason why we’re getting so many prying eyes.”

“They would have to know of it.”

“I don’t know how much word has leaked out through The Nine. I’m simply preparing for more trouble.”

“My condolences on your losses. I reviewed the battle. Your forces fought remarkably well to deny the Trinx the claim or destruction of your key vessel.”

“It never should have happened in the first place. The Trinx were supposed to safeguard the Uriti while looking for a solution to the containment problem, not try and destroy that solution when it presented itself.”

“They fear your control of the beast.”

“And I’m assuming others will as well. Jason went back to the ADZ to get more reinforcements.”

“What of the other Uriti still imprisoned?”

“The newest site is weak, but without our ability to issue the Uriti orders there is no rational reason to try and release it. Others may claim it in order to blackmail us against their release of it, so we have to help The Nine secure it.”

“Shall I send a conglomerate there now?”

Paul shook his head. “This is the danger zone, and I’d prefer having as many of your troops here as possible. There should already be a defense fleet there, but if we get into long term strategic maneuvering on the part of these shadow observers we may need to fortify that system.”

“I understand. You will not be bringing it here?”

“That’s option number 2.”

“Preferred?”

“Depends whether or not we can talk to them and come to terms.”

“I also have a message for you from the Preema. They want to discuss recent events and have a ship nearby. They did not want to be waiting here when you arrived.”

“Did they say why?”

“They wanted a quiet conversation. Beyond that they would not say anything, nor would they send a ship directly to you.”

“Did they want us to come to them?”

“No. I believe they are being overly formal and do not want to intrude where not welcome.”

“I do wish to speak with them. Tell them to come here and I will hear them out.”

“I’ll send a messenger immediately. As for the favor you requested, that message was also sent.”

“Thank you. Now, tell me if any of these ship profiles are familiar,” Paul said, sending him files on the ships that had been trailing them.

Cal-com took his time analyzing them, but in the end he only could identify one.

“The Corbrini. We have diplomatic contact with them, at the most basic level. They are truly distant from here. I am surprised they would…” he cut off as the Uriti slowed to a halt at the jumppoint.

“Little thing, isn’t it?” Paul scoffed.

“Perhaps,” the Voku offered, his tone indicating that he was thoroughly impressed. “But to see a being that can travel the stars without need of a ship is a rarity in this galaxy.”

“Not so much if you head further into the core.”

“Where is it going?”

“To a holding orbit designated prior to the jump. It’ll wait there until the control ship arrives and gives it orders.”

“We are detecting strong telepathic emissions.”

“Yes. Are they a problem for you?”

“Not at these levels, but our equipment is designed to detect them should they become perilous.”

“Some other threat out there I should know about?”

“A few,” Cal-com admitted. “Have you had issue with the Uriti’s aura?”

“Only at extreme close range. Riley tested it and got quite the headache, but he was able to touch another one as it slept. The aura amps up considerably when they’re awake.”

“And you said there are many such Uriti imprisoned across the galaxy?”

“We think so. We know of only a handful at the moment, and have personally laid eyes upon only the two.”

“Combat capability?”

“If we are close enough it could destroy every ship present here, but for a starship it’s dead slow and not a threat if you keep on your toes. A planet, however…”

“An impressive weapon indeed. Where would you like our ships positioned?”

“Somewhere they can be seen and close enough to respond to trouble if it arises.”

The Voku nodded. “If distant empires have been monitoring this Uriti from afar, they will undoubtable come here when they realize it is the final destination point. We have much to prepare for, my friend. This is…

I must speak with you privately, a voice pounded inside Paul’s head so hard that he couldn’t even hear Cal-com. He squinted and the Voku stopped speaking, sensing something was wrong. The Archon held up a wait finger as he tried to trace the telepathic presence.

Zak’de’ron? Paul asked back along the still active tendril.

Yes, we are here. Hidden. We must remain so, but it is imperative that we speak.

Where and how?

Open your main hangar.

Paul raised an eyebrow. Your stealth tech must be very good if you’re that close by.

We will remain hidden until you close the doors behind us. Our mental proximity you will be able to trace.

I understand. 20 minutes?

Satisfactory.

The presence in his mind disappeared and he blinked away the pressure he’d felt, now very glad he had an Ikrid block in place.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he told Cal-com. “Your boss is here and wants to speak privately.”

He saw the Voku flinch, but no other reaction followed. “I will be available when you wish to speak again, via com or in person, whichever you choose,” he said, cutting off the signal so the Human could attend to the summons.

Paul walked out of the nexus and onto the bridge, catching the Captain’s eye.

“Clear and evacuate the main hangar in the next 15 minutes, then open the outer doors. We have a hidden ship coming onboard. When I give the signal close them again and wait for further orders. Keep everyone else away from the hangar.”

The Captain snapped her fingers and her bridge offers got to work executing his order. “Trouble?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said honestly.

“And you can’t tell me who it is that’s coming onboard?”

“Dragons,” he said simply, walking away as her eyes widened.

Paul stood at the back of the hangar, which had been cleared of ships and cargo by pushing them over to the side and leaving the entry point in front of the massive bay doors clear as he waited and felt outward with his telepathy. It was past 20 minutes by a hair, but he didn’t sense anything coming as a shimmer crossed through the containment shield and the complex light that was coming from the floor, walls, and ceiling got bent in ways it wasn’t meant to.

Still he could feel nothing, then when the mass landed just inside the entrance a powerful mind manifested itself, making it clear to Paul that it could decide when and where it was felt. He had the same ability as well, Kgat, though he couldn’t be sure if the Dragons had it or if the ship itself was built to conceal their ability.

“Close the doors,” Paul said into his comm, then turned it off as he waited for the armor plates to slide over the starfield and have their image wrinkled through the ship’s camouflage. It was reassuring that not even the Zak’de’ron could produce a fully functional cloaking device, though for mimicking starlight it would do more than adequately, meaning that if it also absorbed all sensor signals like the Ma’kri did, there was almost no way to detect it moving through space.

Passing through atmosphere or a nebula was another matter, but with this configuration you could snoop around just about wherever you wanted if you were careful, and they’d successfully gotten up within telepathic range without Star Force’s sensors even picking up a blip of signal.

When the doors fully closed the camouflage faded away, revealing a compact, but rippling hull full of undulations and ornate markings. It looked more or less like a turbine hat, with no visible weapons or other equipment that had to have been concealed beneath armor plates. Given the transformable tech that V’kit’no’sat had, he didn’t imagine it was difficult to sculpt a hull such as this to conceal whatever you liked beneath layers of protection.

Yet one more area Star Force had to catch up to them in, navally speaking.

As he watched, part of the hull melted away and turned into a ramp from which a red dragon walked out, followed by a yellow one of about equal size, barely larger than a horse but with a much longer tail and its wings tucked in at its sides so you almost didn’t know they were there. Following them came a much larger one the size of a house and colored deep grey, with Paul fairly sure this was the same one he’d seen before on Earth.

“Cu sen’a dench mit harmen asc,” the big one said, speaking in V’kit’no’sat. “What you have brought here is immensely dangerous.”

“I assume you were not previously aware of their existence,” Paul replied in kind as the two smaller dragons walked around to flank him on either side. He gave the red one on his right a glance, then looked back up at the big one in front of him as it sat on its hind legs with its tail looped around on the floor in a somewhat odd position, making it look far less intimidating than normal.

“We were not, but these Chixzon your message spoke of explain several unanswered questions in our history. We have never known of anyone to co-opt a Hadarak, nor to rework their biology to their advantage. The one here is small, but it is immensely dangerous even without the upgrades you detailed.”

“I’m well aware. What do you know of the races it is drawing to it?”

“Little. Our presence in the galaxy is still small. There is much happening that we are unaware of, and the entire history of these Uriti is beyond our knowledge. Where is this Chixzon you spoke of?”

“On the control ship. His loyal is not in question.”

“How were you able to override the genetic rewriting?”

“We helped him break free from within.”

“Then his loyalty should be in question.”

Paul shook his head. “He can’t shield his thoughts from us. We’re certain that he is the original and not the upgrade…though he’s chosen to maintain his current state to give us the knowledge and capabilities of the Chixzon.”

“A perilous link if you are unable to produce more loyal Chixzon…or have you found a way to circumvent their control restrictions?”

“Working on it, but through a different route. Have you or the V’kit’no’sat ever tried to talk to the Hadarak?”

“Their instinctual drive is too strong to overcome. They ignore all communication.”

“But an attempt was made?”

“To further study them, yes. A failed attempt.”

“What size of a transmitter did you use?”

The Dragon looked at him oddly. “You seek a different path and inquire as to our past efforts to validate something that was not tried.”

“Pretty much. The telepathic signals from the Chixzon have to be amplified and produced in a very specific way for the Uriti to take notice. All other forms are ignored. But the Uriti can talk to each other, and there is evidence that they can call to one another over great distances. We speculate that it may simply be a matter of making our telepathic voice strong enough to mimic another Uriti before it will take notice of us. So I am asking, did you ever produce a telepathic aura of a size comparable to a Hadarak?”

“I am uncertain. My knowledge of such things is limited. A check through our database may yield the results you seek, but I do know that no success was had in attempted communication or any form of negotiation. The Hadarak expand relentlessly and without pause unless restricted.”

“About that. Why didn’t they consume the galaxy before you were there to stop them? The Chixzon knew of them and kept clear of the inner galaxy. It seemed they rarely came further out. When you say they expand relentlessly, I think there should be a qualifier there.”

“It is true that they do not seek to expand to every system. They choose those that have deeper gravity to spawn within, but they can consume any that have the resources they need.”

“If they only spawn in the core, why can they not spread across the entire galaxy? If there was nothing keeping them in check before, are there not patterns to their expansion?”

“Such things have been asked before, though we did not have a historical record as far back as these Chixzon date. Perhaps it was wrongly assumed that they had spread as far as they had been able when they were holding to a pattern of some making…though it is confirmed that they were expanding. Perhaps a cyclical event or another factor was involved. Regardless, they do not hold to any boundaries that we or the traitors have detected. I have seen nothing to suggest otherwise in recent years.”

“How often do they travel alone?”

“Rarely. Why there was an isolated one for the Chixzon to capture is beyond my knowledge. They travel in packs and are very difficult to kill because they assist one another. That is not an issue here with this single Uriti, but the minions it can produce are. I would not recommend experimenting with them, even if this Chixzon claims to be able to give them commands.”

“He tells me the original minions were people. Is that true?”

“How do you define people?”

“Did they have a will of their own?”

“They are more than biological machines, but the distinction is small. They serve and obey the Hadarak from more than choice. It is bred into them.”

“The Chixzon claim they stripped them of this, utilizing only their bodies and minds and preventing any true reproduction. They altered the minions from people into biological machines so there could be no chance of disobedience.”

“What other alterations did they make?”

“Many, to both the Uriti and the minions. Each is unique, both a production model and a prototype. More recent versions are more advanced and better able to control. I’m told the same is true of the minions they produce, though the control aspect is always present with them.”

“We can kill this one if you bring it to an isolated system,” the Dragon offered, “but we cannot do it here. Such a battle would be difficult, and it could not be concealed. There are too many eyes here.”

“There is another way to kill them, but that is not our aim,” Paul said, sensing a flinch in the smaller Dragons. “We wish to free them.”

4

“Explain carefully what you mean,” the Dragon said icily.

“I mean we’re not going to kill them unless needed,” Paul replied in kind, looking up at the big Zak’de’ron and ignoring the smaller ones. “They’ve been slaves since they were born. We’re going to see if we can salvage them.”

“You intend to turn them into weapons of your own use.”

“If you could find a way for us to do that consistent with our battle practices, please point it out,” Paul said sarcastically.

“Do not quibble with me, little Zen’zat.”

“Archon. I’m not a Zen’zat.”

“It is your legacy that you have inherited and made use of to build your feeble empire.”

“Zen’zat serve the V’kit’no’sat and are not allowed to reproduce. We are illegitimate offspring to them and must be destroyed. Do not confuse us with those savages. If they come here we will be fighting the Zen’zat. I am an Archon. You were once V’kit’no’sat. Do you wish to still be called as such?”

The large Dragon reared back slightly, but it was only him adjusting his seated position.

“You have developed considerably since the last time we met, little one. Sadly, it will not be enough to save you if they do discover your existence.”

“Further than you know. Why the dreams?”

Paul saw the barest of twitches in the big one, and with his Pefbar he could see neither of the small ones reacted to him, but they both noticed their elder’s reaction.

“What dreams do you speak of?”

“The ones that give us access to the fourth tier of psionics.”

This time he hissed, not in anger but surprise. “What has transpired?”

“One of my brethren has pierced the barrier and attained Choratrik. From the records we have, no Zen’zat has ever achieved this, nor do the V’kit’no’sat even know it exists. You gave Kara a Vorch’nas, including in it extensive information that has aided us greatly. You seem to have been helping us, but I think you’ve been testing us. Seeing what we could achieve on our own. Based off the V’kit’no’sat knowledge we have, we’re leveling up far faster than Zen’zat typically do and we’ve attained psionics they have not. Also, did you know we’ve found a way to share abilities?”

The Dragon’s head, attached to a snake-like neck, dipped lower so it could look closer at Paul, with its skull nearly being the size of his body.

“It seems a discussion on that matter is long overdue.”

“Indeed. First off,” Paul said, looking at the red Dragon. “Why are you two here when he is doing all the talking?”

“To observe,” it said simply in an altogether different tone of voice.

“You were born after me, correct? From one of the eggs discovered in stasis?”

“I was.”

“Then I am senior,” he said, turning back to the big Dragon, “to all but you.”

“Is this arrogance or ignorance?” the yellow Dragon said evenly.

“Both I believe,” the large one said, “but with a touch of wisdom. How many psionics do you possess, little Archon.”

“8 tier 1, 23 tier 2, 4 tier 3, and 16 battlemeld. Has that ever been achieved by the Zen’zat?”

The Dragon’s nostrils flared as he remained silent for a moment. “Not by V’kit’no’sat Zen’zat. Which tier 3s do you possess?”

“Jumat, Sav, Kex, and Ubven. All Archons of my level possess the same.”

“How have you accomplished this sharing?”

“We stumbled upon it by accident and tailored it to our use. Once one of us attains an ability, we can sync with another to trigger their ascension.”

“The V’kit’no’sat never discovered the battlemeld, yet you have. I am unsure what to make of this.”

“We train harder than them, and we also give orders rather than taking them.”

“Both points of merit, but I need to analyze you further. Will you allow me access to your mind?”

Paul turned to the yellow Dragon. “If it’s a two way street, I’ll allow him and you can share his point of view via your own battlemeld, assuming you didn’t give us something you did not possess.”

“If I wished to take the knowledge from you by force you could not stop me, Archon. There is no subterfuge here.”

“Never the less, I will allow him. Your power level is beyond mine.”

“So is his, as you are about to see.”

The yellow dragon walked forward and Paul held up his bare hand. The Zak’de’ron pushed its head into his palm making flesh to flesh contact and bypassing Paul’s Ikrid block.

Suddenly the Dragon’s mind was inside his own, a huge, powerful presence far larger than his fellow Humans’ but not as advanced. Paul was so used to having Jason inside his head that he could adequately size up the Zak’de’ron and spot the areas where it was the inferior, but in so many base ways it completely outclassed him that he was truly surprised.

There was no pushing or pulling involved, no contention, just an exploration of one another with Paul seeing most of its memories aside from specific portions that were blocked. He too was shielding some areas regarding their technology, codes, hidden worlds, and was ready to break the connection the moment an intervention occurred, but none was to come.

He could only feel the yellow Dragon’s mind, but he knew the others were also seeing through its perception. But more than its mind, Paul could also feel inside its body and recognized several psionic tissues similar to his own. It had Jumat, he was sure of it, and he suspected several other things, including ones that either the Archons hadn’t unlocked yet or special psionics that had not been given to the Zen’zat.

He was getting a wealth of knowledge just by being able to look around inside the Dragon’s body and memories, and he knew they were getting the same in return. The sharing occurred for more time than Paul could recount, then the Dragon withdrew its mind, shortly followed by breaking connection with his hand as it stepped back to a flanking position with a renewed respect existing between them both.

“You have done well, Archon. Though you are still physically weak compared to many Zen’zat, few have achieved as much as you have. It would not save you if you fought them, but if you continue on your present course you will outstrip them given time. In fact I can accurately say that your pace and intensity of training are giving you an enormous advantage over the Zen’zat, but their longevity is something that you will not quickly claim.”

“I know.”

“The dreams are meant to be a final test to determine if one is intelligent enough to be granted the highest powers. You cannot share Choratrik, do you know why?”

“I’m guessing the trigger is structured differently.”

“It is. It requires a mental alignment that cannot exist passively, therefore your twin link cannot replicate it unless you are so linked during a dream when it occurs, and such connection is deliberately blocked. You will never be able to share those abilities.”

“Have your Zen’zat ever achieved them?”

“A rare few.”

“Have the V’kit’no’sat discovered them in the Zen’zat genetic code? Surely they had to observe your Zen’zat using additional abilities during combat?”

“What knowledge we have of their current state suggests otherwise. They most likely assume it is coding that we gave them in addition rather than weaving it into the original lot.”

“Why did they not want the Zen’zat so equipped?”

“Arrogance is their lifeblood. They deem the Ter’nat inferior, and are right to do so on the whole, but they do not wish to accept that once upgraded, certain individuals can excel to levels of peerdom. They acknowledge the usefulness of Zen’zat while at the same time demeaning them. They did not want to give them equal or greater powers, and only relented knowing that they could not pass them on to offspring and that their power would be limited by the size of their bodies. We have no fear of you, so there was no reason not to give you the potential. If you prove unworthy it would simply lie dormant inside. You and your fellow Archons are beginning to prove yourselves worthy, even if you are not doing it via the path we originally outlined.”

Paul sighed, accepting the compliment but knowing that it meant little if the V’kit’no’sat ever returned. “How close are we to being exposed?”

“The border lies far from here, but all it will take is one whiff of your existence to bring them down upon you, and the same is true of us. I hope you understand the enormity of the trust we are instilling in you simply by coming here.”

“You also don’t have a choice since you can’t wipe our minds…short of killing us all.”

“While that may have been true in the past, you may accept it as a measure of respect now.”

“Likewise.”

“These Chixzon you have revealed to us are dangerous, far more so than I would have imagined. The ability to manipulate the Hadarak to their advantage is not something we had thought to be possible. Their level of genetics must be considerable, but I warn you not to mess with your own coding. We have put failsafes in to prevent most tampering, and only one intricately skilled would be able to alter them. If you pursue the tier 4 abilities, you must do it naturally. The Chixzon may in fact be our peers in genetics, but they operate in an entirely different manner. Our skills do not overlap sufficient for them to rework you, so for your sake do not attempt it.”

“Failsafe as in defense, or self-destruction?”

“Defense, and if obvious avenues are taken you will most likely upset a delicate balance, and in so doing damage yourselves. We did not put any damaging code in place. Such things are the product of inferior minds, and I suspect the Chixzon fall into this category. They created some sort of a kill code for these altered Hadarak, I presume?”

“They did,” Paul confirmed, having held back that piece of information previously.

“You would be wise to use it. What do you seek to gain here?”

“I have asked you here to seek your counsel and knowledge of the Hadarak. We know much from the Chixzon, but as you said their knowledge lies along different pathways, and with regards to the Hadarak may be outdated. Their plans to dominate the galaxy failed because of a singular weakness…the sedative that was discovered. Without it they would have achieved their goals. We need to understand these Uriti and what they are capable of, and the database that we have on Earth only goes into so much depth.”

“It is a redundant core and not meant to maintain the most delicate of files. I have personal knowledge of the Hadarak and I will tell you never to attempt contact with one. They are a plague on this galaxy and must be treated as such, else you will face immediate death.”

“Speed?”

“They can be outrun if wisely pursued, but they have countermeasures that can trap the unscrupulous navigators, most notably their minion swarms. When they flood the space around them, they are all but impossible to approach and ranged weapons will only do limited damage. Their bodies are made to take damage rather than deflect it. One must penetrate the outer layers if there is any hope to fatally wound one, but when they act in concert they exhibit additional abilities that make sustained fire almost impossible to achieve.”

“The Chixzon added weaponry to the Uriti. If I share information with you from the Chixzon, can you advise on the alterations and detail as intricate an analysis as possible. I truly do not know how we are going to proceed from this point on, but our first priority is to establish communication if at all possible outside the Chixzon route. Beyond that, we will pursue other options so long as we can keep this one contained here so that it is not a threat to other star systems.”

“Most likely futile, but given that I do not know the full extent of their alterations there may be a hope of merit in your ambitions. I will agree to the data sharing.”

“Beyond that there is a favor I must ask, and one that I believe is in our mutual self-interest. The Chixzon claim to have seeded the galaxy with the race that contains their legacy. We are searching this region and have found many such colonies, but there are bound to be far more beyond our borders. The alliance that has safeguarded the Uriti has agreed in principle to hunting for more of these colonies in order to inoculate them with a genetic alteration that we have devised that will strip the dangerous coding out of them…not rendering it dormant, but completely removing it and thus ensuring the Chixzon cannot return in the future through them.”

“And you wish us to look for more of this unspecified race?”

“And to inoculate them, yes. I know that certain races, given that knowledge, would hunt them down and destroy them to prevent the Chixzon return, but this is far more efficient a solution and does not involve mass murder. If we give you the inoculation, will you spread it to any and all colonies that you find?”

“You have yet to identify the race.”

“They are the Protovic.”

The Dragon huffed once. “Such a clever disguise. A pathetic, yet somewhat resilient race to hide themselves within. Their timeline, if it has not been altered by factors unseen to them, is incredibly ambitious. What has this Chixzon suggested that his peers would do if they returned?”

“Lay low and look for a means to conquer the galaxy where the Uriti failed, but if they could find some way to eliminate the weakness in them that they would seek them out or perhaps another Hadarak from which to make more. He is convinced that they would not make the same fatal mistake a second time, thus they would not reveal themselves until they were all but assured of victory.”

“From your memories, you have stated that their telepathy is inferior to your own?”

“Structurally yes, but he is also extremely young.”

“None the less, it is curious how their development has occurred differently than ours. I had assumed such things were more or less automatic with regards to genetics. Apparently that is not so, for they have exceeded us with the Hadarak while failing to even produce adequate results in other areas. Such things may not be apparent to you, but they are obvious to me from your memories.”

“You have attempted to reengineer the Hadarak?”

“We have attempted all things considered and found no way to defeat them other than through continual warfare and attrition. Their sanctuaries in the deep core cannot be reached, thus there is no way known to permanently eradicate them even if we were to mount an enormous crusade to kill all those who come forth. An equilibrium was thus maintained, and is currently done so with a thin region ceded to them that was not previously. This denotes that the V’kit’no’sat are not as strong as they once were and I believe it is partly because we are no longer bolstering them, but also due to the Rit’ko’sor rebellion.”

“What happened to them?”

“Unknown. We cannot gather much intel from the core, but what we have thus far indicates that they have been wiped from all records and therefore have not been reassimilated.”

“Annihilated?”

“Possibly, but regardless of their ultimate fate they seem to have hurt the V’kit’no’sat to such a degree that they have not fully recovered. Their loosening of the equilibrium will have cumulative negative effects that will force them to commit further resources to holding the line in time. The Hadarak can sense weakness when it exists, and they deliberately prod any such signs looking for a way to penetrate the defenses. They could simply travel past them and be pursued, but they choose to attack them directly. They are a plague that thinks and plans, but does so in such a way that we have bene unable to determine their full motivation.”

“All the more reason to try and talk to a Uriti if possible.”

“I am not hopeful, but I will assist you with this endeavor. While the traitors hold the Hadarak at bay, they cannot be continually trusted with such a task. We are not, nor will be, in a position to supplant them, but if another method of combating the Hadarak exists it is important that we find it. But do not mistake my acquiescence as a mitigation of the danger. If the Chixzon hold on this Uriti lapses, it will prove beyond your ability to defeat regardless of what impressive progress your Archons have made. The Hadarak fight navally before all else, and must be countered on such. You of all Archons should understand magnitude of this.”

“I understand part of it. I need you to help educate me further.”

“Is that humility I hear?”

“Never,” Paul said with defiance. “Just acceptance of ignorance that I have not yet been able to rectify from reading reports alone. I need someone with greater knowledge, or better yet, experience with the Hadarak.”

“Where is the Archon I gifted previously?”

“Elsewhere making preparations for if and when the V’kit’no’sat return.”

“Prudent, but otherwise futile. Anonymity is your only effective defense. If she were here I could upload the necessary knowledge to her Vorch’nas, but unless she is close by there is no time. When we leave from here you will not see us again and your efforts concerning the Uriti will be your own. If you have the ability to destroy it, then we shall leave it in your care, for good or ill. Our intervention is tenuous, and destruction of one will not be possible if more prying eyes continue to arrive as you anticipate. I suspect this location is going to come under great scrutiny, thus we must return to the shadows before we can be discovered.”

“What would you counsel regarding that?”

“You fear their exposure of you to the traitors. This is a real threat if the races coming here have ties back to the core, but if the Uriti never traveled to the core then you may be clear of that catastrophe. With regards to these races alone I would advise caution and extreme military buildup to discourage intervention. If you are going to claim possession of this Uriti, you may well have to do more than be able to control it.”

Paul cringed. “I was afraid of that.”

“I will advise destroying it and the others before your grasp upon them can be challenged.”

“It’s already been challenged once, but no, we’re not going to kill them unless they take action themselves that forces it.”

“Noble, but not prudent.”

“Noble usually isn’t.”

“Your path is your own.”

“That it is,” Paul agreed, knowing he was referencing the V’kit’no’sat betrayal. They weren’t going to ally themselves, trust themselves, to anyone else again after that. “As for the Hadarak…begin enlightening me.”

5

August 13, 3256

Alamo System

Inner Zone

The Sanguine Blade sat in a holding orbit inside the empty system that had filled up with starships, some 2,193 of them not counting the fleet that had come along with Jason’s flagship. Those numbered 6,288 and included a mix of warships, personnel transports, cargo ships, sedas, and MCVs. The majority of the ones already here were not Star Force, instead being made up of a healthy number of Sety ships and a handful of others from what remained of The Nine without the Trinx and Yisv, whose fleet was still apparently loyal but not willing to enter a system with a woken Uriti.

But there were others, several hundred of them scattered around the area and not getting close to one another that were not identified in Star Force’s ship profiles. Some updated once the links to the present fleet had come through, but most of the vessels had ‘unidentified’ tags with a little information on them from sensor records probably compiled while in this system.

“A lot of visitors,” Jason commented from the observation deck that had been built into the command ship specifically for this mission. It had windows all around it that fed off of external cameras while being located deep within the heart of the vessel and the safest part of the ship, giving it an openness that its occupant preferred.

“I expect there will be a lot more in coming years,” Duke Pryon added as he looked out at the floating masses of ships while a small portion of them were moving about and active while the Uriti was lounging inside the star’s outer levels and barely visible on sensors.

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait that long,” Davis corrected from his work station at the center of the chamber while the two Dukes and three trailblazers were lounging around and looking out the ‘windows’ or at the holos while the Director was looking up a variety of things in the ship’s database. “Assuming word got out fairly quick, there are probably others enroute as we speak. Hopefully not any warfleets, but that all depends on the reason why they’re coming.”

“They’re not getting Nefron,” Riley said firmly. “And even if they do he’ll be more trouble than he’s worth. The Chixzon in him doesn’t take well to fools.”

“Just because we claim only he can operate the equipment isn’t convincing to the skeptics,” Paul added, sitting on a console and lazily swinging one leg hanging in the air. “The Trinx obviously thought they could make it work without him, or with him under coercion, and I doubt we’re going to convince others of the futility of that even if we do a meet and greet session with him. People are going to see what they want to see.”

“And they’re going to see a badass fleet guarding this system,” Jason added, referencing all the ships they’d scrounged from across the ADZ with more on the way as they became available.

“Their definition of badass might differ from yours,” Duke Yetti said as she sat next to Paul in a slightly more rigid pose, but still informally on top of a work table, “if they’re operating on a high tech level. A lot of these races probably know the others, and aside from our ability to control the Uriti they might see us as inferiors.”

“Not the cool kids, huh?” Jason summed up.

“It’s our job to make them understand,” Davis said distractedly as he thumbed through more files. “I trust you guys know how to show off enough to get the job done.”

“I’m questioning your Archon credentials just for asking that,” Paul reprimanded the acolyte.

Davis smirked, but continued his search in silence.

“How certain are you that the Uriti won’t attack us?” Pryon asked Riley.

The trailblazer shrugged. “She seems to ignore us unless we use the magic word. As long as we don’t get in her way or shoot her I’d guess we’ll be fine. If someone else does that, well, we might get caught up in the ruckus, but we can easily outrun her.”

“I’m more concerned about the facilities we’re building here.”

“She can wreck them if she wants,” Riley said plainly, “but with the safeguards in place I think we’ll be alright.”

“I hope you’re not overestimating her speed…or temperament.”

“Don’t worry,” Paul said with an ease that partially reassured the Duke. “We’re putting enough engine capacity into the facilities that you can avoid her so long as you get a head start, and she’s not exactly hard to see coming.”

“If moving counters the Uriti’s abilities, then why is it so feared?”

“Ignorance,” Riley answered. “Well, that and them getting their asses kicked when they were stupid enough to engage them. The Uriti are very good, specialists really, at busting up heavily fortified worlds that were never meant to be breached. A lot of races think like that, and when you have populations that you can’t move out of the way fast enough, the Uriti is an unstoppable wrecking machine. Don’t build static facilities and keep your population far, far away from them and you’ve got a workable situation.”

“If we were in the ADZ, then I’d assume we’d have a problem?”

“Not a problem, just a cause for concern. It’ll take Nami a long time to get there from here, so we’d have time to take…some countermeasures.”

“Other than the kill switch?”

“Not really,” Paul admitted. “If we knew which system she was going to then we could evacuate, but with so many options in the ADZ we could never get everyone out of her potential path. As long as we keep her out here in the empty zone she’s not a threat, and I hope everyone else starts to realize that as well. Get her close to inhabited systems and then we’ve got a problem. She sneezes in the wrong place and you lose 50 million people.”

“Are you certain she’ll not start creating minions unless directed?”

“Pretty sure,” Riley answered, “but even if she does, Nefron should be able to control them as well. In fact, experimenting with that is on our to-do list.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Just a few, so we know what they’re really like.”

“And to confirm that they’re biological machines rather than people?”

“That and some other stuff.”

“Won’t that freak out the guys in the cheap seats?” Yetti asked.

“Might,” Riley admitted, “but I don’t care. They’re not calling the shots, and the sooner we establish that the better.”

“I agree,” Jason chimed in.

“Here it is,” Davis said, with everyone turning to look at him as he pulled up a record and displayed it in holo for them to read in three different locations around the large room. “I knew I’d come across it before.”

Paul looked at what was labeled as The Nexus records regarding various cataloged races, specifically those that were documented to have existed outside their expansive territory. There was a bit of history attached to each, detailing the circumstances of the contacts made, and one very powerful race in particular was noted as having made contact on a survey mission. They had made contact and stated a request for any knowledge of race known as the Iggarat and had provided technology samples for comparison.

Those tech samples were now visible, and Paul saw that Davis had linked them with some aspects of Ancient technology. Most of it was different but the key pieces matched up, but it was the ship profile that matched those of four such vessels sitting within view of the Sanguine Blade’s sensors that confirmed the link.

“I think these guys were searching for another of the Ancient races’ remains in order to locate hidden Uriti and the Sety didn’t pick up on it. They may have quietly put out feelers into their territory later, which wouldn’t be all that difficult considering how overstretched they are, and probably, if my guess is right, laid down a network to gather any tips on any information about the Uriti or the Ancients that might surface. When Nami got loose they couldn’t do anything about it, but they watched from afar. When they saw that we could control them that sent the spark out to who knows how many races in the Uriti preservation club that are now on their way here.”

“What’s the end game?” Paul asked. “I doubt all of these races are simply being prudent guardians of sleeping monsters.”

“Leverage would be my guess,” the Director said, leaning back in his chair. “You find the giant Easter Egg and lay claim to it, you then possess the ability to release an unstoppable plague on the galaxy. Even if people figured you were bluffing they’d probably regard you as worthy of respect…or fear trying to conquer you. Last resort might be releasing the Uriti so it could destroy the invaders or perhaps just a ‘screw you’ last measure as they were wiped out. There are a lot of possibilities, but I think the bottom line is that if you control a Uriti site it bumps you up into a very elite status.”

“And we just outdid them all,” Pryon noted.

Davis nodded. “They’re either coming to suck up, or because they’re ticked that they’re no longer top dog and want to try and find a way to reassert themselves, either through bluffing or taking action. I think we’re exposing a very secret society that extends well beyond The Nine. It may be that these other so-called guardians were in contact with one another rather than acting in seclusion. In which case we could be getting visitors from the other side of the galactic core.”

Jason whistled. “I hope they don’t take a short cut through the middle.”

“We need more firepower,” Paul said, realizing just how outclassed they might be in short order.

“We need control,” Davis corrected. “Part of that is firepower, but the greater part is they’re seeing that there is a purpose in this system and that we’re driving it. We have to be doing things with the Uriti rather than just sitting on it. We’ve already established that we’re making this system an embassy for these various races to permanently inhabit if they wish, which will make us the arbiters and hosts, but we need more than that. Experimenting with the minions is a double-edged sword. It could scare some, but entice others that also want to study them. Those races that play nice we’ll let observe, but control stays with us. They can make suggestions, but they never give orders. That’s one optional activity, but we need more than that.”

“It depends on what they want from them,” Yetti summed up. “Are there any material gains that can be had?”

“Observational data of a waking one,” Riley offered. “Beyond that, unless you want a lot of holes in a planet for some reason, there’s nothing beneficial from them.”

“Unless they want you to use one to bust up their rivals,” Pryon suggested.

“We’re not going to do that,” Davis said firmly, “and we need to make them understand it from the get go. We’re not utilizing their combat capability in any way, but if we are ever invaded that restriction could be rescinded. We’re not actually going to do that, but we are going to offer the promise of containment and hold to it firmly in order to gain credibility over time. The threat of us having cause to rescind that promise, legitimately, is our leverage point. We’re not going to use it to make gains, however, and that should also send a message. It’s going to be defensive leverage.”

“Over the long term,” Paul clarified.

“Yes,” Davis said with regret. “Such things take time to develop. The most dicey timeframe is now, so what else can we do to be driving events?”

“Visible construction will send the signal that we’re active,” Yetti noted, “but if we rotate the Uriti between a couple, or maybe 3 or 4 systems periodically will demonstrate that we do have it under our control.”

“A preserve,” Riley amended with a smile as he looked at Paul, “and we can see if we can get her speed up a bit.”

Pryon looked confused. “Why would we want to increase her capabilities?”

“Walking the dog,” Davis said with a satisfied nod. “I like it.”

“Explain please,” Yetti asked, also confused.

“Something before your time,” Davis said as he stood up and began pacing around the perimeter of the ‘windows’ as he thought. “Dogs used to be kept as pets, and the pet owners often did nothing with them. Treated them like furniture that just sat around and looked good, maybe did a few tricks. They died rather fast from the stagnation, not to mention developed many disorders prior to that. It was found that what they called ‘exercise’ was beneficial to both the longevity and temperament of the dogs, so their owners would take them out into public areas to walk them, partly as a status symbol but also to maintain their pets in what they thought was the responsible manner.”

“What exactly is a pet?” Pryon asked.

“A term from the dark ages,” Davis said with mild disgust. “It can mean one’s property, a keepsake, a pampered individual, or a piece of living art. It comes from a time when Humans looked into the eyes of another and deemed them not to be people, and from that a lot of bad things came. Pets weren’t immune to that, but they tended to fair better than those labeled ‘cattle.’ Eating pets was taboo, but aside from some that were well cared for, most pets were left to stagnate and suffer in ways their owners did not understand.”

“I’m glad I missed that,” the Duke said, catching onto the point. “You want to train the Uriti?”

Davis looked to Riley. “What are you estimates on reworking the transmitter?”

“No clue. The power levels are high enough, I think, but our syntax is wrong or we just smell bad. I don’t know. We could stumble onto the right settings tomorrow or a thousand years from now.”

“Which means we need to pursue simultaneous courses of interaction,” Davis wisely said as the possibilities unfolded in his mind like pages of a book being speed read. “If the Uriti will respond to orders, we can train it even if it doesn’t understand why. And the more orders we get it to successfully follow, the greater the influence we will have over it. Perhaps more than even the Chixzon did. And while the Uriti seems to be immune to stagnation as far as death is concerned, my gut says that it is not immune to all of its effects?” he asked, looking to the trailblazers.

“My credits say the same,” Paul agreed, with Jason nodding in sync.

“We might get it liking us despite the genetic controls,” Riley added, “just by getting it into better shape.”

“Them,” Yetti amended, drawing glances from them all. “If we’re going to solidify our position here we need to bring in more Uriti, perhaps not immediately, but there is one nearby that we have leverage to get released. Others are well guarded, but some races might not be protecting them to gain leverage, but rather to keep their own people safe. If we could prove that we could remove the threat safely and take it far away from their civilization, some of them might give them up freely. Hell, they might even pay us to take them off their hands.”

Davis, on sudden impulse, stopped his pacing of the perimeter and headed for a work station, pulling up a map of the system and zooming out until 10 or so systems were visible. He then pulled it out again, seeing what was there within the nearest 100, then pulled back again to the nearest 1000 before spotting the first inhabited system…a Star Force colony that was relocating the Hedrock race to their homeworld, but doing so as a ward of the empire rather than an independent civilization, per their request.

Davis remained silent as he worked, pulling up stellar data for the stars around the Alamo System and seeing how much of the necessary elements the Uriti needed and favored were there, finding several prime areas and a lot of adequate reserves. A secondary search of systems gave him a feel for the geography, then he began highlighting systems in a clump situated off Alamo. To that he added another section that ringed the inner area, then he pointed at both.

“My friends, welcome to Jurassic Park.”

6

August 29, 3256

Alamo System

Inner Zone

“I assume everyone’s translation software is updated,” Yetti said as she looked out at the mass of holograms surrounding her on the observation deck. “If not, well, I think we’ll know soon enough.”

She looked around, making eye contact with all the varied races, of which 7 of The Nine were present in addition to the representatives in the various ships in system observing the Uriti and the activity here. Some had refused this meeting, and thus were being kept out of the loop, but 53 of them were here, bringing the gallery of holograms to an even 60.

“Save your questions for now and just listen. I am Star Force Duke Yetti, Uriti Preserve Inquisitor. I will be the point of contact for your empires. Information will flow from me to you and vice versa. Most of you have been sent here to observe and report, which is acceptable, but make no mistake when I say that you will not be permitted to interfere in our operations here. We are only now beginning construction of what will be a great many facilities in this system and others nearby in what we’re creating as the boundaries of the Preserve.”

She hit a handheld control and the starmap of the region was set up before her and transmitted to each of the representatives’ ships.

“These 34 star systems are what we are designating as the Uriti Preserve. They are off limits to all traffic save for this system where we will establish facilities for you and others to come and visit if you wish. You will do so on our terms, or our military will deal with you in one of various methods. We will likewise keep the Uriti here, rotating through these systems and no others. We will keep them away from inhabited systems, and likewise keep outsiders away from them. At present we have one Uriti here and no infrastructure. Both facts will change over time as we seek out and offer to relocate any other Uriti found or within your care if you so wish it.”

That announcement sent twitches and convulsions through a good portion of the representatives, including the Sety, but no one interrupted her and she continued on quickly to take advantage of the moment of confusion and keep the revelations coming.

“Furthermore, several of you have already committed yourselves to the containment of this Uriti, pledging to do what is necessary to keep it from harming worlds. Star Force’s intent is to do more than that. We have no intention of sedating this one or any others we bring here. We intend to care for them, study them, and treat them with the respect that their creators did not share. The Uriti were created to be living weapons and thrust at enemy systems with orders to demolish them. They are quite good at that sort of thing, but we intend to never utilize that function unless as an act of last resort against anyone foolish enough to try and conquer us.”

“I do not make this as a cavalier threat. I make it as a promise. If your relations with us are peaceful you need never fear a Uriti showing up in your system. We will keep them here, in this Preserve, and should we engage in a war of conquest against another, as we have done numerous times in our history, the Uriti will not be used. Those few of you that have studied our history, and I’m sure others will do so in coming years, will realize that we do not fight those who do not deserve it, and when we do fight we do not do so sloppily. Sending a Uriti to destroy a planet is extremely sloppy, and so long as we are not betrayed, we have no intention to ever use the Uriti as a weapon. They will stay here, within the Preserve, permanently.”

“As to what we will do with them here…that remains to be determined. We are already attempting to find a secondary means of communication other than the controlling function encoded within them by the Chixzon, and how we proceed down the road will ultimately be determined by what level of communication we are able to achieve. You need not concern yourself with that if you do not wish it. You will be welcome to observe our efforts and we will make records available to you, but this is our Preserve, our Uriti, and our project. There may be opportunities for you to assist, but we will always maintain control.”

“And we will guard the control of this Uriti against anyone who tries to steal or destroy that control. Already a race called the Trinx have betrayed and attacked us, so please understand that we are not in a trusting mood. I know your empires and races have questions and concerns, which I will address in time, but for now you need to accept that we are in control here and will be further cementing that control over time. Right now we are building an embassy station that is mobile enough to avoid the Uriti if it should come our way. There will be no fixed installations within the Preserve that we are not willing to lose, and any such expendable infrastructure will not be permanently inhabited. While we can order the Uriti, the level of that control has not been fully tested yet, though doing so is on our to-do list.”

“We will test and learn about this Uriti while building infrastructure that will be able to move and stay out of its way. Those of you who are agreeable will be allowed to establish and maintain an embassy on this station for a variety of purposes. Already we have a great number of far flung races here that probably have little or no contact with one another through other means. As long as this is a focal point for you all, we might as well make this Preserve a diplomatic station as well. On a lesser note, people will want to come and see the Uriti for all number of reasons. To that end we will, over time, allow a select amount of visitors, whether they be researchers or tourists, to enter the Preserve on our terms.”

“For those of you who doubt our control, take note of the star with your ships’ sensors. In a moment we will call the Uriti out to demonstrate that it will respond to us.”

There was a long pause, but once she had given everyone ample time to prepare, she sent a signal to the Zeus and almost immediately the feeble tracking of the Uriti within the star showed it begin to gain altitude. Yetti didn’t say anything more until it finally burst forth through the highest level of material that made up the ‘surface’ of the star and out into the hazy atmosphere that surrounded it, slowly making its way out into full view and to the coordinates that the Duke had already highlighted on the map for the representatives to see. As promised, the Uriti flew up to those coordinates and stopped on the spot, holding position and doing nothing else.

“There will be other such demonstrations in the coming months as we study the Uriti, but I hope this answers any lingering questions as to whether or not we are being honest. The Uriti responds to our commands and we promise to keep it within this preserve, not only to protect our own inhabited systems, which are far closer than any of yours, but to protect everyone that might be coming in the path of a Uriti on the rampage, as this one recently was.”

“You do not know us, yet, but our word is good. So stay and observe. You’ll see that the Uriti does not travel beyond this Preserve, not will we allow anyone else to have access to it except through us. They will not be used as weapons again, and any Uriti deposited into this Preserve will likewise be free from misuse or roving rampages. If you know of where another one is located, or are guarding it yourself against others or simply against the chance of it waking, you may contact me at any time to discuss the matter. Though the establishment of this Preserve is in its infancy, we will eventually be able to bring any other Uriti here for safe keeping. At the moment we intend to study this one further before we attempt to find and retrieve others.”

“If you do not wish a Uriti that you are safeguarding moved, so be it. Let it slumber for now. We have much work to do, but I will state clearly that anyone who releases a Uriti to go on a rampage will be dealt with harshly, and it’s only a question of whether Star Force or someone else will get to you first. These Uriti are not to be trifled with, which is why we will require everyone in this system to obey our protocols as we set them forth, otherwise you will be removed from this system and the rest of the Preserve.”

“Now, on a partial side note. Some empires have requested permission to colonize worlds in this empty region that we are reclaiming from a regional threat. There are many empty worlds, but the presence of a Uriti will undoubtedly make people rethink the safety of putting down fixed infrastructure that’s anywhere close by. This preserve is going to be ringed by a neutral zone of systems that the Uriti will not be allowed within, nor will anyone else. The systems just outside it will be safe to travel through and inhabit, though I understand if you’ll want a few hundred years of activity to monitor to confirm that. I’m not offering you worlds to colonize, though some of you may be so inclined to make such requests. I am telling you this to let you know that we do not fear the Uriti running rampant, and if we are wrong we will be the first to suffer the consequences.”

“So stay, listen, watch, and learn…but do not try to assert yourselves here. We are in control and we will remain in control. Star Force is a fair empire, but not a weak or timid one. Deal with us honestly and there will be no reason to deny you entry to this system. But if you do give us cause to deny you, we will enforce such a ban up to the point of confiscating any ships that trespass here.”

“Will we use the Uriti to do that? No. They are not designed for such use. They were meant to target a system and destroy it. Finer control was never the Chixzon’s intent. And for those who do not yet know, the Chixzon were the race that created the Uriti. Information on them we will also share, along with a wealth of other things. There are inroads for you to make here if you choose, but you must do so respectfully and peaceably. Attempt to force anything and you will be met with equal or greater force, and not just from our empire. Keeping the Uriti contained here is a matter of concern for many of you, and as I said, some of you have already pledged your empires to insuring that the Uriti does not go on another rampage and that those sleeping remain sleeping.”

“This Uriti will not be remaining in this system permanently, for we will rotate it around the Preserve, but the embassy that we are building will remain here, in a safe orbit where it will not cross paths with the Uriti by accident. In addition, many of our ships and mobile stations will also remain here to further develop inter-empire relations that may result in many beneficial outcomes. For the most part, you have permission to travel through Star Force territory unhindered so long as you do not interfere with the systems you are passing through or the traffic that you may encounter. We prefer open borders in most cases. This Preserve will be one of the few exceptions.”

Paul was in the nexus onboard the Sanguine Blade monitoring the Uriti and the assembled ships in the system as Davis and his Dukes were laying the law down just in case there was a problem that needed dealing with. Jason was in a training session so Paul was covering for him when he got a personal comm routed to him from the newly arrived Sety representative.

“Is there a problem?” he asked when he accepted and a small hologram popped up before him.

“The revelation is over and your Duke is busy answering questions. I will ask you this bluntly, but as politely as I can. Do you intend to remove Glaech from its sedation?”

“We’ve really got to work on the name thing. I’m sticking with Bahamut.”

“Whatever you wish to call it, please answer my question.”

“Not immediately. We need to study Nami before we try to bring Bahamut here. It will not be a quick process.”

“Then you will rouse…Bahamut…despite our objections?”

“What objections are those? For what possible reason would we leave that Uriti in a separate place that would require a separate fleet to defend it? Better to have them both in one location.”

“There may be some wisdom in that, but it is a decision that we all should make.”

“We will gladly listen to counsel, but the decision is ours regarding Bahamut. It is in our invasion corridor against the Li’vorkrachnika. The Uriti that you and the others guard is a different matter. We will not wake them and put any people living above them in danger, but we will suggest that all of them be moved here for safekeeping.”

“And if we decline that suggestion?”

“At the moment there is no cause to start a war with The Nexus to reclaim a sleeping Uriti. However, if after study we learn that the sedation is in some way harming them that may change.”

“You put the wellbeing of Uriti as higher priority than our lives?”

“No, I put it as higher priority than your ego. Remember, we are doing you a very, very, very big favor in all of this. Remember back shortly to when you had no way to control a Uriti and this one was loose and heading wherever it wanted. I should not be hearing ingratitude in your voice.”

“It is the arrogance in yours that concerns me.”

“It’s not arrogance, it’s accuracy. Though if I were in your position I would be cautious as well. If we wanted to we could use a Uriti to cause a lot of damage. We’re not like that though, as you’ll learn if you haven’t yet, but from your position I would also recognize that at least we can control the Uriti, and since at the moment it’s not out tearing up systems it is an improvement in condition.”

“At the moment, yes. It is the future that concerns me.”

“Us as well, which is why we’d prefer your help in setting up this preserve and maintaining it.”

“But you intend to continue with or without our assistance?”

“Yep. If you want to wash your hands of the matter entirely, turn over any Uriti you’re currently guarding, you can do so and forget about them entirely. We’ll take it from here.”

“And what do you gain from this if you do not use them as leverage to extort various tributes?”

“One very big deterrent against invasion.”

“And what invasion do you fear?”

“None specifically. But I didn’t think you’d accept the answer that we have no motive.”

“If you have no motive, you have no impetus for action.”

“No profit motive then. This will be an expenditure for us, especially considering the systems we’re going to devote to this Preserve. Those, auctioned off to The Nexus or others, could profit us greatly. We are doing this for the simple reason that it needs to be done and we’re the only ones that can exercise control over the Uriti. But even if we couldn’t, we’d still try and find a way.”

“Altruism is your motive?”

“If you want to think of it that way, yes. Though I suppose we will make a nice little profit off the tourist revenue once everything is set up. But that’s going to be negligible when compared to the cost of establishing a proper blockade.”

“As you have said, we have no choice but to return to the anarchy of the past. But we are slow to trust those we have little history with.”

“And I’m not too confident in your choice of friends.”

“The Trinx are…I do not even know the right phrase to use. Disappointment is too kind. Do you plan a reprisal?”

“The Uriti that they possess will be coming here eventually, one way or another. But that will be a long time in the future. We lost a lot of ships in that battle. Replacing those and building the Preserve is going to be a very large effort in order to do it right, and it will take time.”

“You have honored your promises thus far. Continue to do so and you will have no quarrel with the Sety. But you do not have our trust.”

“I don’t need it. Just your compliance.”

“You will have it,” the Sety said as he ended the conversation with a mild tone of disgust.

7

January 9, 3258

Alamo System

Inner Zone

Davis watched from the observation deck as Nami traced her slow path across the star system from pylon 5 to 6, making yet another lap of the course laid out for it by the trailblazers. Within a month they’d begin weapon tests, adding a small target for it to destroy at the end of its circuits, and many of the races that were still present in this system were eager to see that. The first embassy station was partially complete, but many of the observers had not requested a presence there. There wasn’t much eagerness for participation, yet, but a handful of races beyond the already allied 7 had deposited at least a minimal presence on the station.

Davis wasn’t going to be taking residence there. That was Duke Yetti’s job. She was going to handle the diplomatic liaison between Star Force and any and all races that came here while Duke Pryon was going to oversee the warden function of the Preserve, building the necessary infrastructure and anything the trailblazers needed with regards to their handling of the Uriti, then a third Duke would be added later if needed to handle the visitors and tourist traffic that may or may not manifest. The trailblazers had already assured Davis that they’d work out the necessities of the training package and in the process give him a good show to put on for outsiders to see how much control they actually had while not revealing too much information.

Nefron was being kept away from the other races, the silent partner in all of this despite the many protests. Of those races talking, most wanted to speak with him out of either curiosity or a wish to try and influence the single individual who had the power to control the Uriti…and the longer Davis kept them thinking in terms like that the better. Nefron wouldn’t change his allegiance, nor was he worried about such things. What he was worried about was outsiders coming in and taking immediate action. The longer that didn’t happen and Star Force’s position here stabilized, the more leverage he would have against many races that had technology levels equal to or partially superior to their own.

That technological advantage wasn’t complete, for Star Force was building based off the V’kit’no’sat tech tree and making a few upgrades of their own enroute. That gave them a much more comprehensive base than other races or empires possessed, but some of the individual engines, shields, or weapons that these races were fielding were damn impressive and dangerous, as were so many being in the same place at the same time without a strong controlling hand governing them all.

Davis had as many ships here as he could manage without stalling the war with the lizards. That border had to keep pushing forward else more people would die as the lizards continued to spread into areas not yet contained. Drawing ships from the ADZ was problematic, for he didn’t want to delve too deep into their reserves, but he needed as many here as possible to forestall brash actions. The upcoming weapons demonstration by the Uriti would hopefully give anyone thinking of trying to usurp Star Force additional pause.

And while more Star Force ships were incoming, so were the Voku. They were manifesting at odd times and places, with far more here than Davis thought would come. Either Cal-com regarded this as seriously as they did, or Paul’s Zak’de’ron visit had prompted an order from them to get the Voku flocking here in what were promised to be even more massive numbers in subsequent years. Already there were a few scattered reports of massive convoys coming across the gap between their home territory and the ADZ that would eventually end up out here.

Those reports were courtesy of the hastily build communications relay link that had stretched out this far via a number of permanent stations and mobile communications sedas filling in the gaps so Davis could remain in contact with the empire while he camped out here. There wasn’t a lot to do, but with so many new empires to deal with, and get a read on, it wasn’t something he was going to trust to Dukes or even the trailblazers. Star Force was treading on a very precipitous edge and they needed all the experience and guile that they could get on this matter.

The Chamra, Dati, and Yisv had already made independent contact with Star Force, and the first two of those had redirected most of those diplomatic overtures here to Davis personally while the Yisv were still keeping away from any system with the Uriti in it. So while he was dealing with new races he was also trying to forge ties or lay down the law with these other more familiar advanced empires as they also jockeyed for position and status here while backing Star Force so that no one else could depose them and endanger the controller.

They didn’t have many ships available but a few more were coming in periodically, just as some of the observer fleets were getting reinforcements as well. All it would really take was one ship to keep watch, so the additional vessels were more of a visible threat that he was going to have to deal with eventually, but he didn’t have too big of a leverage point here to work with immediately, otherwise he would have demanded that all ships identify themselves and their affiliations. As it was, some were still lurking in the shadows and not taking a public stance.

The battlemap had an active tracking mechanism in place to determine when new ships arrived and was programmed to ping him an alert when an unidentified ship or large grouping appeared, so when the double ping sounded he turned around sharply as his eyes tracked to the system hologram.

He saw immediate activity from the drones surrounding the Sanguine Blade, for the newcoming ships weren’t at a jumpline. They were right beside him, barely 30 miles away, and there was one enormous vessel at the center of a fleet that numbered over 500, all of which were a mix of glossy black hull plates and luminous strips.

Davis mentally linked with the battlemap controls and replayed the last minute as the fleet quickly coalesced around his ship in aggressive defense posture. On the playback there was nothing there, absolutely nothing, then suddenly the ships winked into existence with a telltale sparkle of light. It looked like a brief fireworks display as they all appeared, with Davis’s gut clenching as he focused the replay on those sparkles. He searched for the telltale disruptions that cloaking devices made, running the computer through the necessary paces that should have allowed them to detect the variations once they knew where to look and at that close range…but there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Not even the V’kit’no’sat had ever been able to produce a true cloaking device, meaning that whoever these guys were, they were either technological geniuses with a singular breakthrough or a major new player that had them extremely outclassed.

“Davis, you seeing this?” Jason’s voice asked over an open comm.

“Yeah. They talking?”

“Pithy. They want to address you, and their message came through in English.”

“Link them here.”

“No, they want to meet in person.”

“Bad idea?”

“Did you notice how they arrived?”

“Perfect cloaking device.”

“I don’t want someone or something like that getting onboard my ship.”

“Mist scan?”

“We can, but it’ll take some time to set up. We’ll also have to arrange a lot of security for you.”

“Take your time, but if they want to talk that’s better than shooting first.”

“I think this means they’ve had a cloaked ship here observing for a while.”

“I wonder how many more are out there. You think the Zak’de’ron are completely gone?”

“If not they’re going to get an eyeful.”

“I know,” Davis said, referencing the tech differential. “Tell them I accept, then set it up to your liking.”

“Holo would be to my liking,” Jason differed, “but we’ll make it work.”

“Did we get a name?”

“If they have a native one they didn’t give it, but the translation is Knights of Quenar.”

It took four days before preparations were ready, then Davis found himself waiting on a rebuilt cargo bay in the center of what looked like a sports arena. The center was open to the air with large columns ringing it and all the apparatus to generate incredibly powerful shields that could bisect the area on a thought. Multiple layers could be added, meaning that anyone inside the arena could be sectioned apart like a chess board. That would allow the Knights of Quenar entry and the ability to talk with him in person, yet give Star Force the ability to protect Davis should they try anything.

Davis was also wearing his Archon armor, clad in acolyte silver while the bright pinks of Jason and Paul were beside him. Riley was not present, instead handling fleet coordination from the Zeus and protecting Nefron, knowing that he was probably the bigger target than Davis if these newcomers wanted to do more than talk.

A small transport had entered the bay moments ago, sealed off by newly built walls that gave it a decent landing area but then forced its occupants to pass through an airlock that held the ‘mist’ sensors. In reality they were tiny robots the size of dust that relayed their positions to the nearby sensors, so that if they were fooled by a cloaking device the little robots would be able to paint a picture of the silhouette by their physical absence in the space it occupied.

The KoQ had been informed of the procedure and approved of it, so the first Davis saw of them was when the inside of the airlock opened and they walked through the opposite wall of the arena. They wore no visible armor, merely loose fitting green clothing with a multitude of golden ornamentation. There were three of them, each with a Humanoid torso, but from the waist down they split into four legs that were part spider part Human. They angled away from the center of mass then went straight down, but they were well muscled and looked to give them impressive jumping capability.

Their skin was hairy, covered in greys and whites so thick he couldn’t make out the actual skin beneath it, and the same was true of their faces, which vaguely resembled dogs with a short snout, but they had two eyes and two arms much like his own, though they sported what looked like seven fingers as they walked across the considerable gap towards the three Humans with a backdrop of Archons, Knights, and Commandos of various Star Force races standing by ready to act if anything went poorly.

Their minds are blank, Jason commented telepathically.

Well shielded, Paul amended.

Poker then, Davis noted as they continued to walk towards the waiting trio, trusting in his own Ikrid blocks to keep his thoughts protected if the Knights of Quenar were in fact telepathic. They waited for them to cross the 200 meters or so until they came to a low wall, barely 8 inches high, that denoted where they were not to cross. The three of them stepped up to it side by side, with the one on the left being slightly taller than the others’ 6 foot plus height, making them almost eye level with the Archons.

“Where is the Chixzon?” the bigger one demanded, actually speaking English rather than having it work through a translation mechanism. His words carried a shrill accent, but his words were clear enough.

“Not onboard this ship,” Davis stated plainly. “I was told you wished to speak with me.”

“Bring him before us.”

“Others have wished to speak with him as well, and have been declined. Given his unique abilities he is not accessible to guests.”

“You will bring him before us,” the KoQ said, holding up his right hand towards Davis.

Suddenly the Human in the silver armor was lifted off the ground by an invisible force. Paul couldn’t see any Lachka tendrils, but he flashed his Rentar around him without success…then with a thought he telekinetically grabbed the big one and knocked him to the ground, pinning him there as Jason stepped in front of Davis who suddenly dropped to the deck.

The other two KoQ jerked, looking from their fallen comrade and to the armored Humans.

“Release him,” one of them demanded, holding up a hand towards Paul and knocking the Archon off his feet and onto his butt with some kind of invisible punch that his armor’s shields did not pick up.

Jason didn’t wait, launching himself over the wall towards the two standing KoQ and missing a fist to one of their heads when both of them turned and pointed their hands at him, catching him mid dash and holding his feet a few inches off the ground. They couldn’t fully control him, with his arms coming in close to his body as a ripple of distortion surrounded him, then released to blow both KoQ away from him, simultaneously breaking their grasp.

When his feet hit the ground he launched at one of them, meaning to tackle and pin his arms down but he never got there, for a shield of hexagons suddenly flashed around the KoQ, with each invisible panel outlined in gold and Jason bouncing off the solid mesh of inch-wide polygons.

As he bounced another invisible grasp took hold of him and propelled him backwards across the tiny wall above which a field of hexagons formed blocking the three Humans off from the three KoQ as the army of support troops rushed up to surround Davis and pull him back behind the two pink-clad trailblazers.

“Stop,” the big KoQ said before further fighting could occur. “It is clear we underestimated your potential. We have come here to negotiate, not fight. And if we do not return from this vessel it will be destroyed.”

“Do not use your powers again,” Paul warned. “Else the talking will be over.”

“Agreed,” the one on the far right side said, now clearly taking the lead. “It is imperative that we see this Chixzon. I do not care what other relations you have with the races assembled here, but you must let us have access to him.”

“For what purpose?”

“We have questions that need answering.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jason said, making it clear that they weren’t going to get what they want.

The middle KoQ sighed, then sucked in a slow breath. “Patience,” he advised, though it was clear he was talking to his peers. “This race may be intelligent enough to understand.”

“As you wish,” the one on the right deferred.

“We are the Knights of Quenar,” the one in the middle said, looking at Davis who had quietly stepped up just behind the two trailblazers with the multi-colored armors surrounding him in a living wall on all other sides. “The last survivors of the Traelix. Our ancestors were among those whom you refer to as the Ancients. They and their allies fought and destroyed the Chixzon, imprisoned their living weapons, and were rewarded for their tireless sacrifices with betrayal at the hands of those whom they had protected. Few survived the purges that followed, hiding away in the darkest corners of the galaxy and forgoing any attempt to reclaim their previous territories and glory. They had only two priorities. Vengeance came first.”

“They destroyed over time all those who had betrayed them through indirect means, striking as phantoms and using a great many methods that we do not hold to. When their vengeance was sated, many left to live out their lives in a manner of their own choosing. Some to rebuild a shred of what was lost, others to simply coexist with the rubble of the galaxy that remained. An elite few swore an oath to a greater cause, and part of that cause was to ensure that the Chixzon were destroyed and that their living weapons were contained and never allowed to be misused. The Knights of Quenar were formed and to this day that Oath has been honored. That is why we must speak with your Chixzon.”

“If you think we’re going to let you kill him,” Paul scoffed, “you’re crazy.”

“If we wanted him destroyed we would have attacked and annihilated your entire fleet to insure his death. If your claims as to his origin are accurate, then we do not wish his destruction, for while in body and memory he may be Chixzon, his inner being is not. You have been gifted with a great opportunity, and we are here to insure you do not waste it.”

“We’re open to suggestions,” Davis offered, “but not orders.”

“If you are wise, no orders will be necessary,” the KoQ answered amicably.

“What exactly do you want to ask him?”

“You have said that he is the product of a genetic legacy designed to activate after a long period of inactivity so that the Chixzon may be reborn in a galaxy that has forgotten their transgressions. The Knights of Quenar have not, and we must insure that this resurrection does not occur. If it does, we must oppose it as soon as possible, and the knowledge your Chixzon hybrid possesses is critical to the fulfillment of our Oath.”

8

“Then let’s put that down as maybe,” Davis said neutrally, “as you explain who you are, exactly what you’re doing here, and why I shouldn’t have these two kick your ass for not keeping your invisible hands on your side of the line.”

“Our apologies,” the middle one said. “Some races we deal with would talk to no end with no result and thus require a physical impetus to begin actual negotiations. We were unaware of your skill level. We meant no offense.”

“Some taken,” Davis resisted.

“It will not happen again,” the KoQ promised.

“How long have you been monitoring this Uriti?”

“We discovered its existence and release a little over 300 years ago. We did not intervene because the races guarding it appeared to be able to contain it through constant combat. Could we have sedated it?” he guessed to his next question. “Yes, we could have, but at great cost to us. We are not a civilization, but an order. Small in number but great in skill. We stood ready to act if the containment failed and the Uriti began to spread minions. Fortunately that was not the case, for returning it to its imprisonment would have cost us most of our fleet.”

“And you only now reveal yourselves because there is something you need?”

“Blunt, but accurate. You have done the galaxy a great favor, but it is up to us to make sure this stroke of good fortune is not misused or squandered. We do not seek to steal this Chixzon hybrid from you, merely to inquire of it knowledge that we seek.”

“And if he doesn’t feel like revealing anything to you?”

“I trust my diplomatic skill to be sufficient to convince him to give us what we need.”

“Backed up by your fleet?”

The middle KoQ looked at Davis’s helmet for a moment. “We did not come here to fight, though we always hold that option in reserve. I believe we can find common purpose here if such a discussion is allowed.”

“I’m listening.”

“Our goal is to insure that the old victory is not reversed. Prior to your information reaching us, we had assumed only an outbreak of the captured Uriti would undermine it, but the revelation that the Chixzon mean to return creates an alarming new possibility that we must swiftly move to counter, thus we have come here to face it in the most direct means possible. We need to know what it is we are fighting and how to combat it. So long as you do not misuse the Uriti, we will not interfere with your possession and control of it or any others brought here. If you do misuse it, then we will be forced to act against you. Such a thing would end poorly for you…but I do not mean to threaten, only ensure that we will follow an honorable path, and that we take our Oath very seriously.”

“Where are you based?”

“That is not public knowledge,” the KoQ said as a galactic map appeared before him, highlighting a specific sector that in itself was over 500 lightyears in radius and situated more than a quarter rotation around the galaxy, “but we come from here and travel wherever necessary. With your permission, we would like to establish an enclave here to monitor this Uriti and prevent anyone from tampering with it or the Chixzon. I can assure you that our forces are far more formidable than any others that have so sworn their allegiance to safeguard this Preserve.”

“Trust takes time,” Davis advised. “Do not seek to rush it.”

“The galaxy does not afford us unlimited time, and if the Chixzon are returning we need to maximize what we have of it. The Knights of Quenar cannot fight a reborn Chixzon empire. We are only strong enough to prevent its return. We must act now before we are outscaled, hence our impolite insistence that we speak with your hybrid.”

A hologram appeared beside Paul and walked in front of the three Humans, stepping over the low wall and through the invisible shield that had popped up between them earlier. Its black, rough flesh was soundless against the floor as it looked at each KoQ in turn.

“What is it you’d like to know,” Nefron’s hologram asked.

The middle KoQ nodded respectfully to Davis, then turned his full attention on the Chixzon, studying him. “Your stories were legitimate. You are most definitely reborn in body, but what is the state of your mind?”

“My mind is my own, though I retain the Chixzon knowledge and skills. I would suggest that anyone else going through the transformation would be lost. I barely survived, but am now in no danger of losing myself.”

“How did you survive?”

“The Archons did not give up on me, spending a great deal of time and effort to trick me into thinking my way out of the problem. My instincts are Chixzon, and one thing we do not suffer is to be inferior. They goaded me into turning my newfound culture against my programming. Once a wedge was opened I was able to do the rest. I do not serve the Chixzon, yet I am Chixzon in every way that matters. The Uriti will obey me, and I am loyal to Star Force. Neither fact will change.”

“How much time do we have before others are reborn?”

“I cannot say for certain, only that my transformation was hastened due to Star Force’s curiosity. Natural progression will occur eventually, but such a thing was not evident in this region. I cannot speak of the others across the galaxy.”

“Did the Chixzon seed only specific regions?”

“No, they seeded it all. There was to be no possibility of oversight or negligence. None were guaranteed to survive, thus the seeding had to be thorough and subtle.”

“Will you tell us what your previous race was?”

“So you can do what with them?”

“Prevent them from transforming.”

“How?”

“The same method you have claimed to use. Removal of their legacy genetics.”

“That decision resides with the Star Force Director.”

“And what are their plans upon arrival in a galaxy that has all but forgotten them?”

“To quietly gather and hide while they assess the situation and the means needed to resume their quest for domination. They will not make the same mistake twice.”

“You refer to the sedative or the Uriti?”

“I refer to them overreaching. When the sedative was used, they had no contingency plan. They will not operate without one again.”

“There is much I would ask you, but the pertinent question now is one of trust,” the KoQ said as he looked back at Davis. “We have not made a good impression other than to demonstrate that we have powers comparable or superior to your own. I am curious as to yours, but for the moment I will ask what you would have us do to prove ourselves worthy of association?”

“Wait your turn,” Davis said simply, offering no other explanation.

A small curl of his lip denoted what the Human thought was a smile, but no other reaction was forthcoming. “That shall be our penance for hastiness. I trust that you will not delay in countering the threat that you have intimate knowledge of.”

“If you wish to begin gaining trust, I suggest you do not hide your ships when in this system unless there is combat.”

“Your last caveat is noted, and we agree to your terms. Is there anything else you require?”

“An explanation.”

“Of what in particular?”

“What the end result of you coming here is expected to look like.”

“We wish to assist with the establishment of this Preserve and the collection of Uriti. If you can successfully keep them here, we will utilize your good intentions to aid our own. Our ships will patrol and guard this region against interference along with your own while we also pursue greater knowledge of our enemy from your Chixzon and seek out any vestige of their genetic legacy in order to purge it before they can return.”

“And what happens if you find out they already have returned elsewhere?”

“We fight them to the last.”

“What have you been doing previously, other than watching over sleeping Uriti?”

“We have a variety of tasks, but none as important as this. We seek out injustice and bring it full circle. Many of us will make individual pilgrimages across the galaxy on individual quests to aid in our own development. Most of what we do occurs behind the scenes. We do not have a public face, and only show ourselves to you now as a courtesy and as a testament to our seriousness involving the matters at hand.”

“A history for us to review would be helpful.”

The middle KoQ spread his hands wide in an accepting gesture. “Then that is what you shall have. Time is of great importance, but haste can be equally as destructive as hesitancy. I apologize for the altercation here and our lack of etiquette. We will provide you with sufficient data to appraise us and we will leave you to deliberate how you wish to proceed. Once we transmit the data we will wait until you are ready to further discuss matters. Your empire is far more powerful than we estimated and we do not wish to make unnecessary enemies. Had we known we would have taken a less direct approach. I trust in your wisdom in this matter, and bid you farewell for now if you would be willing to lower the barriers and allow us to depart.”

Davis sensed this was as much a test as anything else, so he quietly lowered the normally invisible barriers via a helmet command. The Knights of Quenar nodded respectfully and turned away, obviously able to see the shields go down via some unidentified manner…and that too was a bit of communication between the two parties.

The Archons stayed put until the KoQ had left through the airlock, then Davis tapped Jason on the chest twice and left.

Paul immediately felt a battlemeld prompt from Jason and accepted it, then with their combined senses scanned every inch of Davis’s armor as he departed as well as the chamber and the other occupants while technological sensors built into the walls did the same. In the end nothing was found having been left behind, but that wasn’t proof enough given how different this new race and their technology operated.

Eventually Paul and Jason found their way back to the observation deck absent their armor where Davis was already involved in an animated discussion with Riley and Nefron, both whom were transmitting via holo from the Zeus.

“No, they knew,” Riley insisted. “And I highly doubt they were scared off. They might have been spooked a bit by our psionics, but they didn’t act like they were at a disadvantage.”

“I agree,” Paul said as the pair entered the room. “They didn’t expect us, but they weren’t exactly overawed.”

“Nefron,” Davis urged.

“As I was saying,” the Chixzon reiterated, looking at Paul and Jason, “these Knights of Quenar are considerably different from the Traelix and not located in the same region. Genetic samples obtained from the air filters confirm this. I believe they are descended from Traelix, but there has been significant reworking of their genetic code since the war. At the time the Chixzon fought them they were traditional quadrupeds. This new configuration is odd, but biomechanically offers several advantages. I believe they have been upgrading themselves through deliberate alteration during the time when the Chixzon were waiting out the galactic ravages. It is precisely this type of enemy the Chixzon wanted to avoid, and the time spent stagnant locked in genetic code has allowed these Knights to advance greatly.”

“Is that good or bad for us?” Jason asked.

“Bad for the Chixzon, unknown for us.”

“Still think they want to talk to you?”

“Yes. Then perhaps kill me afterwards.”

“Which is why we are never going to allow them onto the same ship with you,” Davis said, laying down the first of many ground rules to come.

“I think we need to get you out of here,” Paul said in warning, referencing the Director.

“Agreed,” Riley echoed.

Davis held up a finger. “Not just yet, but long term I think you are right. Nefron seems to be their primary angle, but my being here might worsen matters eventually with regards to the Knights of Quenar or anyone else looking to hurt Star Force. Right now, though, I’m needed to deal with this mess. If we can get it stabilized I’ll slip away back to Earth so if this system blows up, metaphorically speaking, I won’t go down with it and will be able to rally the necessary forces to avenge you,” he said with a touch of sarcasm.

“We need to get a handle on their abilities,” Paul said, trying to get his head wrapped around this. “With the V’kit’no’sat we know their playbook so we’re not afraid of them, same with the Chixzon, but these guys are a blank slate for us and that causes a lot more problems by our simply not knowing what they’re capable of.”

“How did they pick me up?” Davis asked.

“Not with Lachka or any other energy I can detect,” Paul admitted. “But I am pretty sure that whatever it was required them to emit it from their hands or arms. When physically misaligned the effect failed, so I don’t think it’s mentally generated.”

“Some sort of tractor beam,” Nefron suggested. “Possibly biological, but I’m almost certain that shield is technological. None of you made physical contact with them, correct?”

“No,” Jason confirmed.

“Then we do not even know if their appearance is accurate. They could have been wearing full body armor underneath a mimic field to give the appearance that they were unarmed.”

“If it was a mimic field then it was a skintight one,” Paul commented, narrowing down the possibilities. “The mist corresponded to the dimensions that we observed.”

“But they were wearing loose clothing,” Riley added. “Still an opportunity for hidden gadgets underneath.”

“Or within,” Davis wondered. “Cleverly concealed cyborgs?”

“Possible,” Nefron considered. “Their minds were blank. Does that mean you had access to them and they were empty or that there was no presence to locate?”

“The latter,” Jason confirmed.

“Robots?” Paul asked.

“I don’t think so,” Nefron said, “but I can’t rule it out. They did have some genetic material at least.”

“Though that could be camouflage as well,” Riley noted.

“Whatever their abilities are, they are invisible to Pefbar, Rentar has no effect, and they can pass through our shields. I didn’t try bioshields at the time, but right now we need to figure out how they’re doing this.”

“Scans of the room detected nothing,” Davis said, having confirmed as much as soon as he got back to a terminal.

“We’re in a bit over our head here,” Riley said regretfully.

“Which means our first order of business is to catch our breath and start learning,” Davis said as calmly as possible. “If they want to negotiate I can handle that. The rest of you work on learning what you can and implement as many security procedures as necessary on the Zeus to keep them from sneaking onboard.

“Already working on that,” Riley assured them. “This ship is going to become the Alamo so long as Nefron is onboard.”

“That didn’t really end well,” Paul reminded him.

“But they did do a lot of damage before they were taken out, and that’s what they’re going to have to do to get to Nefron.”

“You follow up on that obsessively,” Davis ordered. “Paul, Jason…short of picking a fight with them, work on the psionic and naval angles for any tidbits of information you can gather. I don’t know how long it will take them to assemble and transmit their historical records but…what?”

Paul and Jason were both smirking, but waved it off. “You made a joke without trying to,” Paul told him. “Go on.”

“What did I say?”

“Historical records.”

Davis thought it through, with no bells ringing. “And?”

“Old movie.”

“Send it to me later,” Davis said, curious to see what was so hilarious. “In the meantime we play as nice as we can and stall. There might be a beneficial arrangement to be hammered out with regards to the security they offered. I’m not accepting that or anything else on a whim, but with their cloaking technology no one would ever know how many of them were here or not. That could be an invaluable deterrent against interlopers if word got around.”

“Or are they just playing nice up until they get an in to Nefron and try to either take control of the Uriti,” Riley warned, “or to destroy them.”

“They should be able to do that if they’re half as advanced as they seem,” Paul pointed out. “I think we could, if we really gave it our all, and I’m not talking about using Nefron’s cheat. If they were really insistent about their Oath, whatever it actually is, they’d be killing the Uriti one by one in order to keep them from falling into the wrong hands. The fact that they watched this one while The Nine fought with it indefinitely feels odd to me.”

“Maybe they are as understaffed as they suggested,” Jason floated.

“And maybe they’re being honest,” Davis finished. “We have too many questions and too little data to work off of. So long as nothing is blowing up yet, let’s see if we can’t scrounge up some data or at least confirmations of our own while I ask a few direct questions and see if they’ll give us some freebees.”

9

January 23, 3258

Alamo System

Inner Zone

Davis sat in his quarters onboard the Sanguine Blade, sunk deep into a lounge chair as he stared aching eyes at a datapad trying to get a little bit more reading in before he went to bed. Per his request, the Knights of Quenar had supplied him with historical records. They were very shallow on detail, barely summaries of events, but there were over 6 million years’ worth of records and Davis was having trouble getting through it all. He’d already spent a couple weeks on it and was barely a third of the way through, but he was starting to understand these Knights a bit better.

The records dated back to before their founding, detailing the war against the Uriti from yet another perspective, as well as giving insight into the chaos and barbarism that occurred afterwards in the power vacuum. Those very dark times were what had initially forged the Knights of Quenar and part of their Oath was to never forget lest they allow such unbearable events to occur again. They felt, and rightly so, that what had happened to the galaxy in the aftermath of the Chixzon’s defeat was worse than anything their enemy had done. That was saying a lot, but seeing the pillars of galactic stability go down by the hands of those that had helped hold them up during the war was bound to make anyone start questioning reality.

The Traelix had lost contact with the other prime members of the Ancients after the war, but the KoQ had sought out their remains much later and were able to piece together the varying means of their demise. A few had survived, but none intact. All were weakened or destroyed to the point that the galactic landscape essentially lay barren as thousands of scavengers tore over it trying to gobble up what scraps remained, and then fought each other over those scraps.

Anything that shown the light of civilization was hit, as if there was a mob mentality that was targeting stability and order. Destruction was the appetite of the lesser races that backstabbed the greater ones, and after time passed there were so few building that the destroyers eventually bled themselves dry and the ruins of the galaxy finally knew a sickly peace as the barbarism was confined to local areas and a few bastions of sanity were allowed to survive through anonymity.

Davis could appreciate that, for it was such anonymity that had allowed Earth to survive to this day, but the KoQ hadn’t been one of them. While they did build, it was in the form of a roaming fleet that could not be targeted by the scavengers. Their resources were low, but they preserved and managed them wisely to set themselves up with a mobile base from which to begin striking back at those who had all but destroyed the Traelix in conjunction with the main spur of their civilization. Once the major fighting was over they split, continuing to seek vengeance where the other Traelix did not.

One group, the larger of the two, sought seclusion in order to begin rebuilding in the smallest of ways, hoping to create a new life for themselves and accepting the reality that their great civilization was gone and that they would have to become something else in order to survive.

The KoQ were the smaller group that did not let go the past, but likewise transformed into an elite unit that would never forget their heritage while at the same time not trying to rebuild it. They were the last of the true Traelix, and they would remain true, carrying out their Oaths and insuring that, among many things, the Uriti would not be released or threatened for release in order to leverage others.

Over the millennia that followed they fought one battle after another, usually small, precise strikes, assassinations when need. The killing aside, they essentially became Batman in that they were a planetless force that could not be pinned down that came out of nowhere to strike the unscrupulous and created more stability through sheer intimidation than they did through actual combat.

There was honor in that, but not in some of their chosen methods…and the fact that they didn’t even hide them away in their records showed that their primary motive was in accomplishing the mission rather than a sense of right and wrong. Maybe that was something that originated from their race or was a side effect of the cataclysm that befell them post-war, but it was twisting what otherwise seemed to be an honorable group into savages when the situation merited it.

Then again, Davis had only got through a third of the records, so maybe the more recent ones showed a change in behavior. Right now he was just beginning to get to the part about them finding the need to augment themselves in order to balance the odds when in engagements where they were vastly outnumbered. Their population was small and they did not reproduce fast, though Davis thought that was more out of cultural bias than biology.

The KoQ housed their non-Knights in various facilities, some of which provided industrial support while others were in training to earn their status as Knights. Davis got the sense that there was a stigma associated with the non-Knights and for that reason that part of their pocket civilization was not developed further. After 6 million years they could have regrown to the size of their previous Traelix civilization but they hadn’t, rather focusing on advancement rather than repopulation.

And it seemed that the other surviving Traelix had so abandoned their past that they were now nothing more than a shadow of their former selves, fitting in with the other races of the galaxy and not possessing the technological or cultural heritage that the KoQ carried on…though heavily modified as the Knights pushed to make improvements and changes that ultimately led to the fulfillment of Oaths that seemed to have no end in sight.

There was a knock on his door, with Davis reaching out his limited telepathy to discover who was on the other side. He telekinetically flicked the open button and the narrow door slide aside to let Paul enter.

Davis sighed and tossed the datapad onto a side table. “I could say they swamped us with data, but in truth there’s very little here other than an overview. Please tell me you’ve got something.”

Paul pulled the chair from Davis’s comm station over to him and sat down on it in the reverse position, lounging his arms on the backrest. “I’ve been talking with one of them, remotely, concerning their naval abilities with regards to protecting the Preserve. They were considerate but careful not to give too much away, but I’ve got a nagging suspicion that they don’t fight much.”

Davis raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I don’t think those are warships. I think they’re mobile field bases.”

“All of them?”

“They can fight if needed, and I’d guess they’re heavily armed. I did get out of them that they do have capture weaponry so it wouldn’t be necessary to kill everyone that came into the Preserve without a ticket, but the way this one talked was more like, and I hate to misuse the term here, but that they operated more like Jedi.”

“I can vouch for the Force choke part.”

Paul frowned. “Did they touch your body or your armor?”

“Actually,” he said, trying to remember, “I think it was my armor, but it got past my shields.”

“Could be intentional or a limitation,” Paul speculated, but moved on. “Their ships are powerful and when grouped together like this can really hurt you, but I think they’re used more for intimation and carrying around their Knight teams. More transports than anything. I think most of their operations are infantry, with a good portion of them being diplomatic. They’ll reason first, apply pressure second, and fight navally last. I don’t think they’re used to having to go to that third option, and I don’t think they’re set up to replace losses. Have you found a size for their operations in all of that?”

“Nothing specific. I figured you had already gone through it, Sav and all.”

“I skimmed, but didn’t find anything too useful. Most of it is boring as hell.”

“I’ve got a lot left to go through, but I think I’m starting to get a feel for them. They’re used to getting their way and being the intelligent one amongst a galaxy of trolls, so if you consider that with regards to their meeting with us what does that tell you?”

“They don’t like wasting time.”

“I picked up on that too in conjunction with the ‘patience’ suggestion. It’s like they know the proper course of action and will allow us some measure of time to come to that conclusion. If we don’t they force the issue. Standard protocol, and not too dissimilar to the way you operate at times.”

“You don’t get out much then,” Paul lightly reprimanded him. “I got the vibe that it was a ‘do as you’re told or suffer the consequences’ theme rather than a ‘you can’t touch this’ one.”

“Is that what you use?”

“It varies, but I do agree that at least the big one was impatient…until we showed that we weren’t pushovers.”

“I think that altered events here considerably, and not just for diplomacy sake. They may be afraid of what you can do because they don’t understand it either, and even if they’re confident of this situation we have an empire that could hold similar skills. I think they’re treading carefully until they get a better grasp of who they’re dealing with.”

“And then?”

“It depends on whether or not they welcome additions to the elite class or are threatened by them. Their dismissal of the issue of Uriti control is curious though.”

“If the Chixzon come back they can make more of them, as far as they know. Stopping that is the greater priority.”

“I think it’s more than that,” Davis said as a thought hit him. “What if they’ve gotten bored?”

Paul looked at him for a moment then caught on. “And our revelation of an ancient Chixzon plan to rebuild suddenly makes them relevant again. Those born after those times are loyal to something they can never touch, but now it’s real, the threat is real, and they’re…eager?”

“Patience,” Davis reiterated. “In that light it makes a great deal more sense.”

“Watching the sleeping dogs isn’t all that fun.”

“More to their Oath. Have you read it?”

“Yes. Pretty standard stuff.”

“But it’s all in the past. There’s nothing to look forward to. They’re maintenance keeping the floors clean and patrolling in front of the locked safe not knowing if there’s even anyone capable of cracking it. Now they know they’ve been dupes all this time and their great enemy was not truly defeated. The war isn’t over like they thought, so now their Oaths have considerably more meaning.”

Paul held up a finger. “They never rebuilt.”

“Exactly. Their heads are still in the war, trying to cling to the conflict and their race’s former glory rather than starting anew. The conflict with the Chixzon was not a short one. It literally defined the Traelix and the other Ancients. It made them defacto rulers over the other alliance members and placed upon them a great burden of responsibility as well as glory. They have clung to that glory, and rebuilding would put the emphasis on current events requiring them to let go of the past.”

“And now they hear from us that the war isn’t over. Round 2 may be about to start.”

“I think so,” Davis said, mentally sifting through permutations. “I think we can use that.”

Three days later Davis walked up to the shallow wall in the middle of the arena and stood face to face with only one Knight of Quenar. It was the one that had been middle of the row on the first occasion, but today he was alone and so was Davis…aside from a fully armored Paul that stood beside him. The Director wore no armor, but the shield was up and separating them from the get-go this time, offering an invisible barrier of protection against a lot of threats, but not against the KoQ’s Force-like ability.

That was why Paul was still here, as backup, but otherwise Davis wanted this meeting as low key as possible.

“Thank you for speaking with me personally again,” the Knight said agreeable. “I do not believe we introduced ourselves before. My name is Keez.”

“I have been reading your historical records, Keez, and I trust you’ve done considerably more research on us by this point?”

“We have made inquiries. Your Star Force makes a great deal of information public, though certain aspects of your skillset have remained well hidden,” he said with a glance at Paul’s opaque helmet.

“We’re fair and open, but we like to keep some of our strength hidden. Telling a potential enemy all your assets is an invitation for them to counter you.”

“Despite the actions of my fellow Knight, we did not come here as enemies,” Keez apologized again. “He misunderstood your hesitancy as one of obstinacy rather than calculation. Am I right to assume you have asked me here to negotiate?”

“You are. Your ultimate goal is to prevent the Chixzon from returning?”

“If we are so fortunate, yes. If they are already here we must locate and destroy them in their infancy.”

“If I told you what race holds their genetic legacy, how would you proceed?”

“We would eradicate that legacy wherever we found it.”

“By committing mass murder?”

“As a last resort. If the Chixzon are allowed to return they would kill far more.”

“Unacceptable,” Davis said firmly. “Defeating the enemy is pointless if you become one yourself. Tagging the Chixzon as the enemy is foolishness if you do not have a reason for doing so.”

“And you ask what is our reason? They seek to conquer the galaxy and subjugate it to their will, destroying those who will not yield and any they deign for other reasons.”

“And if you kill people for reasons you deign, how are you not an enemy?”

“I would say that is because it is a means to a greater end, but I see your logic. You do not want to take dishonorable action and see that the methods are as important, if not more so, than the outcome.”

“Yes, we do.”

“That is not totally without merit, but if you hold back what needs to be done and are destroyed because of that hesitancy your ultimate goal is for naught. There will be no one left to check the unscrupulous from running rampant. Sometimes dishonorable acts must be taken to prevent far greater ones from occurring.”

“We have an old saying. Death before dishonor.”

“Honorable, but potentially shortsighted.”

“We don’t compromise on that which matters.”

“But you barter away the future for the sake of the present.”

“The future is only speculation and never truly exists. Everything exists in the present.”

“Well said, but there are many circumstances where a clean outcome is impossible.”

“We are committed to facing those circumstances without contributing to the filth, even if we cannot prevent it from occurring.”

“And you wish to know if we can abide by these standards here?”

“This is our territory, and it is us who hold the leash on the Uriti.”

“And the identity of this poisoned race.”

“Killing them off is unacceptable.”

“What alternative is there if you do not provide the inoculation? Monitoring them and killing those who transform?”

Davis smiled. “Do you really think we haven’t already considered the problem?”

The Knight’s muzzle rose slightly. “You have found multiple solutions?”

“We possess the Chixzon knowledge of how the genetic coding was constructed. With it, we have created a means to remove that coding without harming the individuals who possess it. It is not suppressed, but erased. Suppression is much easier, though we prefer that the ‘poison’ is destroyed while sparing the innocent carriers.”

“Such a method would be greatly preferable.”

“We have already been inoculating those colonies that we have discovered and are working with other races that have a reach beyond ours to do so as well. The question is, can we trust you to do the same?”

“Our goal is to stop the Chixzon. If we have to kill to do it, then so be it. But we would prefer a less treacherous method.”

“Then we will discuss that matter at a later time. What is your position on this Uriti and the others?”

“We are still observing your control. You are testing its limits and thus far it appears you have a firm grasp on the beast. So long as that remains the case and the Uriti stays within this preserve, we have no qualms with you maintaining possession of it.”

“But you would prefer if they were destroyed?”

“The cost of doing so would be too great…unless you know another way?”

“Cost aside, they are living beings enslaved by the Chixzon. We respect their right to live and are establishing this preserve as much to aid them as to protect the rest of the galaxy.”

“With there being no way to rid the galaxy of their coreward kin, it makes little difference so long as we can be assured that a renewed Chixzon race cannot claim control over them again. How firm is your control over this one if it were to receive orders from afar?”

“The orders would appear to be the same, and I can tell you that there can be none given from afar. The Chixzon required a ship in system to issue orders.”

“Did they? We rarely saw their vessels at all save for the last stages of the war. How complex are these orders?”

“Directional mostly. Go there, destroy that planet, spread minions here. There are no complex chained orders possible, but a region can be denoted for destruction and the Uriti will figure out how to adapt and make it happen.”

“They set loose their creations and let them mark their own path within the bounds of a single order,” the Knight said almost reverently as he referenced the past, “with no threat to themselves in the process.”

“If another Chixzon were to enter this system and transmit orders, they would be equal to our own. The Uriti would not know the difference.”

“Can you rework this one to accept only yours?”

“No. Such things can only be changed during the developmental process. Once grown and released, the Chixzon do not control the Uriti. They only guide them. They cannot be recalled for alterations or captured again.”

“Such power is difficult to reign in even by their masters. What would happen if two contradictory orders are given?”

“The most recent one takes priority.”

“So the only way to ensure that the Chixzon do not claim them again is to put them into your possession, and make sure that your control ship remains intact. Is there no way for you to create redundancy? If this hybrid of yours dies, what happens then?”

“One reason we have brought the Uriti here is to study it and seek alternative methods of control, or at the very lease communication. At the moment only Nefron can control it. It is our goal to find a redundancy without putting another through the transformation process. We will not allow the Chixzon transformation process to occur again, for fear of losing the individual and creating an enemy within our midst. We were fortunate that Nefron had the internal will to break free of the genetic shackles. There is no way for us to cultivate the process. We have one Chixzon that is reliable, and that is all we will ever have. We will not gamble on others.”

“While some would argue otherwise and simply kill off those who did not prove loyal, I am in agreement. Your hybrid is but one and apparently loyal to you, therefore not a threat. Even if he were to rebel, he could not rebuild his race. If we allow more than one to be reborn, then the probability of collusion increases dramatically.”

“I can vouch for his loyalty. He is Star Force, not Chixzon.”

“You refer to your ability to read minds?”

“That is not our only method of verification, but it is a primary one. The Chixzon cannot block our telepathy, though they do possess some of their own.”

“Do they now? That is something we never knew. And you are doubtlessly wondering why you cannot read my mind?”

“I am curious.”

“We have dealt with telepathic races before, often to our disadvantage. We have learned not to trust them, and have developed an ability to block their sight of our own minds. Perhaps that is why you are distrustful of us. You cannot easily verify our intentions.”

“You are more of a mystery than others.”

“And that will remain the case in many areas, but there is common ground here for us to negotiate on and you have already given us valuable information. In return we will respect your wishes regarding any actions within this Preserve, as discussed previously with Paul,” Keez said, briefly glancing at the Archon. “We offer our assistance with security, but we will not kill any who break your designated lines.”

“In principle we accept, but there is a great deal of refining and familiarizing that we must do before we can establish a stable working relationship.”

“I appreciate your candor and your wisdom. Such things are unfortunately rare within this galaxy. How would you like to proceed?”

10

March 9, 3260

Unnamed System

Hamorit/Uriti containment planet

“The last transport is away,” the Chamra representative said via holo to the Zeus command nexus where Riley stood. “The Oracle components are also onboard.”

“Can the rest of you confirm?” the Archon asked the assembled 7 races that still remained loyal to the cause, with the Yisv being notoriously absent, though they were devoting resources to the construction of facilities in the Preserve and engaging in scouting missions around and within Trinx territory in the build up to what would eventually be the reckoning that their former ally had fated themselves with. That said, they still wouldn’t come near a waking Uriti, so they were seen as a secondary member in this new partnership that Star Force now led.

“All Sety assets are clear.”

“We are evacuated,” the Bpret acknowledged.

“All Dati have been removed.”

“Jonstar assets are outside the danger zone.”

“The Domu are likewise clear.”

“We are at a safe distance,” the Breti said, finishing their final checks.

“Alright Nefron,” Riley said to a hidden hologram that only he could see. “Work your magic.”

“I’m going to take this slow,” he advised. “I’m not sure what its mental state will be when it wakes.”

“No rush,” Riley assured him as he checked the status on the KoQ ships. They were holding position in high orbit ready to dive in and assist if needed or to intercept anyone entering planetary orbit. There were only 8 of them here, but the Archon knew they possessed more firepower than any other ship present ton for ton and by a wide margin. A recent weapons demonstration in the Preserve under controlled conditions had confirmed that, giving Star Force and everyone else a none too subtle warning about not messing with them or the neutral zone around the Uriti systems that they had been tasked with monitoring and enforcing in a number of locations.

Star Force was taking the others while limited backup from The Seven and two newcomers called the Shestive and the Lordax were present in the Alamo System for added security where the Uriti had been ordered to take a dip in the star and stay there for a protracted period of time while the Zeus took this little field trip. Shorter tests of the Zeus’s absence had been successful, so both Star Force and the KoQ had decided it was an acceptable risk to leave in order to retrieve the more or less exposed Uriti that The Seven had kept a decent fleet defending.

Riley watched as the status readouts on Bahamut shot up near the danger zone. The sedative was no longer flowing from the shell reserves, and combined with the light prodding signals coming from Nefron the giant Uriti was beginning to stir with a few visible twitches on the monitors. Its pale yellow wing bent slightly, then its snout tipped up a fraction followed by a light roll to one side, but beyond that it didn’t show any sudden signs of waking.

True to his word, Nefron kept the process slow. The Uriti gradually came back to consciousness, then when it finally flushed its senses and found itself ensnared in a giant cage it rose up on its four massive legs and stretched out its wings that nearly touched the sidewalls. Bahamut was some 24 miles long snout to stubby tail tip, and had a wing span of some 38 miles. It wasn’t until the Uriti stretched them out that Riley’s mind truly comprehended their thickness, for they were more than 3 miles of rocky-like flesh that could never have hoped to propel the beast through the air or any other medium.

Instead, when Bahamut stretched them out an energy field formed on top of them, pooling in place until it became like wispy green smoke, then there was a flash upwards and out that a moment later destroyed the monitor everyone was watching. Riley’s view switched to an external one above the dig site where the earth had suddenly become no firmer than dust that was blown off the broken remains of the Ancient shell as the Uriti rose up from it with its wings stretched straight out to either side and not moving, looking for all the world like anti-grav generator or, as a more accurate analysis would dictate, weapons arrays.

“How we doing?” Riley asked just before Bahamut began to climb out of the subsurface crater and head for orbit.

“Cardosan is proceeding to the designated coordinates,” the Chixzon replied gravely, “but its vitals are cascading to the negative. Its slumber was far more costly than Namishta’s.”

“Recoverable I assume?”

“I think so. But it will take a few decades at minimum to get it back to full strength.”

“Time we have,” Riley reminded him. “What kind of speed is this guy going to be able to manage?”

“Less than we thought.”

The trailblazer frowned. “Very well. Slow and steady it is then.”

“Namishta will hold position. Don’t worry about that.”

“First time without a babysitter.”

“Not as far as it knows.”

“Are you sure this one won’t eat the other one?”

“As sure as I can be. They’ve never actually encountered another Uriti before. I would guess base instincts will take over and they’ll group together by choice.”

“And if not?”

“We see if they’ll listen to a stand down order.”

“Lovely,” Riley said, switching his comm back over to the assembled holograms. “It looks like Bahamut is accepting our commands. You and your ships are hereby relieved. Proceed according to other assignments.”

“We stand relieved,” the Sety commander said, with all but a handful of their defense ships starting to head around planetary orbit to another jumppoint and keeping their distance from Bahamut. Likewise the Dati, Bpret, and Breti departed with the majority of their fleets to head back to their own territories. The Chamra and Jonstar fleets, on the other hand, moved into escort formation around the Zeus and its existing guardians, adding their firepower to that which had already been assigned to the Preserve whereas the other races had more pressing needs for them…especially the Sety who were rumored to be hanging onto several sectors within The Nexus by spit and baling twine.

Over the past year relations between the Sety and Star Force had improved considerably, so much so that Davis had told him that the Sety were in desperate need of stability and that if Bahamut was able to be brought back to the Preserve and could coexist with Nami and the restrictions placed upon them, then the Sety were going to purchase several systems in the region to begin establishing trade posts and small colonies in an effort to further link The Nexus and Star Force economies together.

The Sety needed a foothold in the growing Star Force markets, as well as affording them to contacts that existed outside of their own maps that made use of the Star Force transit and commerce systems. The basic idea was that the Sety, and several other Nexus members, could set up shop and not have to worry about security because it was in Star Force territory. They could build without having to devote ships to defend it, and the arrangement being considered by Davis had specified just that. They wanted to slowly cultivate an economic foothold while leaving Star Force to provide security in exchange for a number of other concessions, one of which was to allow some low key member states, such as the H’kar, the choice of leaving The Nexus to join Star Force without having to suffer the penalties that such a break with the others had been promised to entail.

Davis had informed Riley via a message, now that he was back on Earth, that offloading a few minor members that couldn’t contribute to the greater whole of The Nexus was being seen as a blessing rather than an insult, though had their tenuous position not be verging on a major embarrassment they would not have considered such a concession. They weren’t desperate just yet, but a lot more things were being allowed on the table and they were finding a useful trading partner in Davis because he wasn’t just squeezing them to get anything and everything out of them that he could, he was negotiating deals that would benefit both parties.

That was what had truly turned the Sety around, above and beyond the fact that the Uriti were now no longer their constant burden. There was even talk of moving all the others to the Preserve if this one proved successful, and as far as the Sety were concerned it was no longer a matter of pride, it was a responsibility that they were more than eager to pass on to someone else, and that was also a point of negotiation that Davis was using. If they were to get the Uriti that the Sety had possession of, Davis was going to get something in return for it, though that and many other deals were still only on the drawing board, the first of which was dependent on whether or not Bahamut could play nice with Nami and stay within the borders.

With the first stage of the experiment a success, Riley and the others watched as the giant Uriti made its way to the jumppoint and then over to the star. The Knights of Quenar sent their ships ahead first, then the Zeus and its escorts followed Bahamut out of the system to begin the slow trek over to the Preserve that was fortunately much closer than the last time they did this. It’d still take months to get there, but it was just next door compared to some of the Uriti that the KoQ had identified almost half a galaxy away.

The fleets that parted ways with the group traveled out on individual jumplines headed back to different home territories, but one system out the Sety ran into a waiting Yisv fleet of considerable size, informed them of the successful waking and removal of the Uriti, then continued on. The Yisv then traveled back to the now broken shell and landed their people on the surface to begin cleaning up the wreckage to insure that no one else happened along and collected the materials and technology of the Ancients. There were enough technologically advanced enemies for them to face as it was, and they didn’t need any more upgrading themselves by reverse engineering or salvaging the large sections of the shell facility that were below the blast radius.

There were several ships here already there that fled upon their arrival, and one of which had recovered a party sent down to the surface. The Yisv didn’t know what they had gotten, if anything, but they insured there would be no coordinated excavation of the rubble other than their own, carefully collecting and cataloging each piece that they then spirited away on their ships back to their own territory. They’d never been a caretaker of a Uriti facility, for obvious reasons, and while others had been able to study the technology in detail they never had…until now.

So their volunteering to clean up the site had been automatic and welcomed, for the rest of the races were ready to be done with the Uriti if at all possible, and were more than willing to tick this system off their ‘to protect’ list.

When the Zeus returned to the Alamo System behind Bahamut it was just in time to see a massive burst of radiation hit his ship. From the sensors that he was linked into via the command nexus he knew it wasn’t damaging, but the origination point was obviously Bahamut. The burst was consistent with observed behavior of Nami after her release from confinement, only this wave was much smaller.

Riley checked ship status reports for his escorts and a few others that were nearby, finding they were all still operational save for a few sensor arrays being blown out on automated sentry pylons set in low stellar orbit that allowed all blind spots around the stars to be monitored constantly. Before Riley could get bombarded with questions, Nami’s signature within the smaller star began a rapid rise, eventually coming up out of the stellar material aglow with recently stored energy that gradually faded as it moved further into the coldness of space…which was odd considering how much energy the Zeus’ shields were having to block to keep the hull plates from getting scorched.

That was just another example of how foreign the Uriti were, literally existing in the same universe but in totally different pockets of it.

When Nami came out and into the black she headed straight for Bahamut, who likewise headed towards her. Riley wondered if this was a battle challenge or a rush to say hello, but Nefron quickly put that question to rest with a quick play by play of their registered mental stats. They were not in contention at all, but were eager to see another version of themselves for the first time.

When the two Uriti came together they almost hit each other, not able to slow down fast enough, then the two held within a couple miles of one another and just sat there basking in each other’s aura and having a very long conversation that Nefron was eavesdropping on as much as he could and gathering data with every passing second.

Hopefully listening to them talk to each other would give Star Force a clue as to how to communicate with them someday, but for right now Riley was just glad they weren’t fighting, as well as being grateful to be able to facilitate this…well, it wasn’t a reunion if they’d never met before, but they’d obviously been built to have a pack mentality and now they were finally being able to put to use that part of their psyche.

The orbit matching continued on for several hours until there was a cascade of yellow lightning that passed between the two of them in what looked like a storm that lasted for more than 10 minutes, after which nothing changed and they continued to hold close formation.

“Nefron?”

“It wasn’t an attack, but it wasn’t something the Chixzon engineered into them. Nor is it any behavior previously witnessed.”

“They only had one captive,” Riley pointed out. “Please tell me that’s not a reproductive cycle.”

“It’s not, I can promise you that much. The Uriti have been altered so they cannot reproduce, and the progenitor was asexual. Beyond that I can tell you nothing. I have no idea what just happened.”

“Take notes,” Riley urged. “With two of them together I get the feeling we’re going to be finding out a lot more about them than the Chixzon ever knew.”

www.aerkijyr.com

Resolution

1

June 30, 3272

Adriart System (Uriti Preserve)

Stellar Orbit

Nefron stood at a workstation inside the Zeus, which had become his mobile home ever since the Uriti Preserve had been established. Right now it was in system number 7 of an 11 point circuit that they were slowly parading their two Uriti around in. This system, like the others, had an established navigational course that they would run both the Uriti through in turn, as well as several construction sites on the major planet to facilitate mining operations across the Preserve.

In addition to that, there were three mobile observation stations here. None had interstellar jump capability like the sedas did, but these were fast enough to move around the system and keep out of the way of the Uriti while they housed the workers, researchers, and every other person assigned to this system to keep them out of danger should either Uriti take unpredictable action.

But to date that had never occurred. Both of them went where they were told and were getting along with each other like siblings. The command language that Nefron was using was also getting more advanced as he pressed and instructed them to do more and more delicate tasks. He wasn’t teaching them anything new, rather utilizing greater depth that the Chixzon had never bothered with in the field but had been meticulous to construct while growing the Uriti in order to obtain maximum control.

They’d never needed it when all they did was point the Uriti at a system and say ‘destroy,’ so what Nefron was doing now was really a continuation of their research rather than something new of his own. That said, this wasn’t the only project he was working on, and while direct communication between him, the Archons, or anyone else and the Uriti was still hitting a stone wall, he was getting much closer on yet another project.

The reason he could control the Uriti was because he was Chixzon and he had the specially built transmitter. The transmitter had been duplicated many times over and existed in 14 different starships within the Preserve that functioned as backups should the Zeus ever see a catastrophic malfunction, but as talks with the Knights of Quenar and The Nexus continued to bear fruit it was obvious that they were going to need to be able to control the Uriti in more than one system at the same time. Even if he wanted to keep all of them in one system, going out on retrieval missions would mean that Nefron wouldn’t be here to oversee these two, hence he needed a way to give the Archons the ability to issue orders as if they were coming from him.

Doing that meant making the transmitter and the Uriti think they were Chixzon as far as telepathy went, and it wasn’t about power or skill, for the Archons had far more of that than him. What was needed was a telepathic fingerprint that matched his own, or at least the narrow band that identified him as Chixzon, and right now he was troubleshooting the final problems in his design on a simulation program while the ship’s crew left him alone.

That was typical, for aside from Riley and a handful of others nobody ever saw him in person. His quarters and work facilities on the ship were located in a very specific region, meaning the only time he got out from there was to do workouts or eat. He didn’t avoid the crew then, but they didn’t stop him to ask questions or force interaction. A few nods of respect and they’d pass him by, leaving him to his work that never seemed to end.

He’d had a long talk with Davis before the Director had left to go back to Earth and both of them knew how important, and potentially disastrous, this Preserve project could become. Already there were more races in the Alamo System from unaligned and otherwise unknown civilizations than there were in Star Force, and more were coming in by the year. All had various agendas to push or play, but between the Star Force fleet, the Voku, and the enigmatic power of the KoQ, order had been kept and progress was being made on many fronts, but Nefron knew how fragile everything was even if it didn’t appear that way to outsiders.

Something Riley had told him long ago had stuck in his head. It was a quote from Star Wars, a little obsolete reference that the Archon had thought pertinent.

Fear attracts the fearful.

That was illogical, but over time as Nefron observed the races and representatives coming into the Preserve from his fortress of solitude onboard the Zeus he began to see the nugget of truth in that stupid statement. Fear is something that drove one off, but here these races were, coming up to look at the very beasts they dreaded. It was as if the fear was attracting them here like a narcotic. They wanted to be close to the danger without getting bit by it, which was reckless on its face, but the fact was races from across the local quarter of the galaxy’s outer rim were showing up for little more than to see the Uriti and the empire that had them under its control.

Others wanted more than that, but some appeared just to want to feel the fear and bask in it, almost daring fate to smite them down the closer they got.

And the fleet was having its hands full keeping ships to honor the perimeter range. There was always someone wanting to go closer, but at least in this system they didn’t have to worry about that very much. Almost everyone was back in Alamo while a handful of Star Force jumpships were here carrying spectators, and he knew those ships wouldn’t be violating the boundary lines. There was, however, an occasional ship that pressed further into the Preserve than Alamo, but the KoQ usually got to them before Star Force did, and they’d intercepted one Cabrari ship just a week ago.

Right now it was sitting in a higher orbit around the star with a contingent of Star Force troops onboard it as an assessment was being made of what to do with the crew. If there had been some misunderstanding they might be allowed to keep their ship. If not it would be added to the collection of trophies from various races stupid enough to violate the Preserve boundaries that were floating in a very public display orbit in Alamo to remind everyone that Star Force was taking the security of the Preserve seriously.

A lot of races had begun to respect that, as well as the fact that this place was becoming a great deal more important than they’d thought. It wasn’t just about the Uriti anymore, though that aspect was never going to diminish. There was constant wrangling and complaints about control and potential abuse of power by Star Force, but some of the other races were requesting permission to set up colonies nearby to take advantage of the crossroads that the Preserve had become. Previously it had been an undeveloped region, even when the lizards controlled it, but now there were several black hole ‘highways’ that were developing traffic spurs to this location and creating a slow link between several regions that had not seen connectivity before.

But beyond that, the location was making the connections important, and as a few savvy empires began to ingratiate themselves with Star Force and secure planets around the perimeter of the Preserve the rest of them took notice and a rush of interest and negotiations was forming that attracted even more races from afar…and all of whom were very interested to meet him.

But Star Force wasn’t allowing that, thankfully keeping Nefron out of the whole diplomatic mess while allowing him to observe it from afar. No one could get close to the command ship aside from other Star Force vessels. Even the KoQ and the Voku kept a respectful distance, but so long as he was the only one that was able to control the Uriti this ship was going to be the weak link in the entire operation, meaning that he had to find a way to give the Archons the redundant ability to issue the Uriti orders.

And he was close to it now, so close that he’d called Riley in to help him test the equipment that he hadn’t yet told him he’d been developing. When the Archon arrived, the Chixzon waved him over to an auxiliary control station with a flick of his armored hand.

“Did we get a message back?” Riley asked, referring to their endless attempts to communicate with the Uriti outside the defined channels.

“No. I just need a mind other than my own right now. Link to the console please.”

Riley did as asked, making telepathic connection with the machine via his bare hand on the panel before him and waited for whatever Nefron was going to do.

“This is the Chixzon navigational program used to direct the Uriti. Nose around it a bit and tell me what you think. It’s hooked into a simulator so you’ve got a fake Uriti to experiment with.”

“Recreated or copied?” Riley said as he mentally started to fiddle around with the alien interface.

“Mostly copied, but I reworked some of the commands into English so you’d be able to adapt to them quicker. I can rework the whole thing later, but right now I just need to know if you’re compatible. I’m scanning you as you work, so just keep busy for a while.”

“Fiddling as ordered,” Riley said as he began utilizing the simulator for some basic obstacle course runs that had a fake Nami pulling loops around a planet and its four moons.

As he worked Nefron made adjustments, fine tuning what he thought was needed to sync up the Archon’s brain to the Chixzon designs, but Riley grew bored before he had finished.

“What’s going on, buddy?”

“I’m close. Give me another 20 minutes.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“I don’t want to tell you about it unless it works.”

“Prefer to fail in private?”

“You could say that,” Nefron half agreed. “I don’t have to explain the why and how, I can just keep working the problem in silence.”

“I’ll humor you then, but this thing is pretty primitive.”

“The Uriti can’t be remote controlled, only ordered.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen you tell them to do stuff that’s more complicated than the options I have here.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t copy everything. I just needed a basic control package to work with. If this works, I’ll give you the…”

“What?” Riley asked, sensing his friend’s mind freeze in surprise.

“I just shunted your mental moniker over to the Uriti so I could get a calibration reading. I expected it to fail, but they both just accepted it.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Statistics,” Nefron said, shutting down the simulator and bringing other programming online at Riley’s station. “Try and draw status feeds from them.”

“How?”

Nefron’s mind suddenly entered the Archon’s in the form of the computer linkage that allowed him to bypass the Ikrid blocks. With his help Riley was able to navigate mental program controls he had never seen before, catching on quickly as the Chixzon guided but did not do any of the tasks himself. Within a few minutes Riley felt the raw feeds coming in from the Uriti as they were shunted to the display on his control panel.

“Hello, fellas,” the trailblazer said, recognizing their massive yet obtuse intellects emanating out from the star they were currently bathing in. A prompt from Nefron and Riley tried to connect to them directly with a simple order.

Suddenly their minds opened to him for brief moment, both of them acknowledging the order and beginning to climb out of the star to a point in low orbit. Both Riley and Nefron watched as they came out, neither asking questions, then when both Uriti stopped exactly where Riley had told them to Nefron let out a long sigh as he sank back onto a nearby stool.

“Finally.”

“What the hell did you just do? Find a way for me to piggyback onto your signal?”

“No. I found a way to give you your own. I didn’t think it would work yet, I just wanted the data from the attempt. It seems I was closer to the solution than I thought.”

“Enlighten me,” Riley said, eager to hear what he’d come up with.

“I was going to try and create a bit of Chixzon brain tissue for you guys to give to whomever you trusted enough to give orders to the Uriti, but I eventually nixed that when I realized you wouldn’t want any more tissue crammed into your already thick heads. Especially some that wasn’t your own.”

“Good call there. Would that have worked?”

“If I could engineer it to be a modifier for the rest of your brain activity, yes, I think so. What I’ve done here is to create a mechanical version of the same thing. This machine is calibrated to you and you alone. It’s crude, but apparently functional. Right now it’s the size of a dropship underneath the floor, but over time I think I can reduce that greatly by further tightening the requirements down to a single individual. Basically, I’m hoping that I can create a palm-sized control device that will make the transmitter and the Uriti think that your telepathy is coming from a Chixzon, and one who has all the proper identification codes.”

“Wait. Not all Chixzon can order the Uriti?”

“All the new ones can, but the originals couldn’t. There was a very selective group given that power.”

“Secret passwords?”

“Metaphorically speaking, yes. And I’ve created this adaptor to include them.”

“And it’s tuned for me?”

“You’re the only person I’ve spent enough time with to have an idea of how your mind works. I was making a lot of educated guesses based on our prior contact. I didn’t expect to get the balance right so soon, otherwise I would have let you know what was going on. I expected this to take months, if not years from this point. I may have just gotten lucky, in which case I’ll have to analyze what I’ve done and figure out what works and why, but for the moment you have at least a limited ability to control the Uriti through the current equipment and settings.”

“Meaning you can transfer to another ship with a transmitter and we can go two places at the same time.”

“Exactly.”

“How long before we can test that?”

“Not long, assuming this wasn’t a fluke. It’s the refining that’s going to take time.”

“Down to something handheld?” Riley reiterated.

“Or a forearm gauntlet, if you’d prefer. It’s going to be a bit heavy at best, but you should be able to wear it.”

“Archons only?”

“Strong telepathy is required.”

“Protovic?”

Nefron considered. “I don’t want to start there, but that’s a possibility.”

“Ok, so let me get this straight, just for the record,” Riley said with a blossoming smile. “You just figured out how to create a remote control for the Uriti?”

“As I said before, you cannot remote control it, you can only give it orders.”

“Semantics. This device allows me to order it the same way you do?”

“In theory, yes. All we have is a single test for confirmation.”

Riley jumped into the air doing a twirl with a triumphant fist raised. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

“It should end Star Force’s reliance on this ship…and me.”

“Tired of being stuck here?”

“Tired of not being able to leave. A lot of my work is going to be here regardless.”

“I hear that. We both need to be here right now, but once this place develops I really don’t want to have to be stuck here endlessly. Got asses to kick elsewhere.”

“I actually prefer that sentiment to others I was considering.”

“So right now it’s you and me in the controller club?”

“You’re barely in it, but yes. It will take me a long time to refine this for you and even longer to do it for another person. I suggest we keep this quiet for now, else someone might realize they’re on the clock to eliminate this ship and me before we create the redundancy.”

Riley cringed. “Good point. Guess we better hold off on that split test then.”

“No, we can still accommodate it with some guile. I’ll have to be transferred to another control ship while you take this one out of the system with one of the Uriti. They will think the other is staying here under orders, but I’ll be here to monitor it as a backup.”

“After you teach me how to drive with you looking over my shoulder first?”

Nefron’s eyes flashed green ever so briefly. “Orders. Not control.”

“It’s more than point and click,” the Archon argued. “I felt that moment of synergy.”

“It’s simply another means of communication. They choose to follow the orders. You do not actively control them.”

“Noted. Will you help me run Bahamut through the course?”

“Let’s start with something more simple while I analyze the interface. Link back in and I’ll set you up.”

“Simple how?” Riley asked, touching the panel again and getting the equipment added to his mind like another room suddenly popping into existence within a house.

“Star to planet and back again.”

“Alright, we’ll keep it simple,” he moaned sarcastically. “Is this set up to make me look Chixzon or look like you?”

“I used my profile to speed up the process, but it may be more advantageous to rework the interface from various personas tailored to be compatible with the person in question.”

“Meaning my mind is more similar to some Chixzon than others?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have others on file or would you have to synthesize them.”

“Synthesis,” Nefron said regretfully, knowing how much additional time that would take.

“Long project ahead?”

“Very, but a lot shorter now than I expected. I don’t know if what I did was smart or just accidentally lucky, but it worked the first time. Let’s see if our luck holds and it works again.”

“Teach me, Master Nefron. I is ready.”

“I do all the hard work and you get to have the fun?”

“Ha. Don’t even get me started on that. I know I’m going to be bored out of my skull letting you calibrate this thing to me.”

Nefron smiled, a slight cracking of his rock-like lips. “True enough,” he said, linking into his console and finding Riley’s mental signature inside the programming link. “Let’s begin with the basics, my young apprentice.”

2

May 2, 3285

Alamo System

Warden Station

Oro-2573 walked off the Star Force personnel ship along with hundreds of other people as it sat docked to the Warden station along with some four other ships. There were no tourists here, nor ambassadors from other empires. All of them were located in other facilities in the system, leaving the titan with high level traveling partners in the form of Archons, Commandos, and a lot of techs that were being added to the station’s complement of secretive staff.

Beside him were eleven other members of his graduating class, all 2500s, which was very odd. There’d been a recruitment call put out and he’d volunteered, but he didn’t expect to be paired up with so many familiar faces again, let alone three other 7s. Jeen-2572, Hera-2574, and Peter-2576 were only a few meters behind him as they walked across a line on the floor and into zero g, then were grabbed by an IDF field and flown across the stubby umbilical connecting ship to station and landed them gently on the other side. They easily fell back into stride with one another almost as if the millennia they’d spent apart had never happened.

The sight of 12 titans together drew a lot of curious attention, but most people were polite enough not to inquire and the few that did got the same answer from all of them…they didn’t know why they’d been brought here.

All of them were wearing their casual Archon uniforms, bone white with a single colored stripe running down either side. Their stripe was gold, but an equally white uniform was waiting for them just inside the station with a pink stripe, and standing next to it was the red/gold/white of a Duke.

“Welcome,” Pryon said graciously to the arriving titans.

“Duke,” Oro greeted evenly, then he glanced at the ViLord. “Riley.”

“Follow me,” the Duke said as he turned and began walking. The Archons fell into line behind him and the fourteen of them made their way through what was obviously a very empty station despite the number of people coming and going. Eventually they came to an armed checkpoint with a ranger and a squad of Commandos visible. They let the group through, then the Duke took them into a dead end hallway where he input a code into a locked door. It opened by sliding into the wall and allowed them all inside through the small opening.

“A lot of security,” Eaton-2503 commented as mist dropped over them in the long, narrow corridor they were forced to pass through.

“When several of the civilizations represented in this system have adequate or better stealth technology we have to be careful. Two years ago we stopped a tiny probe from infiltrating this facility because a passing Archon happened to have their Pefbar deployed. Since then we’ve created safe zones where we tightly screen everything passing.”

“Who’s was it?”

“The Fajanni. Duke Yetti made them pay for that, but there had been earlier attempts at security breaches and apparently they hadn’t been deterred, so we have to make sure this area remains locked down no matter what.”

None of the Archons said anything more until they all passed through the misty hallway and got the last of the little robots flushed off them on the far side with a wall of wind that would have made Yasuo proud. When a door slid over the scanning hallway Duke Pryon let out a slow breath.

“Safe to talk now,” he announced, checking with a nearby tech that gave him a thumbs up indicating that the scan was clear.

“What’s all the secrecy for?” Oro asked.

“Up until recently only Nefron was able to give orders to the Uriti. He was our weak link and knowing it the other empires have wanted to get access to him…either to recruit or kill. While this system appears to be tranquil, I can assure you it’s not. Tensions are running high underneath it all and only our leverage is keeping things in order. The Uriti are powerful weapons that we’re not using, but a lot of people don’t like us having that ability and would deny us our controller if they could get access to Nefron, even if it would mean the Uriti would roam free and destroy what they like.”

“Was?” Hera asked.

Pryon glanced at Riley.

“There are now two of us that can control the Uriti. I’m the second, but no one knows that yet. As far as the intergalactic community out there is concerned, Nefron is still our weak link. We’re going to make him redundant, and if they know of our plans they might act to try and stop them, for once many people can control the Uriti they will no longer have the option of mounting a swift strike to take out Nefron if needed. So our work here has to remain secret until we have all of you up and running.”

“How can you control the Uriti?” Logan-2522 asked with a curious expression on his face.

Riley looked to his left and a device floated through the air over to him and landed in his hand. He slipped it on over his wrist and snugged up the forearm gauntlet that looked decidedly V’kit’no’sat in its chrome surface and jeweled accessories, one of which glowed yellow as it touched Riley’s skin.

“With this. You can thank Nefron for the brainstorm. Only Chixzon can control the Uriti, and this makes me look telepathically like a Chixzon as far as the Uriti and the transmitter are concerned. Note the yellow light,” he said, pulling the gauntlet off and tossing it to Oro. “Put it on.”

The Archon caught and slid it onto his own left arm, seeing the light go red.

“Red means you’re not compatible. Yellow means you’re close. And green means you’re good to go. I have to modify my own telepathy into a certain range to turn it green thanks to the fact that we’re more developed than the Chixzon in that department. I have to let go of a lot and think simply, but in a very specific way that took me a long time to learn to do. Bigger ones can accommodate the alterations necessary, but we didn’t want people having to wear a backpack so we skimmed it down to the point where we do part of the adjusting ourselves and the gauntlet does the rest,” he said, signaling for it back.

When he got it he slipped it on again and closed his eyes. The yellow light, coming from a small jewel on the surface, eventually turned green. He opened his eyes and looked at the others again. “I have to focus to keep in alignment, meaning that if you’re going to talk to a Uriti you need to be in a safe place. I can’t use Pefbar or any other psionics or it’ll knock me off the mark. Remember this, because you have to basically blind yourself in order to make it work. I can’t do much more than talk to you right now, and even that is a bit of an effort,” he said, letting the light go back to yellow.

“When you’re green you can connect to the Chixzon transmitter remotely and it will work anywhere on the command ship. This station also has a transmitter, which is one reason why people want to sneak in here. While Nefron highly doubts any of them could rig up their own order-giver,” he said, preemptively throwing the Chixzon a look, “considering the lengths it’s taken us to develop these, we’re not going to take the chance. Transmitters and especially these gauntlets don’t go to anyone else, ever. The transmitters are big and stationary, but these are not. Don’t misplace them. Don’t leave them in an unsecured site. Don’t let them out of your sight, even if you’re in the shower. Wear them in with you and just hold them telekinetically in the air while you wash your arm.”

A few eyebrows raised, but Riley shook his head in the negative. “I’m not overreacting. Give those guys a shot at one and they may take it. We’ve kept this system from seeing any real fighting by keeping security tight and not giving them an opportunity to strike. Show weakness, even one lapse, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone does. And as we noted, they are trying more subtle methods of learning how we control the Uriti.”

“So we’re all going to learn to give orders to the Uriti?” Matti-2548 asked.

“Yes you are,” Pryon continued. “Nefron and Riley aren’t going to stay here forever, and keeping Nefron in an anonymous place is preferable to having him on a known ship. If someone could capture him they could conceivably build all of this again on their own. He wouldn’t help them, but they don’t know that and we can’t completely rule out someone’s ability to extract information from him. The V’kit’no’sat, for example, could simply rip the memories out of him. We can’t be sure that others don’t have the same or similar ability, so we need Nefron’s location kept a secret, perhaps not even in this Preserve.”

“And we all know how second gen,” Riley added, “like to think they can do whatever the trailblazers can do.”

“Damn straight,” Oro agreed.

“So you’re going to be my relief,” the ViLord said with a smirk. “The twelve of you are going to get a unique gauntlet that Nefron will tailor to make your telepathic fingerprint look like a Chixzon with all the right access codes. Unless you’re nearly identical you won’t be able to share them no matter how much internal focus you have. This is another reason not to lose them. They’re going to be custom made with no blueprints stored in any database for someone to hack and copy. If you need a replacement, Nefron is going to have to make you another one.”

“But remember,” Pryon insisted, “without a transmitter these gauntlets will do no good. It’s a two part system. Think of these as the access keys. And once you’re into the system, giving orders to the Uriti is far more complicated than it sounds,” he said, letting Riley explain what only he and Nefron had experienced.

“It works like a telepathic handshake, not a text message. There’s a bouncing back and forth that is required, so even if you’re on the other side of the star system you’re going to have some lag before an order can be given. The handshake is an extra security precaution the Chixzon made so that if someone monitored the signals and was able to reproduce them they still wouldn’t be able to have a password conversation that the Uriti would accept. There are a lot of layers of security involved so this isn’t something you can learn to do in a day, and fashioning the gauntlet to your personal telepathic signature takes weeks.”

“What will we be ordering them to do?” Ryan-2547 asked.

“The twelve of you are going to hold the power to control the Uriti, first and foremost,” the Duke explained. “Who you are will not be advertised, but within Star Force word will get around. You can hide the gauntlets under your sleeves to some extent, but don’t be bashful about them. We assume that eventually your identities might be discovered, but we’re going to make the competition earn that knowledge rather than by trotting you out and introducing you…though Duke Yetti has suggested we do exactly that.”

Riley shook his head. “We have to let them know there are multiple controllers, but we’ll do it through demonstrations rather than introductions. Two of you will be getting command ships of your own while one of you will be doubling up with me on the Zeus. Eventually, when we have the available resources, there will be twelve command ships with transmitters. We’re going to let them think that only the command ships can send the control signals, but we already have several warships that have been outfitted with a redundant transmitter. Four of you will be going to those and laying low as backups while the rest of you will bounce around from place to place in the Preserve. As we build more facilities there will be more opportunities to hide out and do your thing…which is something else we need to go over,” he said, deferring back to the Duke.

“There won’t be a lot of work as far as giving actual orders to the Uriti, even when we get the Sety one next year, so what I need from all of you is to assist me and the other two Dukes with running the Preserve. I need you to be ghosts roaming about looking for trouble, designing improvements, and doing your usual Archon thing. You all know each other given that you went through basic training in the same class, so cooperation should come naturally. Right now there are 37 locations within the Preserve that have a public presence, spread over 3 systems. That will eventually rise up to more than 1000 and cover all the Preserve systems aside from the neutral zone.”

Kacie-2512 whistled. “What exactly are you driving at? Tourism?”

“That’s a minor benefit, but from what we’ve learned thus far the Uriti minions have a great deal of potential. We’re going to be exploring that in depth on a pair of planets. Weapons demonstrations and other Uriti activities give the observing civilizations something to analyze and study. Embassy facilities allow the various and widely spread races to interact on matters that are not restricted to the Uriti. It may not look like it at first glance but this Preserve is a magnet for attention, and with that attention comes all kinds of leverage and power…power that others want, or want to deny to us. We are doing this for the sake of the Uriti and to protect them as much as to protect people from them, but with their presence comes those who are attracted to the power and danger they represent, so we’re going to channel as much of that into constructive means as we can. And to maintain it all I need your quiet assistance.”

“What are we planning to use the Uriti for?” Hera asked, suspecting there was more to it than that.

“Defensive leverage. If we’re the ones keeping them contained to the Preserve, people will think twice before trying to strike against us.”

“That all?”

Riley cringed. “We have been discussing other options.”

“Like blowing stuff up?”

“Both Nami and Bahamut are too crude to be used in our style of warfare, but it is somewhat possible that we could train them to the point where we could retreat a fleet back to them and dare the enemy to follow. Right now we kind of expect that the Uriti would kill both fleets if we told them to attack, but if we could arrange to have a fallback position of that magnitude it would be worthwhile.”

“Against the V’kit’no’sat?” Oro wondered.

“And others, but yeah, that was our thought. We’re not going to put the Uriti into harm’s way in an offensive, but we suspect that if the V’kit’no’sat ever find the Uriti they’re going to mark them for destruction anyway, and if we could fight together it would be a huge advantage.”

Hera smiled coyly. “Damn you. Always thinking of the good ideas before us.”

“We need more good ideas,” Pryon added. “Brainstorming improvements is going to be one of your primary tasks. The Uriti control is something you’re primarily going to sit on until a situation calls for action. When we get the Sety Uriti we will have to split up, and Riley is going to stay here while Nefron is going to help insure that it stays sedate during transport. One or more of you will go with him to observe and help if needed while the others stay and, quite frankly, just start learning. We’re all building this Preserve from scratch and having to adapt as challenges present themselves.”

“Who’s all we?” Eaton asked.

“Myself, Dukes Yetti and Ander, who handle the diplomatic and tourism side of the Preserve, Riley, and Nefron. Davis chimes in from afar as do some other trailblazers, but this is primarily our show and I’d really appreciate your guys’ help.”

“I’m in,” Oro said, with the others nodding or offering pithy agreements.

“Good,” a voice from behind a wall said that was lacking a mental position. A moment later Nefron walked into view, chilling the 12 titans for a moment on reflex. The Chixzon were intimidating to behold, even for those who knew his true origins. “Am I really that ugly?”

Riley pointed to the halo on his head and Nefron reflexively pulled it off. “Oh…guess there’s no better way to freak out an Archon than to block your mind from view,” he commented. “It’s a mobile relay that allows me to stay in contact with the transmitter on this station or onboard a ship much like your gauntlets will do, except there is no mimicry needed. It also doubles as a telepathic shield in case an infiltrator with powers like our own makes it to me.”

“How many of those are there here?” Matti asked.

“We don’t know for sure,” Pryon answered. “At least 17 are telepathic, based on our guestimates, and we truly don’t know what the Knights of Quenar are capable of.”

“Those we have to be extra careful with,” Riley warned. “Right now they’re working with us as limited allies, but their minds don’t register to our telepathy, so don’t ever trust them and always watch your back.”

3

December 1, 3286

Prenthor System (Sety Capitol)

Qitor

Nefron stood inside the Uriti chamber looking up at Nedrasil’s mass of red lobes. This one was older than the rest, having been 19th in the production line, and thus was going to probably be harder to control than the others…though to date they hadn’t had any trouble with the pair in the preserve. Right now it was doing good, slumbering while a mass of robotic workers from The Nexus literally tore apart the shell surrounding it and rebuilt it into a mobile pod without ever touching the Uriti.

The sedative feeds had to be rerouted, but so far the trickle going to it had been enough to sustain its sleep and the work hadn’t aroused it. Right now they were a few days away from completion, so technically Nefron was standing inside the pod as he watched the little machines crawling all over the inside of it to deliver the last parts needed to create a shell within a shell. They were built by The Nexus but operating under his orders, for the last thing the Sety wanted was this Uriti to wake up and threaten the impressively dense infrastructure covering the planet.

It had been evacuated just in case. A major expense on their part but Star Force was glad for their caution even though Nefron assumed it would be unnecessary. So long as the Uriti wasn’t provoked in some way it shouldn’t wake up, and thus far the machines’ activity hadn’t been sufficient to even elicit a peep in the monitoring statistics that Nefron was getting through his ‘crown’ that also doubled as protection against the telepathic aura that otherwise would have been overwhelming him.

Due to its age, Nedrasil was also larger than the other two Uriti. It measured only 32 miles in width, but unlike the others it had no legs, wings, or other body parts. It was more or less a roundish mass with dot-like lobes sprouting from it. The Archons had already named it ‘Toad,’ citing it looked like an ugly mushroom, but Nefron wasn’t going to indulge in their names. These Uriti had been around for so long with the same names there was no point in changing them, as well as the fact that it was somewhat disrespectful. He didn’t fault the Archons for it, for they didn’t have the memories he had and could never understand the full significance of what the Uriti were…and had been to the galaxy.

Nefron stayed in the Ancient shell until construction was completed, then he headed back up to orbit and boarded the Zeus where the ship’s crew would be taking control of The Nexus’s creation. They were gladly turning over all responsibility for the Uriti to Star Force, saving themselves the cost of maintaining such a large fleet in this system that could be redeployed elsewhere, so they hadn’t balked about taking on the construction costs for the custom made carrier despite the enormity of the project.

But then again, The Nexus was much larger than Star Force and had ample resources to draw on if it so wanted. This obviously was taking priority for them, and while they might be shortchanging other systems Nefron knew that the removal of this Uriti from their care would probably bring a touch of stability to the teetering civilization. A long term, unsolvable problem was getting resolved and despite the expense in the short term they knew that cost cutting going forward would be significant.

Right now there were over 8000 Nexus ships in the system not counting the civilian traffic. A little less than half of that had been here on permanent guard while the others had come from various Nexus members to assist with the security regarding the removal, for it was quite the spectacle and races from all over The Nexus were coming to see the now publically acknowledged beast taken out of their territory.

But more than that were the outsiders arriving to witness it. Some had come specifically for this so there had to be an insane amount of security. One ship on a kamikaze run that got through could crash the transport pod and wake the Uriti, which was another reason why Nefron was here. If that occurred he could order it away from the empty city and other resources that The Nexus didn’t want smashed, but he’d also have to begin the very slow journey back to Star Force territory under its own power that would take decades of travel to accomplish.

The Nexus didn’t want Nedrasil in their territory any longer than necessary and neither Star Force nor the Knights of Quenar wanted someone going after Nefron, so all three parties had a large fleet present, though the KoQ had most of their ships invisible and prowling where no one knew, save for a few sitting close, but not too close, to the Zeus to remind everyone that they were in fact here and ready to throw down if provoked.

That threat, Nefron had learned recently, had been forestalling a lot of problems back in the Preserve, and that wasn’t speculation. He’d heard it was being discussed by various outsiders amongst themselves and had the telepathic assurance from the Preema representative standing next to him onboard the Zeus that the discussions were accurate, numerous, and often quite agitated.

If this operation went smoothly the Preema were going to transfer their Uriti to the preserve as well, which was why the trailblazers had allowed them one representative here onboard the ship rather than having them send a fleet. Their involvement with Star Force was known, as was the fact that they had a Uriti, but when the time came to move theirs they didn’t want anyone else knowing about it, so an arrangement was made for one of them to tag along and have access to Nefron…though in truth it was the other way around.

Nefron was able to use his limited telepathy to get inside the Preema’s head, which it voluntarily lowered its mental defenses to allow. It was an expert on the Uriti they had and between the two of them they were finalizing the arrangement and details necessary for building a similar pod that could be flown from star to star to avoid the immense distance lag of having the Uriti fly itself to the Preserve.

But even in a pod it was going to take a lot of time to get it there, meaning they had to be escorted by a fleet and the longer it took the more time that fleet would be tied up babysitting. Their Uriti, named Barratim, was considerably smaller and therefore could be transported more easily and faster than Nedrasil, but for some reason it had a tendency to wake occasionally for reasons their Oracle couldn’t identify. Additional sedative was always applied before it could gain full consciousness, but compared to the other Uriti that Nefron had studied thus far in their imprisonments, Barratim was unique in its level of resistance to the sedative’s effects.

That was a potential disaster in the making for the Preema, and so long as they could effectively transfer it to the Preserve…and the Preserve would actually work to neutralize the threat…they were willing to commit the resources to building their own transport pod and entrusting Star Force with the living weapon, but they needed more than just promises. They’d been observing the two Uriti in the Preserve for some time now and were sufficiently convinced in Star Force’s ability to corral them there, but the part involving moving an Uriti without waking it was another matter entirely.

So they needed proof and Nefron needed information, which was why the Preema was here now with plenty of nearby Archons should he feel like getting out of line, though that wasn’t really necessary. A Chixzon could take a Preema 1v1 fairly easily.

“Are we ready?” Oro asked from Nefron’s right.

“I am. I’m leaving the disposition of the fleet to you.”

“The fleet is ready and the observers are…observing. The Sety say they’re good to go and have relinquished control of all systems to us.”

“Adequate,” Nefron said as he connected to the transmitter in the ship via his crown just in case it would be needed. “Bring it up.”

On the planet’s surface there was a deep tunnel dug into both the dirt and the rock below that led straight to the Ancients’ prison, and up through that passage a bluish/green cube arose. It passed above surface level and slowly began to ascend into orbit so not to mess with the very unaerodynamic silhouette in the thick atmosphere. As it thinned, its speed increased all the way up into a holding orbit without any reaction from the Uriti within.

“No response from Nedrasil. It’s still fully sedate,” Nefron said with a glance to the Preema. “So long as the sedative levels remain steady I don’t think there’s going to be a problem.”

The Griffin-like alien nodded its head as it watched the wall-mounted displays intently. “Good. Very good,” it said via a small headset that acted as a translator, for the Preema had no armor on given its position as guest onboard the Star Force ship.

“Looks like those observers are keeping their distance,” Oro noted dryly. “The Nexus fleet is falling into alignment and reiterates that they’ll stay with us to the edge of their territory…after which they’ll say goodbye and good riddance.”

“I assume you’re paraphrasing?”

“Reading between the lines on the second part.”

“I don’t doubt your deduction.”

“Did you expect them to travel the full distance to your Preserve?” the Preema asked.

“That would be prudent,” Nefron agreed, “but their willingness of only escorting us through their territory says that they’re eager to be done with this matter and return their fleet to other uses. Even though it’s their capitol, I don’t think they’ll keep it so well guarded without the Uriti present.”

“We will not conduct ourselves in a similar manner,” the quadruped promised. “We will see it through the entire journey assuming this one goes well.”

“It will on the Uriti’s part. I can’t guarantee anything regarding outside interference.”

“It is the Hamoriti’s part that concerns me. We will have enough ships to guarantee security.”

“Jumpline,” Oro insisted, with Nefron nodding his agreement. While the ship’s crew had remote control of the transport pod they weren’t going to do anything with it without the Chixzon’s approval for fear of disrupting their extremely dangerous cargo.

With the order given, the crew began moving the transport out to the jumppoint and orchestrating the escort fleets to match with about half the Star Force ships preceding it along with what were assumed to be KoQ ships while the rest of them and the masses of observers were to follow behind. The Zeus took up position just in front of the transport and had it following in its wake as they made the jump out to the star and repositioned around to the interstellar jumpline.

From there they exited without incident, traveling the first of 4 legs until they came to a grid point where an even larger ship cradled the transport in its grasp while the host of Star Force ships and observers were loaded up into other mag drive jumpships that had been assembled for just this task. One by one they shot off the gigantic dish like a slingshot and headed across Nexus territory far faster than grav drives could take them, let alone the slow crawl of a Uriti’s natural speed.

“You have done well,” the Preema told Nefron as they both watched the new Uriti fly across the Alamo System and rendezvous with its two kin. They grouped together and began exchanging a lot of telepathic communication, once again reinforcing the fact that they weren’t going to start fighting each other, making it clear that the Preserve was a viable option for dealing with the threat they posed.

“We’ve done what was necessary.”

“At great cost for little visible reimbursement should you never utilize their combat capability.”

“It is necessary.”

“Agreed, but we will not be as ungrateful as The Nexus. You will be compensated for taking this burden off us.”

“You are granting your approval then?”

“I am. Construction will begin as soon as I return. What is the best means for us to deliver suitable compensation?”

“I have a few suggestions, but those matters will be handled by one of the Dukes or trailblazers.”

“Of course. Is there anything you personally require?”

“Knowledge of where the other Uriti are.”

“We have already told you what we know, but we will search for leads. Star Force has a reputation for trustworthiness. It would be best if all the Hamoriti were deposited here. Others would not hold to such scruples given the ability that you possess. Is there anything else?”

“I have everything that I require.”

“Is there anything that you desire?”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

The Preema laughed. “I would not even know how to begin to go about doing that. Your allegiance to Star Force is solid. I am simply offering our gratitude but do not know what form in which to package it.”

“We haven’t removed your Uriti yet.”

“No, but you have given us a viable solution. That in itself is worthy of some reward?”

“I am doing this because of a responsibility, not for reward.”

“Still, is there nothing?”

“No, there is not.”

The Preema nodded. “Very well. If something comes to mind later please inform us. I will stay here a few more days then depart to begin making preparations for our Hamoriti’s relocation.”

Nefron bid his farewell as the Preema left with his Star Force escort for either his quarters or the hangar bay, though the Chixzon didn’t care which. He was an associate that he needed to work with, but the Preema were a bit too arrogant for his liking.

He stayed in the room for another few minutes then left to head for the restricted section where the Preema was never allowed. There he got back to his work and began studying the telepathic communication between the three Uriti as well as their current states. Nedrasil was in bad shape, far more so than Cardosan had been, and he wondered if that was due to more time spent under sedation or some other factor.

Within the day ‘indoctrination’ would begin and basic orders would be given to the new arrival as well as having the other two move through their ‘workouts’ so Nedrasil could see and hopefully learn from that. If there was resistance to be elicited it would happen now, but assuming there was none with these simple tasks and Nedrasil’s different design wasn’t an issue, they’d begin a regimen that would prompt and accelerate the healing process.

While a lot of people assumed Uriti could not die, they did not understand how much damage one could take and still keep living. They could suffer horribly and persist far longer than others which was both a blessing and could be a curse. While sedating them to save the galaxy from the Chixzon had been necessary, it was still doing the Uriti a disservice and he hated seeing them in this condition. While he wished they had had enough willpower to disobey the Chixzon back in the day, he was adamantly hoping now that Nedrasil didn’t, else it’d slow his work here.

And work he still had to do. They’d speculated that adding a third Uriti to the group would alter their interactions considerably and right now he was getting a host of new readings from the trio, telepathic and otherwise. These creatures truly had a pack mentality, and keeping them isolated from one another since their spawning was an obvious oversight the Chixzon had made. They were more powerful together, but that was an aspect of their functionality that was never explored. They were simply used as gigantic wrecking balls and now, in light of this new perspective, Nefron felt anger at his race’s stupidity. While they didn’t tolerate such things, it was now becoming clear just how shortsighted they had been in addition to being in the wrong.

Being a bad guy was bad enough, but to be a stupid bad guy was both insulting and infuriating.

The Chixzon had a reputation for being smart and savvy, so why hadn’t they explored this avenue? Even as he pondered the question he knew the answer, something his Star Force training had instilled in him from the get-go.

The Uriti were people, not machines, and the Chixzon had been treating them as such and using their base abilities to do all the damage while not accounting for improvement or skill. They wanted a weapon to do their bidding, but had completely missed the opportunities that were right in front of them.

Then again, utilizing those opportunities required one to be of a mindset that wouldn’t allow you to wipe out all life on a given planet, so maybe it wasn’t so odd that the Chixzon had missed out on this angle, but missed it they did and that gave Nefron pause to consider how much else he might be missing. He had the benefit of his Star Force memories to put into contrast with his Chixzon ones, but were there angles to the Uriti or other matters that he was still blind to?

It was worth thinking on, and over the coming years he’d do just that as he probed the Uriti’s abilities and temperaments far deeper than the Chixzon had ever cared to, exceeding them and gaining a greater understanding of just how impressive and alien these beasts truly were.

4

June 3, 3288

Paquat System

Vikod (Trinx homeworld)

The escorts for the Trinx representative walked through the membrane wall onboard the Yisv cruiser just prior to it splitting apart to allow the visitor into the small reception chamber. Pattrel floated down from the ceiling displays like a ghost then touched solid feet to the ground as his body changed its molecular alignment and his wispy aura coalesced into a mass more like the Trinx.

“Thank you for coming aboard.”

“I presume you were sent by the others?”

“We were,” Pattrel acknowledged. “Given that you killed a great number of them, it was decided that the Yisv should handle this meeting to reduce the possibility of conflict breaking out. They are still quite enraged.”

“As are we,” the Trinx said with muffled anger. “You have betrayed your oaths.”

“On the contrary, we are in the process of fulfilling them. Regardless, I have not come here to debate the past with you. The Trinx made their choice and suffered greatly for it, but the matter is not concluded. Given time the others will come here to exact a reckoning. I have been sent to entertain the possibility of a peaceful settlement.”

“And I have been sent to hear your words, though it is unlikely that we will agree to any demands.”

“You have destroyed a great many of The Nine’s ships, killed our people while we were defending the very solution that we have all long sought. Had you succeeded, the Hamoriti would be on the rampage again with us unable to do anything but delay its minions from spreading. You were wrong in your judgement of Star Force. The Hamoriti has been contained and two more have been acquired. The one we discovered in Li’vorkrachnika territory first, then the Sety’s was successfully extracted while sedate and moved to the containment Preserve. Once awoken it joined the group and is remaining within the boundaries. Our worlds and the galaxy are now safe from them so long as Star Force does not lose control…control which you tried and nearly succeeded in destroying. I will also note that they now have the ability to control the Hamoriti via different ships, so even if the Chixzon is killed they will be able to maintain control.”

“Something that they had promised was impossible.”

“They did not lie. I am told that the Chixzon found a way to do what was never meant to be done. They did not give details, but it is a recent development. We are fairly sure they did not have this capability when you attacked them, meaning that if you had succeeded you would have destroyed our only chance at restraining the Hamoriti. For that the others will not forgive you, and they will seek a measure of vengeance unless contritions[T1] are made.”

“For the sake of discussion only, what contritions do they seek?”

“Payment to replace the warships you destroyed, in appropriate material then multiplied by a factor of 8. Severing of all ties and agreements with the other members of The Nine. Banishment from ever entering our combined territories. And the forfeiture and removal of the Hamoriti you guard to the Star Force Preserve. That will satisfy us, but you will have to come to terms with Star Force independently.”

“If you think we will give up Rigall to Star Force or anyone else you have truly gone insane.”

“If they wish it, they can awaken it from orbit. You do not have the ability to keep it here.”

“They will not do so while there are people on the planet that would die in the removal. It is not their way.”

“It is their way to conquer races that attack them. The Nine are content to make a deal, otherwise they will be helping in the assault whenever Star Force is ready to mount it.”

“And the Yisv?”

“We have not made a decision yet.”

“Why forfeit possession of the Hamoriti if it is safely sedate?”

“You have been deemed unfit to protect it.”

“We have never wavered in our duty.”

“There are many aspects to that duty, some of which you have not only failed but betrayed. The Nine are wrapping up our long held duty by moving all Hamoriti to the Preserve. Once that is complete we will assist Star Force as necessary in maintaining their containment, but the problem will no longer be our responsibility. They have the power to control them, and so long as we deliver those we hold to them we will have acquitted our duty. So long as yours remains unaccounted for and not under Star Force control it remains a potential threat. Therefore it will be removed from your custody. We would prefer a peaceful transition.”

“No,” the Trinx said simply.

“Do your people feel no shame for what you have done?”

“I could ask you the same. You are giving the most powerful weapons in the galaxy to strangers that you hope will honor their word. If you are waking up the Hamoriti then the matter is even worse, for if their control of them disappears they will all be free. As of now they are sedate and how you could see the reverse as preferable is beyond us.”

“There is partial logic in your words, but I fear it is more arrogance than anything else. With this Hamoriti removed your race loses its stated purpose for existing. If you are not a Hamoriti protector then who are you? You will have to revert to past objectives or chart a new path forward, and I sense you do not want to do that.”

“Do you? Are you reading that from my mind or making assumptions?”

“I am reading that in your mind, but I do not need to. It is obvious by your race’s actions.”

“For the sake of this meeting only, assume we agreed to your terms. You admit that Star Force may not honor them. What point is there in making a deal with The Nine when they are the closer and larger threat? They have the ability to destroy us with a single Hamoriti and we know we cannot stop them. Neither can you.”

“You just stated that they wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Expecting them to is a vast difference from them having the ability to do something. Yes, they can come and take Rigall whenever they wish. Their reluctance to kill us to accomplish it is the only leverage we possess and we intend to make use of it. We will not relinquish our Hamoriti and we will not evacuate the planet. If you want it, you’re going to have to take it from us by force, and we are well defended here despite our recent fleet losses.”

“There is no need for any more of The Nine to die, on either side. I am here to find a way to resolve the matter without further bloodshed.”

“It sounded to me like you were sent here to make demands, not negotiate.”

“If you have a counter proposal please make it.”

“We go our separate ways. We will not leave this system and you will not enter it. The Hamoriti will remain sedate and therefore not threaten anyone else. If we release it to Star Force and they lose control we cannot resedate it, therefore it is advantageous to keep it in its present state.”

“That will not satisfy The Nine, and based off my judgement of them, I do not believe it will satisfy Star Force either.”

“Their solution endangers us all,” the Trinx said conciliatorily. “While their involvement may have been necessary to reign in the rogue, waking up others is a folly that we cannot be part of.”

“If you are so certain that they will not awaken this Hamoriti if it means killing you in the process, you who attacked and destroyed many of their ships, who are in a de facto state of war with them, what is it that you fear them doing with the Hamoriti? If they will not use them against you, then who?”

The Trinx was hesitant to answer, suddenly caught by the logic thread. “They have the ability to destroy us. We do not think they will, but it is a gamble we are willing to take with our own lives. Are you willing to risk the galaxy on that same assumption?”

“Yes.”

“For what possible logic?”

“The simple fact that since they have gotten involved the situation has improved.”

“The rogue is temporarily contained, that is true, but the potential disaster is far higher now.”

“All it will take to destroy the galaxy is one unchecked Hamoriti. One was woken before Star Force intervened. If they are not lying, and we do not assume they are, they cannot sedate the Hamoriti by any means different than what the Ancients used. If the Hamoriti comes under attack it will defend itself, meaning that a battle will have to be fought to sedate them. Even the original Chixzon did not have full control over them. Orders can be given, but an order to surrender itself will not take. The rogue cannot be captured again through lesser means, and if all it takes is one to doom us all, better to have them all in a single, defensible location than scattered across the galaxy.”

“One is enough to doom us, but more than one will expedite the destruction. Given time we will be able to attain the technology level of the Ancients, then we will be able to contain waking Hamoriti.”

Pattrel was silent for a long moment, then looked at the Trinx skeptically. “What progress have you made?”

“We continue to study the Ancient shell and learn from the Oracle. The depths of its programming are massive, and when we prove to it that we have attained certain technology it releases more information.”

“I was told that the Oracles did not know how the Ancients achieved delivery of the sedative to the waking Hamoriti.”

“Whether or not that information is contained within the databanks is uncertain. Perhaps it simply requires unlocking because the task is too great for a lesser race to attempt. Even if it is not, when we attain a similar tech level to the Ancients we will be able to divine a method, whether it be the original or a new one of our own making. We will gain the ability to capture Hamoriti.”

“Then do so as a backup to Star Force’s Preserve.”

“We require this one to study in its slumber.”

“Better yet to study one when it is awake. We have gained far more data from the Preserve observatories than we have gotten from the Shells. The Hamoriti, when active, are quite different.”

“You are only allowed the data Star Force gives you. Once again you are entrusting everything to them. Rigall will remain here and we will continue to learn and advance.”

“That will not happen given the current temperaments of those you betrayed.”

“We are building additional defenses. The longer they delay to strike us the stronger we get. And as I’ve said, our prior defenses here were considerable to begin with.”

2 months later…

Pattrel walked into the grand council chamber on the Sety capitol, then switched back into its wispy form to float down a series of stairs before coalescing itself again in front of the representatives of what had been come to be known as The Seven, though none of them would claim that title in the Yisv’s presence, disrespectful as it was, though it was now true that Pattrel’s race was incapable of assisting with the protection of the Preserve where the Hamoriti were present. Their participation in this alliance was coming to a beneficial end, but until all of The Nine’s Hamoriti were relocated they were still viable to a number of missions, though the recent one had ended in utter failure.

“They are intractable,” the Yisv reported. “Their defeat has not opened their minds, rather I fear it has committed them to a futile course. They will not admit error, nor culpability, and they will not surrender the Hamoriti.”

“Fools,” the Sety said with disgust. “Don’t they realize that even if we all decided to forgive them their betrayal that they will still have to deal with Star Force? Even without using the Hamoriti, as they’ve promised not to, they have an empire containing thousands of star systems. The Trinx have but one. They cannot hold out against an invasion for long.”

“They intend to and are building additional deterrents. As you probably know, their previous defenses were the strongest of us all, but I agree that they will not be victorious if Star Force, or we, decide to strike at them.”

“Were no possible avenues of compromise discussed?” the Dati asked.

“I spent many days in discussion. They will listen but nothing beyond that. Their minds are fixed on their course.”

“And what is their course, as they see it?” the cyborg asked.

“They believe that if they retain possession of the Hamoriti and continue to study it and the technology that contains it, they will eventually attain peerdom with the Ancients.”

The Jonstar shook its hairy head. “They actually think they’ll be able to capture and reclaim the awoken Hamoriti, don’t they?”

“They do,” Pattrel confirmed. “They will become, in their delusions, the counter to Star Force. Their control over the Hamoriti will be no different than the Chixzon, and the Ancients defeated the Chixzon and took their weapons from them. The Trinx aspire to this, and I believe they have for a very long time now.”

“That’s why they relocated,” the Sety said with awe at the revelation.

“To put everything they had into the endeavor,” the cyborg echoed with a nod. “They saw themselves rising to take an insanely high position within the galaxy, to become one of the Ancients, and Star Force’s ability to control the Hamoriti usurps even that.”

“They have a Chixzon,” the Dati pointed out. “And they can control them as the Chixzon did.”

“Why have we been so blind?” the Breti asked.

“Because we have been protecting the Hamoriti to safeguard the galaxy,” the cyborg stated with considerable frustration. “They have been doing so to aggrandize themselves.”

“We have gained much from studying the Ancient technology,” the Sety pointed out.

“But none of us attacked the Star Force control ship.”

“Did they not accept any of our stipulations?” the Sety asked.

“They have announced that they’re willing to remain within their own star system. Everything they need for their ascension is there, so they’re willing to cut all ties with us and the outside.”

“Repayment for losses?” the Dati asked.

“Refused.”

“They kill our people and expect us to just let it go?” the Jonstar asked.

“They have already dismissed us. They did so when they chose to attack.”

“Yet they accepted you without incident,” the Sety pointed out.

“To talk. There is no reason to attack our ships, and they did not bar us from returning.”

“What of the rest of us?” the cyborg asked.

“No warfleets, but emissaries are permitted.”

“How gracious,” the Bpret muttered.

“You are certain there is no recourse?” the Dati asked.

“I had thought there would be some traction possible, but I was wrong,” Pattrel admitted helplessly. “Unless their representative was not speaking truthfully, there is no hope of resolution. We either leave them be or face war.”

“We don’t have the resources for that,” the Sety said honestly. “We cannot and will not absolve the Trinx without contrition, but we are not in a position to do more than offer token assistance to any invasion…the end of which I do not see clearly. Is their destruction sought, or merely subjugation? We have not discussed this before.”

“I think,” the cyborg said before anyone else could answer, “that we will have to consult Star Force as to their plans for the Trinx. I have studied their short history, and while they are exceedingly tolerant of others there are some lines that cannot be crossed. If they are, the freedom they allow is quickly rescinded. They will deal with the Trinx harshly, and I think it would be foolish of us to act prior to their response.”

“Are they waiting until their invasion front reaches Trinx territory?” the Bpret asked.

“They suffered considerable ship losses in that treacherous attack,” the Dati reminded them. “They do not strike me as ones that would confront the Trinx until they had a significant advantage. They do not accept personnel losses. It may be that the expenditure of the war against the Li’vorkrachnika, the losses they suffered, and the expense of Preserve construction is causing them to delay.”

“If we do not encounter the Trinx outside their system, are we content with leaving Star Force to decide their fate?” the Domu asked.

The representatives exchanged glances with one another, coming to a quick consensus.

“The Chamra will assist Star Force if battle is required,” the cyborg said, “but I do not wish to press an invasion if they do not and the Trinx do not leave their system.”

“So the Trinx proposal has some merit?” the Yisv inquired.

“It would seem so, but some reckoning must be had,” the Breti insisted.

“Do we have the strength to defeat them without Star Force?” the Dati asked Pattrel.

“They are stockpiling the vassals that had been going to the Hamoriti. We have the collective strength to defeat them, but are we willing to gather sufficient strength in light of,” he looked at the Sety, “other needs?”

“I think our path is clear,” the cyborg decided. “If Star Force is to seek a reckoning we will assist, but doing so without their presence will cost us too much. The Trinx are not worth that sacrifice if their only concern is to hide out in their single system.”

“And you are content with leaving them in possession of a Hamoriti?” the Sety asked.

“I am not, but I do not wish to lose a significant portion of our fleet trying to reclaim it. Star Force should not have to bear this burden alone, but their military is far better configured to do this. They have not attempted to take more territory than they can hold and have a surplus of ships that they are using to conquer the Li’vorkrachnika. None of us has that kind of surplus, despite our larger power bases.”

“You are saying they have been more prudent in their choices?” the Domu asked.

“Yes,” the Yisv said, answering for the cyborg. “And such wisdom bodes well for their ability and willingness to honor their word and contain the Hamoriti.”

“Agreed,” the Dati said. “Whatever reckoning is to come, we must coordinate with Star Force to achieve it else we will lose far too much in what could be a futile effort.”

5

October 30, 3288

Epsilon Eridani System

Yisv Embassy Station

Pattrel was awoken at the prompt of an incoming message, his body a mere ovoid shape liquid in composition until his mind grasped hold and the material vaporized into a dense cloud that flowed out of the chamber previously holding him. He rematerialized into his standing bipedal shape, taking solid form as he tapped the control crystals to play the message from Star Force. The long discussions he and other members of the The Seven were having had finally bore fruit as an Archon had been assigned to lead the agreed upon invasion.

That Archon was summoning the various representatives to the main embassy station shared by many races, though the more formidable races had arranged to construct their own independent ones in various orbits. The Yisv embassy drifted lazily around the system separate from any planet, requiring Pattrel to board a ship to travel to Babylon 19 that rode high in Corneria’s orbit.

He was eager to go and was onboard an in-system transport within minutes, arriving to find the Chamra already present in a small section of the station reserved for The Seven. The Yisv also had a small set of chambers here where they kept a single representative on occasion, but in truth they had little interest in dealing with the other races present as others did. Their concern lie primarily with their relationship to Star Force. Beyond that there wasn’t much to concern themselves with on the busy facility, though they did like to keep aware of current events.

Pattrel floated into the chamber and hovered behind the ring-like table at the center of the room while the Chamra sat alone.

“The others have been delayed?” the Yisv asked.

“Rather we are early,” the cyborg said. “I am interested in hearing this Archon’s plan. If it is sound we will support them and deal with the traitors promptly. If not I cannot justify the lives spent to deal with a now minor thorn in our side.”

“Archons don’t have a reputation for wasting troops.”

“Have they ever faced an opponent as advanced as the Trinx?”

“They have already faced the Trinx once,” the Yisv pointed out, “but I do not know of any more formidable than the Li’vorkrachnika that they have faced previously.”

“Therein lies my concern. They are used to fighting a weak enemy that masses numbers to achieve victory. The Trinx will be much harder to combat and we may see considerable losses.”

“The Archons also have a reputation for adaption and cleverness.”

“So I hope,” the cyborg said as the far doors slid open again and allowed the Dati representative to enter. The little triped bounced along with an energetic stride standing only 14 inches tall, then it jumped up to its platform/chair that rose higher on command to put it at eye level with the Chamra.

Over the following hour the others arrived, leaving all eight of the races with a single representative at the table containing nine seats. Soon after the Jonstar entered the door opened again and a female Archon walked in wearing their telltale white uniforms with an identifying stripe down the side that Pattrel recognized as their highest rank of ViLord.

“Hello. My name is Oni-081,” she said, taking her stool-like seat, “and I’ve been assigned command of the Trinx invasion.”

“Has a plan of action been developed yet?” the cyborg asked.

“More or less. I know how I want to approach the challenge, but I’ve only been planning using Star Force technology. What you can provide will allow for beneficial alterations once you make me aware of what your contributions will be.”

“That depends on the battle plan.”

“I can promise you that I do not intend to lose troops in this assault,” she said, picking up on his thoughts, partial as they were, split between readable biological brain sections and the blank mechanical counterparts as far as her telepathy was concerned.

“But you cannot guarantee it,” the Jonstar said evenly.

“There are never any guarantees in life, let alone battle, but I never attack a world in a way that expects losses. If this were a defensive engagement we might not have that luxury, but since we’re going to be going in when and where we choose, there will be no such sloppiness.”

“What is your general plan of attack?” the tanky Breti asked.

“Our objective is not to kill the Trinx, but to capture them.”

“Capture?” Pattrel asked, somewhat shocked. “That may work against less advanced civilizations, but it will not work against the Trinx’s level of technology.”

“Not without us taking serious losses in the effort,” the cyborg added.

The Human shook her head. “They have only one system, and fortified as it may be, we can take it intact if we’re patient and persistent. The objective is to claim the system, not to do so quickly. If they engage us heavily we pull back, try to isolate individual ships or units and neutralize them. Once neutralized we collect and transport them out of the system entirely to a pre-readied facility where they will accept and begin to process the prisoners.”

“To what end?” the quadruped Domu asked.

“If the Trinx cannot be negotiated with, then they are too dangerous a foe to leave independent. Star Force will soon take the surrounding territory, and not knowing if or when they might strike us creates a problem, especially with their stealth technology. We have to remove the threat, and aside from killing them all, the only way to do that is to capture them.”

“And what becomes of them after capture?”

“We could exile them, denying them their system and forcing them outside our territory and yours, but I do not like that option for a number of reasons. Tactically, we couldn’t be sure that once they left they wouldn’t be back. And if they already have a grudge against us they’d have even more of one if we took their homeworld from them. The only way to neutralize the threat is to destroy their civilization. Star Force doesn’t do that by killing unless forced to, and there are so few Trinx that no matter how hard they fight we will still be able to neutralize and take them prisoner. Call it an added insult to their upcoming defeat. They won’t be allowed to die defending their arrogant pride.”

“You refer to your extermination of the Li’vorkrachnika,” Pattrel noted. “You would really capture them if you could?”

“Yes. But they kill themselves if captured anyway. We don’t think the Trinx will. Do you concur?”

The 8 other races exchanged glances and some muffled conversation, then the Jonstar looked at the Archon. “We have never observed suicidal tendencies in them. They will die for a purpose, but they do not take their own lives. I would not hold that to be absolutely true, but we have seen nothing in our history with them to suggest otherwise.”

“If we do manage to capture them and relocate them to a prison planet, what happens to them?” the Bpret asked.

“The same thing we have done before. We separate the younglings and train them in the Star Force ways. They form a new civilization while we hold, evaluate, and train the current Trinx. If some of them change their ways they will earn a place in the new civilization. If not, they will remain comfortably confined until such time as they do or until they unfortunately expire. We cannot kill stubbornness, so we will keep trying to bring them around as long as necessary.”

“You seek to annex them then,” the Sety said.

“I believe it is the best option. Mad as we are with them, we don’t want to slaughter them.”

“And you are going to take it upon yourself to decide their fate?”

“I’m open to good suggestions if you have any.”

“My concern is with members of their society that had no hand in the attack.”

“They will be inconvenienced, no more. If they prove themselves they will be free to remain in the new Trinx civilization or leave, but to do so as individuals. The current group must be disbanded and this is a proven method to accomplish that.”

“This civilization would be part of Star Force or independent?” Pattrel asked.

“We’re not in the habit of building civilizations from scratch then saying ‘hey, you’re on your own now.’ If we do this we take responsibility for them. They will become a part of Star Force.”

“Then I am content[T2],” the cyborg said with finality. “They will meet a far more beneficial fate than some of them deserve.”

“We like to err on the side of caution,” Oni quipped. “Punishing the innocent is unacceptable.”

“Yet you are doing that by inconveniencing them,” the Sety pointed out.

“It’s a transition, not a punishment. They have to unlearn what they have learned. Think of it as contamination that has to be scrubbed away. They might not see it that way, but if we just take them in then we run the risk of harboring an enemy in our midst. We will not risk that.”

“Nor should you,” the Jonstar agreed. “I too am content with their fate and thank you for shouldering this burden. My questions now lie with our strategy for capturing them.”

“We will have a control ship just in case the Uriti is released, accidentally or otherwise. We will not call it forth, but if they try to set it loose to kill us along with them we will shut down that attempt before it can manifest. We won’t be able to sedate it again, but we will be able to draw it off the planet and to a holding orbit while we fight.”

“How do you plan on dealing with their conventional defenses?”

Oni put a slew of holograms up in the air above the open center of the ring that they all sat around. “From what we know, and please speak up if I’m wrong, the Trinx have five primary weapon systems. Two beam systems with good range, one of which delivers engine inhibiting residue. Missile systems that can self-navigate to avoid targets while tracking others, an area of effect damage field, and a short range orb launcher.”

“That matches our known inventory,” the cyborg said. “Though they also have cloaking systems and a variety of countermeasures.”

“Yes, we noted that our drone control systems were being challenged. Fortunately our comm systems are redundant enough to not have gone down.”

“They have a solid military structure,” the Sety offered. “I see no weaknesses to exploit.”

“If there are no existing weaknesses, then you have to create some,” Oni explained. “The biggest challenge is going to be their planetary defense guns. We have some weaponry that can reach them beyond their effective range, but with their shield strength and redundancies it will take a very long time to take even one down and I fear that unless we put more firepower into a specific location than I’m expecting to bring with us they might have a chance to weather the storm.”

“What weapon do you refer to?” the cyborg asked curious.

“A siege weapon. Power, long range, and very hard to build. We have one that is available. If we need a second this invasion will have to be delayed. Do any of you have something to counter those big guns with?”

The Domu looked around. “I do not think any of us possesses a weapon that can outrange their Yamshu.”

“Our colosat can take them down,” the Jonstar offered, “but we will pay a heavy price getting in close enough to use them.”

“If their shields are fully deployed, they will destroy many of our ships before we breach them,” Pattrel said regretfully. “We must infiltrate the surface before we attack.”

“How?” the Sety asked.

“We must open up a hole to land troops through, even if it means braving their defense fire while we run them down to the surface. In order to do that we must sabotage several overlapping shield generators.”

“But how do we get down to the surface?”

“We must sneak in.”

“You?” the cyborg asked.

Pattrel nodded. “It will be risky, but I can see no other viable alternative.”

“Fortunately that’s why I’m here,” the Archon said quietly, drawing the attention of all 8 representatives. “As I said, we have a siege weapon that may or may not be sufficient to slowly breach a point in their shield grid. If we do need a boost and none of your weapons have the necessary range, we can achieve it through other means, costly as they will be.”

“What do you refer to?” the Dati asked.

“Kinetic bombardment.”

“Clarify please,” the cyborg said.

“We can construct heavy masses, perhaps explosives if needed, and run them down to the surface to stress their shields. It’s simply a matter of figuring out how many are needed and constructing them.”

“Won’t the Trinx orbital defenses and fleet intercept them?” the Sety asked. “They have auxiliary defense shielding to protect against a suicidal ship jump onto the surface.”

“Those shields are extremely specific as to how they repel the matter. We can create a customized weapon to partially defeat them and get some mass to their primary shields. It will add stress if delivered, but we will have to remove the Trinx fleet and conventional defenses because a high speed ram is out of the question. That’s what their shields are probably set up to defend against, therefore we can’t hit them in that manner.”

“Why can’t we send unarmed ships or masses into them repeatedly until their energy is depleted?” the Dati asked.

Oni shook her head. “Do any of you know the full strength of their power systems? We can’t try that unless we have a target number to hit.”

“Unfortunately the Archon is correct,” the cyborg said. “We will not know the full depth of their power reserves. If they are expecting bombardment they will have ample redundancies.”

“Which is why we have to defeat their kinetic shielding rather than facing it head on.”

“Defeat how?” the Bpret asked.

“Strike to weaken and bypass it, not deplenish its energy.”

“And you have the technology to do this?”

“We have some, but no way to bypass their shields entirely.”

“We can get to the surface,” Pattrel reiterated. “We can make this problem irrelevant.”

“If it’s going to get your people killed, I won’t allow it,” Oni said.

“We are willing to assist, but that doesn’t mean we take orders from you. No disrespect intended.”

The Archon stared him down. “Unless we work as one, this invasion will not happen. I will not have you or anyone else doing your own thing and potentially upsetting the plans I have in place. Such confusion often gets people killed.”

“How can you get your people in?” the Sety asked, deflecting that point of contention for the moment.

“We take our time and infiltrate the planet using their own ships. We can hide within them without the Trinx knowing.”

“How do you get to their ships in the first place?” the cyborg asked.

“That is what we must determine, and it will probably come down to exploiting a moment of opportunity once in the system. We will have to arrive under guise or stealth to get into position to make use of an opportunity.”

“And what will you use to destroy the shield generators?” the Dati asked.

“We have our ways,” Pattrel said vaguely.

“And what happens to you,” Oni asked, “after your presence on the planet has been revealed?”

“The infiltrators take their chances. Our ability to move through walls that the Trinx can’t will give them a possibility of survival until our main ground forces arrive. They will simply have to run and hide once the deed is done.”

“I could go down myself and take out a shield generator,” she said with a hint of anger. “But I won’t try because even if I succeed it would most likely be a one way trip. I will not allow troops to be sacrificed to attain an objective. This invasion must be an honorable one. Getting through the shields from orbit will be difficult, but with proper planning and construction it can be done. I am confident of that.”

“And if you are wrong?” the Yisv asked.

“Then no one dies and we blockade their planets while we look for another way.”

“I am fairly confident the Yisv could succeed,” the Domu said. “But I do not think they could do so without losses.”

“More to the point,” the Dati interrupted before Pattrel could respond. “The Trinx know we’re coming and they’d be stupid if they didn’t develop some warning system or countermeasure to your abilities. You could be walking into a trap.”

“We will do our part in this invasion,” the Yisv said firmly. “We have not been able to do much in the past, but so long as this Uriti is sedate we will risk planetfall to achieve this objective.”

“So all the Trinx have to do is wake it up and you’re all neutralized,” the Sety pointed out.

“If they do so the shield generators will be compromised and we will have our entry corridor.”

“Not worth it,” Oni said, holding up a hand to forestall further comments, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want your skills. I just want to save them for situations where you can dominate the enemy.”

6

May 19, 3290

Paquat System

Vikod (Trinx homeworld)

Oni brought her fleet into upper orbit of the planet after having received no challenge at the star. The warships came out of their microjump high and began spurting drones as a handful of Trinx ships raced to engage them, hoping to use the moment of opportunity to take down a few of them before the Star Force fleet could get itself organized, but with Oni’s command ship leading the way and actually initiating the combat, she was able to draw fire to her and give the leading warships the time they needed.

Soon a swarm of the little boxy rectangles moved forward and intercepted the Trinx vessels before the command ship’s shields fell. Battle continued briefly then the Trinx retreated back down to a lower orbit leaving a handful of partially intact ships behind. Oni tagged them for retrieval and rescue operations after some precision weaponsfire plucked their remaining weapon systems from use even before the allied ships of the Chamra began to arrive.

There were a fair number of them, but when combined with the ships of the other seven races, including only the three warships the Sety had managed to provide, they massed nearly half again the strength Star Force had brought with them and when all were visible in orbit they made for an impressive display.

But just as impressive were the orbital defenses. The Trinx had a small fleet here, either held back from the previous assault they had launched or created since then. Immediately Oni saw a weakness and turned her ships towards a position in mid orbit, highlighting several defense platforms to neutralize without totally destroying as she sent surrender offers that were promptly ignored. Her drones went in while the allies stayed behind, on her order, so no living crews were lost. By massing drones Oni was able to keep her equipment losses to a minimum but oddly the Trinx fleet did not redeploy to intercept them.

Not that it would have mattered, but they were sitting lower in orbit near to other facilities while Oni was successfully surrounding their primary shipyard. As soon as she had the fixed defensive emplacements knocked down she called in their allies and they began boarding operations as she moved on to pluck a few more defensive installations from the Trinx arsenal here and there on the fringes of their primary cluster. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of diving in and slugging it out, but was content to take on a handful while the boarding parties began capturing the surviving Trinx crews.

Taking out the weapons shooting at them was one thing, but simply blowing away the defense stations was quite another and had been strictly banned on Oni’s orders prior to arriving in this system. So far the other races were sticking to plan and following her lead, but there were so many defense stations in orbit of their capitol planet that it was going to be like chopping wood to get through them all…not to mention the lesser defenses around the other inhabited planets in the system.

But the Trinx fleet, aside from that initial attack, did not move to engage. They could not win, and it was obvious, but they didn’t come to the aid of their defense stations and the crews on them. Rather they simply held position and Oni was beginning to wonder what their angle was.

Right now the planet was covered in layered energy shields, sealed up nice and tight against whatever the attacking fleet could throw at it and ready to punish them if they got too close with a host of ground-based batteries. Oni had her Bra’hem-equipped Devastator still parked back at the star with an escort fleet to keep it out of the fighting until called for, which wouldn’t be for weeks, if not months, as they slowly picked away the orbital defenses. Then they’d get their chance to start pounding on the planetary shields, but right now the Trinx fleet, consisting of some 228 visible vessels, was a wild card.

What were they going to do and why hadn’t they done it yet?

With the shipyard boarding parties reporting back that they were successfully incapacitating the crew with a mix of Star Force units and Yisv skirmishers, only to be collected and imprisoned by the other races, a prompt in her command nexus brought her attention to activity on the planet’s surface. Barely a minute after that warning the Trinx fleet suddenly moved…down towards the planetary shields.

They parted and let them through, then the ships began firing on surface targets in what looked to be some type of ground fight that had broken out a moment ago.

Oni got links to the fleet commanders with a thought and had holos for them ringing her as she looked at them grimly, her eyes finally landing on the Yisv.

“Do any of you have troops on the ground?”

“We do not,” the Yisv said, then the others chimed in with similar negatives, “but we are seeing the activity there. We have no explanation.”

“I don’t need excuses, I need the truth,” she pressed, wishing they were here instead of in holo and she could just read their minds. “If you are running a simultaneous operation you will tell me now or I’ll make you regret it, I promise you.”

“We did not infiltrate the planet,” the Yisv said firmly.

“They are firing on their own buildings,” the Sety pointed out.

“And the only reason I can see for that,” the cyborg offered, “is that those buildings have been compromised by an infiltrating army. It is not ours, I promise you that. Whoever made it down there has considerable skill that I admit to being envious of.”

“I repeat,” the Yisv said firmly. “We do not have troops or anyone else down there, nor do we know what is happening.”

“Whatever it is,” Oni said, trying to read them by their visual cues…which was hard when she wasn’t all that familiar with their races, “they felt the need to bring down their fleet to assist. My limited data suggest these facilities that they’re targeting are not strategic?”

“No,” the Jonstar said, puzzled. “They’re nothing of merit unless they contain systems that we are not aware of. They are not even near the planetary defenses.”

“Does anyone know what these structures are?”

“No,” the cyborg said regretfully. “The Trinx have never been forthcoming with data concerning their planets. Their isolationist tendency has kept many aspects of their society in the dark.”

“The fighting is not near the Hamoriti site,” the Dati pointed out.

“Be thankful for that. Could this be one of the races present in the Preserve?”

“Possible,” Oni admitted. “But unless they lied to me, the Knights of Quenar were sitting this one out until we’re ready to move the Uriti.”

“They have extensive cloaking technology,” the Sety pointed out. “They could have infiltrated the planet prior to our arrival.”

“That they could,” Oni said, clenching her fist. “But if they, or whoever this is, is trying to aid our assault, what are they going for in those buildings?”

“Perhaps the Trinx set up some ambushes for our ground troops in innocuous places.”

“Hold on a moment,” Oni said, putting all the holograms on pause while she keyed another comm channel. “This is Archon Oni-081 to any Knights of Quenar vessel or unit in the system. Please respond.”

She wasn’t sure she’d get a response, but after a short delay a single ship appeared on sensors far up in planetary orbit away from all the fighting.

“What is it that you require, Archon?”

“Do you have troops on the surface?”

“You requested that we not take part in the invasion, and we have honored that request. We are only here to observe, and had you not contacted us directly we would not have revealed ourselves.”

“We’re picking up surface fighting but no one is claiming responsibility for it.”

“Do you require our assistance?”

“Not militarily. Do you have any knowledge of who is down there?”

“No outsiders have been detected.”

Oni raised an eyebrow. “How close have you gotten?”

“Close enough,” he said, suggesting to Oni that they had more than one ship hidden in the system, for at this one’s current position they couldn’t get very good readings of surface activity save for the large explosions resulting from the Trinx warfleet.

“Thank you,” she said, ending that communication and putting the fleet commanders back on. “There appears to be no visible sign of an invading army.”

“Based on what surveillance?” the Domu asked.

“The Knights of Quenar are here, as you probably saw,” she added as their ship disappeared again. “But they claim to be observing only and they haven’t spotted anyone else involved.”

“There are other races with considerable stealth technology that have shown up in the Preserve,” the cyborg pointed out. “And from orbit it is almost impossible to pick out such things on surface streets, let alone in buildings.”

“Granted. What are the odds that this is Trinx fighting Trinx?”

That possibility left all the fleet commanders stunned, with no one offering a response.

“A possibility that we have to consider,” Oni finally added, “but not one that I’m convinced of. Recommendations as to how we proceed?”

“This is surface activity and therefore doesn’t affect our immediate goals,” the cyborg deduced. “We do not deviate from plan until we are in a position to assault the planetary shield generators.”

“Agreed,” the Bpret echoed.

“Are any of your boarding parties having trouble?”

“Given that your troops are doing most of the fighting,” the Jonstar said with mild objection, “we have taken nothing more than light casualties, and I am speaking for the whole of us on retrieval duty.”

“Define ‘light?’”

“A few minor injuries resulting from facility damage. Your ability to incapacitate their troops so easily is to be commended.”

“We’ve had a lot of practice,” Oni stated. “We continue with operations here and monitor the planet. If any of you spot the other faction in this ground battle I want to know immediately. Patience is key here, let’s exercise it and keep picking off their defenses slowly as we see what develops below.”

“Shall we deploy scouts to the other planets?” the Dati asked.

Oni nodded. “Good idea. Snoop around but don’t engage.”

“We will handle it,” he said before others could volunteer.

“Alright then, let’s get back to work.”

3 weeks later…

Oni was in her command ship’s sanctum when word came through, delivered via another Archon that interrupted her automated sparring session. She shut down the robotic opponents and headed straight to the bridge not caring that she was dripping with sweat. When she into linked into the nexus she found a Trinx hologram waiting for her and she regarded the red-skinned alien quizzically.

“I’m listening,” she said stiffly.

“Will you allow negotiation?”

Oni raised an eyebrow. “The Yisv already tried to negotiate and were rebuffed. What has changed?”

“Our leadership,” the Trinx said darkly. “I do not speak for those that you’ve previously had contact with.”

“By contact you mean those that attacked us?”

The Trinx nodded. “And those that were contacted through diplomatic means. I represent a faction of loyalists who are currently attempting to depose our insane leaders. Will you negotiate a separate settlement with us?”

“The fighting on the surface is internal then?”

“It is.”

“Who controls your warships?”

“The opposition.”

“Who’s winning?”

“We outnumber them and are galvanizing support from the general population. We have no wish to see our world destroyed and are trying to save our people before this invasion lays waste to the planet. While we do not have control yet, I am asking if we can come to terms to avoid conflict.”

“What sort of terms?”

“That is what I am asking you. What options will you allow us?”

“What is your name and position?”

“I am Chosan, former commander of the Hamoriti containment forces.”

“Former?”

“When I refused to assault your control vessel and endanger the Chixzon I was removed from command. While we have no formal structure, I am the unofficial leader of the rebellion.”

“So you were responsible for sending wave after wave of Li’vorkrachnika to their deaths?”

“I was.”

“I do not find that fact reassuring.”

The Trinx frowned. “I do not mean to bicker with those that I am pleading with for our lives, but are you not killing them in far greater numbers?”

“We are, but we are doing so honorably. They always have the option to surrender, but they choose not to take it.”

“Those that I sent to die chose that end.”

“They use many dishonorable tactics, which is one reason we are fighting them. A race as advanced as yours I would hope to know better.”

“We had no other choice,” Chosan said simply, “but if there is blame to be had I accept it.”

Oni looked at his hologram for a silent moment, trying to size him up. “We did not come here to kill you, we came here to conquer you and end the threat you pose. Our boarding parties are equipped with stun weapons and the captives will be taken out of the system to a holding facility.”

The Trinx looked stunned. “I do not mean offense, but what cause do you have for such mercy?”

“It’s the way we fight. We would do the same with the Li’vorkrachnika if they didn’t kill themselves once captured.”

“What end did you intend for us?”

“Your sovereignty will be revoked. Our invasion line into Li’vorkrachnika territory will be entering this region soon and we cannot risk having your ships striking us where we are weak. You must therefore be neutralized, but that doesn’t mean murdered. We are taking possession of this system, and while some of you may die, and already have, it was through combat of your choosing. Every defense station we have assaulted was ordered to stand down and surrender, to which they refused.”

“I expect no less from those scoundrels, but not all of our military will follow them if allowed another path. I have no contacts of merit in orbit, but on the surface we are organizing and growing quickly.”

“Enough to lower a section of your planetary shield?”

“We have not attempted to do so yet, for such an assault will be very costly. They are bringing the fight to us for the moment and killing their brothers and sisters out of a sanity that I cannot fully comprehend. If we surrender to you, what becomes of us after this holding facility?”

“Annexation.”

“Into your empire?”

“Yes.”

“What of this star system?”

“It was to be completely evacuated, assuming your people would resist us with every effort. If that is not the case then the dynamic is changed.”

“What does annexation mean to you?”

“You will surrender your younglings to our training facilities as well as all future births. They will know only Star Force, thus severing the connection to your current society and allowing it to die. The Trinx will be reborn anew as we have done with many other races.”

“And what happens to those of us that are already here?”

“You will be confined until such a time you can prove your worth. During that time you will train and we will teach you what you need to know.”

“You have facilities to house all of our population?”

“Yes.”

“And if we prove our worth, we will return here under your banner?”

“Possibly. If you can surrender this world to us we can facilitate a less abrupt transition that keeps many of you here.”

“What function would we serve in your empire?”

“That would also depend on your merit, but make note that we do not hold future generations responsible for the actions of the current ones.”

“There would be a penalty exacted upon us then?”

“Other than the revocation of your sovereignty, no.”

“No?”

“We are here to neutralize a threat. If you choose to neutralize yourself then we have no need to penalize you. This system will be ours, the Trinx will be annexed, and no part of you will be allowed to escape to exist independently and threaten us again. Those are the terms I’m offering.”

“What of the Hamoriti?”

“It will be removed. Preferably still sedated, but I have a controller here that can order it away from the planet if it wakes.”

“Your invasion takes more care to safeguard our lives than our own leaders.”

“That’s because we’re the good guys.”

“I do not understand the depth of most of which you speak, but we have very few options and you are offering us an alternative other than death. Given the betrayal our leaders exercised upon you, I can understand if there are more lethal feelings on your part, and I thank you for staying your hand. Will the other members of The Nine abide by your terms?”

“They have agreed to follow my lead. They are here to assist, then they wish to wash their hands of the matter.”

“And rightly so. Our entire race has been shamed. You brought salvation and we sought to destroy you for it. I hereby offer the surrender of all forces aligned with me, though given current circumstances we cannot get to you at the moment. I will make what contacts I can in orbit and try to secure the surrender of some of the facilities there while we gather our strength for an assault on one of the shield generators. I do not know how long it will take. Things are very much in flux down here, and your intent to annex us will alter them much more so.”

“We’re not in a hurry,” Oni offered. “Take your time and keep as many people alive as you can.”

The Trinx bowed. “You do us an honor we do not deserve.”

The Archon summoned up a holo conference with the fleet commanders, knowing that it was going to take some minutes for all of them to assemble. “Now that we have come to an understanding, let’s get everyone on the same page so there are no miscommunications. Then we will find a way to deal with your insane former leaders.”

7

August 1, 3290

Paquat System

Vikod (Trinx homeworld)

Onnet ran through the Trinx streets as explosions blasted apart the building to his right above the centerline. Large chunks of it flew out laterally, then the whole top crumbled and fell towards him. The Yisv knew he couldn’t get out of the way in time so he ran towards the underside of the falling building and tucked up against the wall as the rubble came down, blurring his body out of physical mode and into the ethereal wisp that splashed apart with the first piece of building to hit.

His mind disintegrated with each hit, leaving him unable to move or think other than through base instincts. He couldn’t see much at all, merely a numb awareness of the material his body was contacting. He wouldn’t move through the solid building rubble like he could the thin membranes in a Yisv city, but he survived in the cracks and random shafts created in the pile that continued to build up as the Trinx structure came down. He wasn’t aware of that or anything else, but slowly he felt out the cracks and pulled the scattered pieces of his body back together, and with each reunion his mind began to reform.

He was stretched out across several dozen meters by the time he finally regained adequate consciousness, which he used to snake his way into a larger cave underneath an angled slab. Once he pulled himself in there he was back to normal, shaken but fully functional, though he couldn’t retake his physical form due to lack of space.

The sounds coming through the rubble were lessened, but the battle outside continued to rage on. The Trinx zealots were punishing their population as much as they could for rebelling against them and were at present bombarding this section of city with aircraft that both Star Force and the Chamra were busy trying to contain. Onnet was one of many Yisv scouts searching for enemy infantry, for they’d been sending in random living teams to slaughter both rebel troops and any civilians they could get their hands on away from the main vassal deployments. He’d found one such group just before the aerial bombardment began, but they were probably long gone by now.

Chasing them wasn’t an option anyway until he could get out of this mess. Abandoning his little cave he let his mind diminish as his cloud-like body turned into a stream that flowed out through various cracks searching for fresh air. He couldn’t keep track of time like this, only follow a single impulse that he’d made himself remember prior to dispersion.

Keep moving until you find your way out.

When he did, the Yisv manifested his full height on top of a rock with his soon to be solid feet standing at an angle. As soon as he put pressure there he slipped, his hand falling to brace on a jagged edge and cutting himself. It hurt but it wasn’t real damage. He got his footing then looked at his hand and blurred it, reforming his unblemished form. There was a little bit of material lost, but he doubted that even with the falling rumble that he had lost more than an inch of his height, and it would be replaced within a few days with the proper supplements.

But that didn’t matter. He was alive and had he been anything other than a Yisv he’d have been crushed to death instantaneously…or left to linger in agony as he slowly died.

There were some side benefits to not being able to carry a weapon into combat, and this was one of them.

Onnet took a few steps up a larger piece of rubble and jumped, transitioning into his ‘ghost’ mode and floating/coasting across about 40 meters of distance before he reformed and got his footing. He repeated the process multiple times until he got out of the rubble field, staying low to avoid attention, only to see that there were more buildings coming down nearby as the Trinx fighters targeted them. He saw a pair of Star Force skeets flash past overhead, indicating that the aerial battle was still underway, but there was nothing he could do about that now. He had a job to do, and that meant getting back into motion.

Finding a bit of clear street Onnet took off running, using his telepathy to find nearby Trinx minds and assess if they were friend or foe. The foes stood out with a blood thirst as they were sent here to kill, kill, kill while the rebels were more focused on protecting and killing in order to meet that end. It was easy to misread, but Onnet wasn’t having any difficulty when he came across a group of five on the other side of the building to his left.

The Yisv turned at the next available corner, launching himself into a coast/jump over a small pile of rubble from a crater about 120 meters up on the building that had been blown out, then he reformed and kept running until he got near the targets, hearing the sound of their infantry weapons shooting inside the building.

Onnet didn’t hesitate, running into the nearest door and heading straight for the attackers and the panicked, desperate minds inside that were being gunned down. A few were intent to fight back, but they were disappearing from his mental view as they were among the first to die.

When he came into sight of them the solid mass of his body blurred and shot straight for them, wrapping around one soldier’s arm and shifting into a liquid/gel state where he could take about any form he wanted. He yanked the weapon free as he rotated around the Trinx, spinning him like a tornado and throwing him into the nearest soldier, knocking them both down as his wispy cloud remained behind, taking two shots from the others that were now focusing on the Yisv.

Staying in cloud form he drifted over to them, then snapped back into physical mode when he was only inches away, punching both apart for a moment as he extended his arms back out as gel and latched onto their weapons, turning them away from his solid body before he got one wrenched free. He tossed it to one of the nearby rebel Trinx who was laying wounded on the ground, then spun one of the soldiers around and threw him closer…where he was gunned down from two meters away.

Flashing back into a cloud he avoided massive damage from another pair of shots, but with each that passed through he lost body mass, though it wasn’t going to matter for this small engagement. Continuing to use his agility and evasiveness to his advantage, he worked the remaining 4 Trinx soldiers over and eventually killed them all with their own weapons.

Onnet reached down and picked up two of the rifles with gel-like limbs and gave them to the nearest rebels/civilians.

“Stay here and stay alive. Give us time and we will free the planet,” he promised before heading back out on the streets to hunt down more extermination squads.

4 months later…

Prefect Nesfa stood behind a wall of guards, the last left as he, and a few Regents as they held within the Ancient shell. They’d retreated here as the rebels and the invaders took section after section of the planet away from them. It seemed right that if they were going to make their last stand that it should be here, in the presence of the Hamoriti they were sworn to protect and in the presence of the Ancients’ legacy.

He stood with the others ready to fight, knowing that fleeing further into the shell was pointless. This was where he would meet his end, and do so with his loyal kin.

When he heard the defensive emplacements outside open fire again he knew the invaders were here, meaning it was time to move forward. He wasn’t going to give any orders from this point on, there were infantry commanders better suited to that. Now he was just one Trinx out of many, and that both humbled and freed him to the purpose of doing as much damage to the enemy as possible before he died.

When the wall of bodies before him moved forward he went with them as the noise of weaponsfire intensified. The defensive batteries that the Trinx had installed just outside the aperture were adding to the shell’s own defenses as the infantry were firing from just inside the Ancient facility so not to get caught in the crossfire. When one of the Trinx in front of him fell, the Prefect could see what was occurring ahead and he stepped forward shoulder to shoulder with the others behind a low barrier as Star Force troops were falling back, several of which appeared to be injured.

Two physical shields of their larger soldiers blocked for them, then there was a pause as the batteries fell silent and both sides were out of vision of the other. He knew there were more enemy soldiers just beyond the entrance, but how long they’d wait before making another assault was the question. He was sorry to see that, once again, the only bodies on the floor were his own people, and he adamantly committed himself to killing at least one of them before this facility was taken.

In the silence a soft set of footfalls was heard, echoing into prominence before the source came into view. Nesfa wondered what it was coming their way, for it didn’t sound like the grouping they’d need to get through the defenses. Then, in casual disrespect, a single Archon walked out at the end of the hallway and stood there looking at them. The Trinx didn’t fire yet, wondering what was happening, and the Archon stood just outside the range of the shell’s weaponry, creating an awkward silence until the set of pink armor began to lightly walk forward.

Nesfa and the others opened fire with their infantry weapons a split second before the larger cannons let loose, but the Archon just kept walking as the energy was stopped by a translucent wall before it. A few more steps up and the shell defenses kicked in, adding to the torrent that the individual was weathering. As it continued to walk forward it reached behind its back and pulled out two narrow cylinders, one in each hand. When the shield wall fell a lot of the energy strikes missed the Archon’s narrow frame with the others hitting a different shield covering the pink armored plates.

Both cylinders suddenly extended into poles, and after another casual step the Archon bolted forward, dodging some of the larger energy blasts as it closed ranks. Nesfa didn’t think it’d stand up to much more damage, but it was the only enemy soldier coming. He kept firing as fast as he could, only managing a few hits before he lost control of his body and dropped his weapon as he fell twitching to the ground.

A moment later he stood up grasping for his rifle. When he got it he saw the pink armor flashing around in front of him, slashing at the troops with some kind of swords and taking them down with single hits. It was within the doorway now, somehow having gotten past the barricades outside. Knowing this was the end he fired another shot, cursing the single Archon that simply…would…not…die.

He got two more shots into its armor, gratifyingly seeing one hit and blast a puff of material away instead of hitting shields before the Archon dashed forward and whipped one of the swords into the side of his head.

Then all was blackness.

When the Prefect woke it was to his great surprise that he was still alive. Despite the numbness pervading his body, he was thoroughly confused as to his whereabouts. He wasn’t in the Ancient facility or the corridors outside. He was inside a small room of alien manufacture and laying on a cushioned platform.

He sat up, suddenly finding himself in different clothes, also of alien design. His head was tingling and it didn’t occur to him that they were of Star Force make until a screen on the wall suddenly activated and an image of a Human appeared.

“Hello. This is an automated message triggered by your waking,” an image of an Archon appearing outside its armor said. Nesfa could tell by the uniform it wore, and it had the same disgusting pink identification stripe as the one that he’d thought had killed him. “You Trinx scum are now prisoners of the exalted ass kickers known as Star Force. We didn’t feel like killing you, so we took your planet from you while preserving your lives. You’re welcome, but don’t mistake the fact that we know this is also an added insult. You wanted to die, so we denied you that, thus preserving your life and spiting you at the same time. That’s how Star Force rolls,” the Human said with a disgusting smile.

“Now, so you’ll be aware of what’s happening, we’re giving you a chance to earn your freedom. Not easily, but it’s there if you want to pursue it. We didn’t spare you just to stick you in a cage and see you rot to death, so you’re going to be given access to training facilities and challenges, as well as instructional material, once you arrive at your final destination. At the moment you are on a transport ship heading there and will remain in this small room for the duration. Using this panel you can view a variety of information to pass the time, but physical training will have to wait until you arrive due to space restrictions on the ship.”

“The purpose of this training is for you to prove yourselves worthy to be released. If you wish to just sit there and slowly wither away that is your prerogative, but we are not going to kill you. Right now you may be defiant. If not that’s good, and you can get on a fast track to eventual release, but if you’re someone who needs some convincing then the isolation you are going to endure may act as motivation.”

“Your journey onboard this ship will be a solitary one, but so too will be your prison. From this point on you have no civilization. You are an individual, and your training will require only yourself. Others would be a distraction and a hindrance. You have to stop being Trinx and aspire to something more. If you don’t care for this that won’t change your situation. You will die here, alone, unless you train to attain self-sufficiency. In that way you will eventually kill yourself or you’ll learn and change so that you’re no longer our enemy. Either way, the Trinx civilization that we came here to destroy will die.”

Nesfa stood up on wobbly legs and punched the screen, but his fist only bounced off the thick, transparent material.

“So get used to your current situation…or not. From this point on I don’t care. I’ve provided you with a path to freedom while sparing your lives. That is the extent of my mercy. What becomes of you from this point forward is up to you. You’ll be kept safely away from anyone you could possible hurt, so you’re no longer a threat. Your planet is now mine and also not your concern. Unless you earn your freedom you won’t be seeing it or anything else again aside from the prison you’re heading to.”

“Fortunately a lot of your former people saw reason and surrendered. We’ll deal with them in varying ways. We’re not giving up on anyone, but we can’t make anyone change. Only nudge you along a bit. The boredom you’re about to endure if you refuse to cooperate will be that nudge, but ultimately if you don’t choose to try then this is where we part ways, never to see one another again, and I say a very heartfelt ‘fuck you’ and end this message.”

The Archon winked and the screen switched over to an options menu.

Rage boiled over inside Nesfa but he didn’t strike the screen or anything else again. It would do no good. He was so angry it literally seeped through his body without an outlet, for he knew he’d already lost everything. His people had rebelled, his planet was lost, the Hamoriti which had been the sole focus and purpose of his civilization was now in the hands of the enemy, and he was a prisoner helpless to do anything about it. Even if he could somehow escape and summon an army it would do no good. Once they awoke it there was no way the Trinx could reclaim it. Their only hope of that lay in advancement that was now out of reach with the loss of the Ancient shell and its captive.

Now he was the captive, not even having been allowed to die in defense of his people and holy cause. He was…spurned, and every second that passed he found his anger was all he had left to cling to.

8

February 26, 3292

Paquat System (Star Force territory)

Vikod (Trinx homeworld)

Oni strode down one of the Trinx streets, the invasion of Vikod long over and the mop up operations on the other planets nearing their end. There was no weaponsfire incoming, just odd looks from the red-skinned, twin headtailed people rallied in protest. They were not going to mess with her, knowing her abilities, but they and the rebel leaders were why she had come down to the planet and they all knew it.

Her brilliant pink armor clashed with their deeper red as the wall of Trinx parted to allow her access to the building they were protesting around. The armed guards there had not been firing back, merely keeping their kin out, but they too did not try and hinder her passage.

Once inside she proceeded to a familiar location, the headquarters for the interim government that was holding Trinx society together while Star Force began to rework it, though she’d only been here in person on two previous occasions. Most ‘visits’ were holographic in nature and the occupants of the chamber she entered were going to wish that had been the means she used to communicate to them regarding their refusal to comply with one of her orders.

A pair of partially repaired vassal guards parted for her at the entrance, with her quietly walking inside rather than making a storm of flying bodies and broken walls. Rather, she simply walked up to the three Trinx seated at a far too large table and stared at them through her helmet, saying nothing. She kept that pose until it began to unnerve them, with Chosan finally standing and facing her, not knowing what she was going to do.

“How do you wish to proceed?” he asked tenderly, knowing she could snap him in half if she so wished.

“The order will be followed, one way or another. The question is how you wish to proceed,” she said through the opaque faceplate with her armor translating.

“We cannot give up our newborns.”

“Can and will,” Oni said defiantly.

“Not willingly,” he said, matching her tone.

“I accepted your surrender on the agreement that you would follow orders. You are not following them now, so where does that leave you?”

“Why must you take them from us?”

“So they will start out fresh in Star Force. You know the reasoning.”

“It does not justify this kidnapping.”

“Rescuing,” she clarified. “They’re better off in the maturias.”

“Taking them away from their parents is not better off.”

“Your civilization failed, and is now being destroyed. Indoctrinating these younglings into your ways then forcing them to change rapidly thereafter is both inefficient and cruel. Better that they learn from the beginning rather than put them behind schedule.”

“I thought that you were going to allow us to keep this planet?”

“The Trinx will keep it, yes, but they will be my Trinx. And my Trinx do not ignore my orders. The infants will join the younglings in the maturia as planned.”

“Will you not even allow them a single year with their parents?”

“No. They will begin in the maturia immediately.”

Chosan bit his lip, obviously containing his anger but knowing that there was no way to force her hand. “So we are just supposed to help you slowly deconstruct our society piece by piece?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be so cold?”

“Cold?” Oni said, anger beginning to seep into her voice. “We are helping you ungrateful bastards that murdered my brothers and sisters and killed far more of our allies over some stupid ego trip. We also removed your corrupt government for you, not to mention are giving you the very big honor of joining Star Force. We are doing you a huge favor, but we are going to do it our way, in every single circumstance. There is no compromise, no negotiation, and your present freedom is dependent on you willfully complying, otherwise you will go to the prison facility and handle your conversion training there rather than here. What part of that is not easily understandable?”

“You spared us, and for that we are in your debt, but you are also destroying us in another form, and that we cannot tolerate.”

“You will tolerate it.”

“No,” another of the Trinx leaders said, also standing, “we will not.”

“Fine,” Oni said, falling silent for a moment as she accessed both of their minds and rendered them unconscious. As they fell she telekinetically grabbed them and pulled their bodies across the table, dumping them next to her feet as she looked at the third leader. “How about you? Prison or work with me?”

“Even if I agree to do so, the crowds outside will not permit the infants to be taken. Handing over the younglings was tenuous enough, but that was in the aftermath of the fighting and everyone was reeling from wounds, emotional or physical, and didn’t have time to fully think things through. They were just happy to still be alive and not in a prison. Now that some normalcy has returned they are thinking, and they’re thinking that they cannot give up the responsibility of their children to Star Force. To do so would be dishonorable, and after all the dishonor we have suffered to add to it would be an even greater tragedy.”

“At least you can talk,” she offered. “All of Star Force raises its younglings in maturia. They are not the responsibility of the parents after birth. The annexation of the Trinx means you will also operate under these protocols. I made that clear over a year ago.”

“Yes you did. People are rethinking the wisdom in complying.”

“Fortunately for those infants I’m not giving their parents any say.”

“If you force this, the planet may well revolt.”

“If it comes to that, so be it. At least then I’ll know who are really serious about working towards a new future and those who are just paying lip service to it. I originally planned to ship every one of you off to the prisons and let you work your way out of them gradually, and I still have that option. The transition will go more smoothly if you comply, but it will go more rapidly if you don’t.”

“You still require our assistance if you want the secrets to our technology.”

“And you want to use that as leverage to force a measure of compromise?”

“If necessary. I do not want to end up fighting my own people again.”

“The answer is still no.”

The Trinx raised his hands helplessly. “Then we are at an impasse.”

“Wrong again,” Oni said, blacking him out and pulling his body through the air until it landed on her left shoulder. She telekinetically picked up the other two and placed Chosan on her right shoulder before stacking the other guy on top of them across both her shoulders. Using her arms and Lachka to hold them in place she began walking back the way she’d come and passed by the vassals who took immediate objection to what she was doing and attempted to help the Trinx as per their programming.

A few telekinetic pushes and pulls resulted in scrambled internal circuitry and two recently formed statues that she left in her wake carrying her sleeping cargo out to the main doors. When she got there the guards parted again, this time not knowing what to make of the situation but fearing what would happen if they dared to strike her.

“Listen up,” she said, not bothering to stand still and give a speech, so she just talked with vocal amplification on her helmet as she walked out into the crowd and away from the building. “These interim leaders are no longer in command. They refused to follow my order and are now being taken to the prison planet. If you don’t want to end up doing your conversion training there then stop defying me. I’m looking out for the wellbeing of the younglings, not your egos, and I don’t care if I have to go around and stun every single one of you on this planet and the others personally, you will not be calling any of the shots from here on out. I give orders, you follow them. Anything else results in you becoming baggage like these three and a ticket to isolation to rethink the wisdom of your actions.”

Oni didn’t say anything else, just continued to walk towards the landing zone she’d signaled the dropship to come get her at, but the crowd didn’t stay silent. They were hesitant to verbally poke at the Archon, but once a few started the others followed and soon there was a deafening roar of protest.

She just ignored it and kept her focus on the area immediately around her, ready to knock down anyone that tried to interfere with her taking the three prisoners but ironically the crowd didn’t want to help them, for they were also on their black list for having been carrying out her other orders.

Oni could tell that from their minds, which she sampled here and there as she walked. A bunch of ungrateful, egotistical bastards…rebels or not. These Trinx were Trinx no matter what their position concerning the ambush was, and it was probably better if she just called down the stun teams and started…

The Archon stopped walking and looked into the crowd, which visibly jerked back when they thought she might be taking too much notice of them. Inside it was a single mind, wildly different from the others. It was angry, not at her, but at the crowd.

“Come here,” she said out loud and telepathically as she used a bit more of her Lachka to make a pathway through the crowd up to the single Trinx that she’d taken notice of. When he froze in place she simply accessed his mind and forced him to walk out to her, then she released his body back to his own control.

“Deervan, come with me please,” Oni said as she turned and started walking again, leaving the Trinx with a moment to make a choice.

Fortunately he made the right one and after a twitch of hesitancy began walking behind her as she parted the crowds ahead as needed with her psionics. None of them were too eager to get close to her, but when they were massed together they got more reckless, thinking the numbers would insulate them from her wrath. One actually threw a rock at her, but it stopped in front of her helmet. She nearly walked into it, but a split second before her armor made contact it was shot back the way it’d come, curving through the air to hit the individual who’d throw it and put a good knot in his forehead.

A few hundred meters later she saw the dropship coming down but didn’t revise her coordinates to bring it directly to her. She left another half mile of brisk walking and visible defiance of the crowds as Deervan quietly trailed behind her. Oni made sure he didn’t get hit by anything either, then when they got to the dropship she dumped the three sleeping Trinx into the air and held them aloft before shooting them like slow moving missiles into the cargo hold under the care of a Knight.

“Do you see that?” Oni asked, standing beside Deervan a few meters away from the boarding ramp as she pointed back at the crowd that was still complaining loudly and in so many words that her armor couldn’t translate it all. “That is why I have to take the infants. So they don’t end up like them. If they raise them, they’re going to try and teach them to be like them, whether on purpose or just through association. The infants have to be separated at birth so they never know this stupidity.”

“I do not disagree.”

“I know you don’t. I know you dislike them as much as they dislike me. Take this moment to soak it in and remember their stupidity and ingratitude. From here on out you’re my liaison to this planet, and we’re going to figure out how many people down here need to be removed and how many can learn the easy way.”

“Me?”

“I’m inside your head,” she said, pointing an armored finger and gently touching his temple as she deactivated her helmet and locked eyes with him. “You have the best interest of your people in mind, therefore I can trust you. Come with me to orbit and we’ll get you situated somewhere that we can control before we send the collection teams in.”

“For them or the infants?”

“Both,” Oni said, placing a hand on his shoulder and directing him up the ramp. “If we stall, the infants lose precious days and they don’t deserve that.”

4 weeks later…

Deervan sat in a nearly empty building in a small sector of the largest city on Vikod as he read through another information packet from Star Force. It was for his personal instruction, and knowing that he’d have to pass various tests later on in order to remain here without having to go through indoctrination in isolation, he dedicated a significant portion of each day to study after attending to his newly minted duties as coordinator of the loyalist faction.

At least that’s what he and some of the others were labeling his position, for there was no official title. Archon Oni had simply put him in charge and he’d been helping her to recruit likeminded, sane Trinx to bring into this sector in order that they could be put to work. Star Force apparently didn’t intend to permanently use the Trinx infrastructure, planning to replace it with their own sometime in the distant future, but they were not wasteful and wanted to salvage as much as they could during the transition process.

They needed all kinds of civilization support going, but most important of all was assistance with understanding and assimilating Trinx science and technology. They were on a similar technological level but much was different between the tools the two empires used, hence Star Force wanted help in learning that they otherwise would have just done on their own from all the captured equipment and databases.

But it was more than that. Foodstuffs had to be produced or shipped into the system, and right now the Trinx production facilities were being maintained to supply the planet’s needs as its population slowly dwindled as more and more ungrateful citizens were taken off the planet. Sadly there were many more left here that had yet to be sorted out from the rest, but within this isolated and protected sector there were only the faithful, and it was his job to pass orders from Oni to them and information back to her while keeping everyone accounted for and organized…most of whom far outranked him in Trinx society. He was but a simple factory worker before the invasion, though now he was liaison to the warlord that had mercifully conquered them.

But he knew that his position would not last. It would disappear when no longer needed and the new generations of Trinx being raised in Star Force maturia would lead the way. He and the others could find a place with them if they proved themselves worthy and learned the Star Force ways, abandoning the past and embracing the future, which was why he was committed to his studies and training, the latter of which he did in the mornings before setting himself to the day’s tasks. He never knew for sure when a new order would come down from Oni, but the following morning was one such occasion.

It didn’t come in the form of a hologram, but rather a text message still written in Trinx for it would take him and the others a long time to learn the Star Force language. In the brief message that followed she instructed him to ready more of the residential buildings to accept another 382 loyal individuals that had been rounded up and to incorporate them into the operational structure according to their skillsets…which he would have to determine and then appoint their various appropriate positions.

Attached were their identities and no more. The Trinx filing system was what his people were maintaining, and if Star Force needed something they’d come to him, not the other way around, so he took the list of names and began looking up their personal histories while seeing what available slots he needed filled and which ones he could expand upon. Priorities went first, but there was no structure in place to tell him where to appoint whom. It was all based on his judgement and he often wondered what about him had made the Archon give him this gigantic responsibility.

He was curious but had never asked the question, gladly accepting it and paying as much attention to his duties as he could to prove Oni correct.

“Coordinator,” an aide said, jolting him from his trance staring into the holographic panel before him.

“What is it?” he asked, blinking his eyes twice.

“I’ve just received word from the Hamoriti site. They report the construction will be complete within the week. They recommend we begin evacuating the area.”

Deervan nodded solemnly, for there was no greater matter of importance within Trinx society than the Hamoriti, though it was soon to be taken from them to be put in the care of better hands.

“I’ll inform Star Force,” he acknowledged, with the aide quietly returning to his duties and Deervan to his while getting a weird trepidation regarding that transfer…as if it was a monumental turning point in history that he was having the fortune to be present at.

9

April 3, 3297

Nearkod System (Occupation Zone)

Inner Zone

The Excalibur came out of its jump into the former lizard core system at the head of a convoy…which wasn’t all that peculiar, given that many Star Force convoys passed through this system to get to the front, using it as a traffic nexus and supply depot. There were sixteen habitable planets that were still producing recycled materials from the lizard infrastructure that were feeding Star Force factories on the ground and in the captured ring shipyards, of which this system had the most known to exist.

There were 9 here spread across seven planets, two of which had doubles, which was rare. The reason this system had them was due to the unbelievably high deposits of natural resources. In addition to the sixteen habitable planets, there were more than a hundred others that were barren lumps of rock full of precious ores. The lizards hadn’t been mining those worlds so much as consuming them, with three having visible chunks already taken out of them and a fourth that was barely a wedge and looked more like an ugly asteroid, for that was all that was left of it.

Processing all that material locally was more viable than shipping it off to other core systems to handle the load so even while this system wasn’t the tops within the former lizard hierarchy it did have the most raw production value. That was all in the past now, and those shipyards were just ghosts of their former selves save for a few spots within them that had been converted to Star Force’s use.

There were a few defensive forces in the system, which was usual to protect the recycling facilities and other sparse inhabitants. No full colonies had been built here as of yet. It was simply a work zone that sported several million people.

A command ship arriving was a common enough sight for the warships meant to monitor and defend the system, but seeing that it was Paul’s command ship caught their eye as a message from him flashed across the comm systems telling them to stand down and allow him to assume command of system defense.

That wasn’t necessary, but still his prerogative. The ship captains acknowledged the order just as their laggy sensors began registering the lizard ships jumping into the system behind the Excalibur…and the fact that Paul was tagging them as friendlies.

The mastermind known as Thrawn entered the system in one of the many lizard jumpships, his identity not known to any outside observer nor logged within fleet systems. That was standard practice to keep him from being targeted and even now under the protection of Star Force he didn’t feel like breaking the habit. He received his orders from Paul via relays and did not even think the Archon knew which ship he was on, for he’d tried to hide that fact from him as well during the uploading in Krachnika.

His fleet followed Paul’s command ship out to Miit orbit, which was one of the two planets with twin rings, one situated above the other with an interval of some 580 miles between them and connected via support struts just like the inner ring was connected to the surface. Paul signaled for him to meet him in person onboard the outer ring, providing the coordinates and no other explanation.

Thrawn did as instructed and took a small transport over to the massive space station, finding no one present. He walked, alone, out of the hangar bay for a few minutes before he came to the compartment he was told to go to and waited there, finding it to be little more than an empty storage chamber several hundred meters long and high.

A few minutes later a group of Humans entered, with Paul being the last in line. He walked quicker than them and got to Thrawn first with the others visibly questioning his presence here. The Archon gave him a translation piece of Human design and the mastermind slid it on over his head like a headband before they began talking, for to this day he still hadn’t bothered to learn the Star Force language.

“This is Administrator Keery,” Paul began, gesturing to the Human nearest him, “Administrator Keller, Administrator Harvey, Baron Trew, and Tech Gregory Kotch. They run all operations in this system, and I felt it was best they met with you face to face as I explain the situation so there is no miscommunication.”

“Wise,” Thrawn said, measuring up the shorter Humans.

Paul turned to the Humans. “This is Thrawn, the only mastermind amongst the surrendered lizards and the reason any of them bothered to surrender in the first place. I can vouch for him, that he will not attempt any subterfuge, and that his ships will follow his orders. I know mine will, so there shouldn’t be a conflict here so long as we all know what’s going on.”

“What is going on?” the Baron asked.

“This outer ring is being returned to them so they can process the materials they will be mining from planets 43, 56, 58, and 62,” Paul said, indicating the ones that had been so heavily harvested they were no longer spheres. “That means their mining ships are going to be traveling across the system on a regular basis and they’ve already been rebuilt to register on our battlemap and vice versa without them having full access to it. If by some chance an enemy lizard ship showed up here you’ll be able to see which ones are ours and so will they,” he said, gesturing to the mastermind.

“Will they be shipping material out of the system as well?”

“No. Everything is staying local and a percentage of what they harvest will be turned over to you through the connecting columns. The rest they’re going to use to start building ships for me.”

“Star Force or lizard tech?” Keery asked.

“Lizard. New designs we’ve been working on.”

“To what end?” he asked, looking at their former enemy questioningly.

“A project of mine. I need you to leave them to work on their own. They’ve brought enough supplies to sustain themselves and I’ll bring in more as needed, but they’re going to be reworking this ring to provide a lot of stuff so don’t concern yourself with any odd construction activities. So long as they stay here and don’t cross over, just ignore them.”

“And if they do?”

“Take notice and inform me,” Thrawn said evenly. “I will be personally overseeing this operation until I am satisfied that it is stable enough for me to leave in other hands.”

“What kind of resources will I be getting?” the Baron asked, but not to Paul.

“A comprehensive load,” Thrawn answered. “We are not searching for individual materials, but will be collecting and harvesting bulk material and utilizing every part of it possible. Final manifests will be decided by what raw materials are recovered on a day to day basis.”

“Are we open to trades?” Trew asked, this time looking at Paul.

The Archon raised an eyebrow. “I had intended for you to each keep to your corners, but if you can find arrangements that are mutually advantageous I see no reason not to.”

“Is there a security concern with contact?”

“Possibly,” he admitted, “but usually they do as he instructs. Press them into an uncomfortable situation and they might revert to past habits. I assume you can avoid creating such a situation?”

“If you trust him, then I think we can work something out.”

“I’ll leave it to you two then. How soon can you evacuate this ring?”

“Give me twelve hours,” Administrator Keery said. “I don’t have much here, which is why I assume you chose this ring. Do I need to post guards on the columns?”

“Surveillance, but no guards. Aside from handing over materials there should be no travel up or down.”

“My people will not explore on their own volition,” Thrawn promised. “And I will instruct them where the boundaries lie.”

“Then I see no reason why we shouldn’t be able to make this work. Are you going to keep bringing in more people periodically?”

“We will grow what we need here.”

All sets of Human eyes turned to Paul and he gave them a confirming nod.

“Space traffic?” the Baron inquired.

“We have access to your systems and will avoid your ships whenever prudent. Our patterns will become evident and not alter, making our movements predictable for your ships to also avoid.”

“Are they armed?” Koch asked.

“Their current ships aren’t, but the ones they’re going to build for me will be. Though it’s in its infancy, you can consider this operation to be under the Clan Saber mantle and these lizards to be contractors that I’ve hired, if that helps you mentally settle.”

“Ah…that it does,” Trew said with a touch of gratitude. “Will you be returning to collect the produce or funneling it through me?”

“It’ll stock pile here until I pick it up. Don’t concern yourself with it…this is just an independent operation that just happens to be camping out in your backyard. Your duties here have not altered save for the bonus material you’ll be getting and any side deals the two of you set up. Their oversight is Clan Saber responsibility.”

“Very well, then. I won’t pry and we’ll stay out of each other’s way. Will they be reclaiming any other orbitals?”

“No. Just this one ring.”

“Just,” Keery repeated, citing the irony in that given how massive a construction it was, and drawing a glance from Paul. “I don’t have a problem with it. We’ve got too many of them to use anyway. It’s basically just sitting here collecting dust.”

“Good,” Paul said, clapping his hands once in finality. “Introductions made, now let’s all get busy. We’ll be converting this chamber and everything in a 1.5 mile radius around the closest hangar into a transitional area. I assume you have no assets to remove anywhere near that?”

“No. Nothing within a thousand miles, actually.”

“Then there’s no reason to delay, unless there are other questions. Koch, I do need you for something else though, so stick around.”

The Baron looked at his Administrators. “You heard the man. Back to work,” he said with a sarcastic drone.

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Thrawn,” Keery said, offering him a nod that wasn’t returned as the four men walked back towards the door they’d entered through.

“You don’t like us, do you?” the tech asked the mastermind.

“Like is irrelevant. I am here with a mission.”

“Do we annoy you?”

“You’re starting to annoy me,” Paul interrupted. “I need your appraisal of something.”

“Sure,” Koch said, a spark of interest at suggested work.

“Follow us,” Paul said as he and Thrawn headed for the same door the others had just left through.

The tech frowned, then did as told and followed the pair, noting the tail swag of the lizard that dwarfed Paul’s small body. If he hadn’t been an Archon Koch would have been a little worried about his safety. It looked like this Thrawn could kill him within a few seconds through brute strength alone if he wanted, not to mention the claws he was carrying on both hands and feet, which were bare despite the ornate robe he was wearing.

Eventually they worked their way to the hangar that had the lizard Kirby sitting in it along with several other lizards that put Koch even more on edge. They were standard variants, and to his surprise they did have weapons. Handheld ones anyway, but Paul walked towards them as if they were no different than Star Force Commandos.

Then as they approached another lizard came out, this one a scientist variety that he’d only seen pictures of, though most of the lizards he’d personally encountered were dead ones pulled out of rubble, but he was fairly sure this type wasn’t one of them.

But what was even more odd was the fact that it wasn’t green, it was dark shade of blue.

It carried a large case that it set on the ground in front of them and opened up, out of which came the familiar sight of Star Force tech. The trailblazer pointed down at it.

“Inspect these.”

“What am I looking for?” he asked, keeping a wary eye on the lizards as he knelt down and pulled one of some 28 components out and held it in his hand, twisting it around and easily identifying its purpose. It was a power transfer conduit that was used in just about every building and ship Star Force manufactured. There were several varieties that he had come into contact with over the years as improvements were made, but this looked to be one of the most recent model.

Spinning it about and hefting it in his hand he tried to spot any irregularities and found none, so he put it down and picked up another item that he saw to be a micro structural brace used in walls to support add-ons to the primary frame. It and several of the other varied parts all checked out until he came to a flat structural panel sample that looked to be about 9 inches square. He tapped on it twice, then tried to bend it. That felt about right, but his gut said something was off so he pulled a multi-tool out of his pocket and touched a resonator to it as he altered the frequency of the vibrations that he was sending into the material.

12 seconds later it shattered in his hand, falling into more than a dozen pieces as Koch looked up at the lizards, then back at Paul. “They built these, didn’t they?”

“Yes, but apparently not well enough. What did you just do?”

“Exploited a little known weakness that we had to compensate for. The crystalline structure that gives the rigidity is linked to a bendable polymer in a lattice that is very resistant to vibration. This gives the paneling extended life because it reduces the range of impacts that will fracture it on both a macroscopic and microscopic level. But…we discovered there was one particular frequency that the crystal segments practically melted under and we had to make a slight alteration in their alignment within the polymer. Solved the problem, but we didn’t actually change the material any. Just reconfigured it. I’m guessing you gave them the theoretical blueprints to work off of and not the factory notes?”

“Guilty as charged,” Paul said, though not showing any shame. He was actually a bit impressed, Koch thought. “I didn’t want them copying our manufacturing facilities, only the final products, so I had them figure out how to do it on their own.”

“Are they going to be making more of these here too?” he asked as he picked up another component and began an equally thorough inspection.

“Yes, but for our use. The ships they’re building will be lizard tech.”

“Reparations?”

“Assistance,” Paul corrected, “to Clan Saber.”

“Another contract?”

“Something along those lines. We’re going to expand the production list beyond these items in this facility and I need you to do quality checks on the new models as they come out. If their manufacturing origin can be determined to be anything other than a standard factory they fail.”

“Well, these other items are good as far as I can visually tell. Need to put them through some more rigorous tests to be sure though.”

“Do so to your satisfaction. When one meets your approval log it with a message tag for me as well as telling him, then he’ll begin mass production.”

“Can never have too many spare parts,” Koch said approvingly as he put the last item back in and stood up. “Can I have these?”

Paul nodded. “If you find any other flaws, let him know that too.”

“Standard comm grid ID?”

“Yes. He’s the only lizard contact in there.”

“Should make him easy enough to find. Do you want me to help them with the paneling problem?”

“Just give them the frequency to adjust for.”

“12,883.6 hertz. Do their translators have an equivalent measurement?”

“Yes,” Thrawn answered, having heard it in his native language.

“Alright then,” Koch said, grabbing the case. “Send any more prototypes down the columns with Star Force’s cut of resources and I’ll inspect them and get a report back to both of you. Anything else, Archon?”

“Not today. And thanks.”

“Always a pleasure to work with prototypes,” he said, cracking a smile as he left and glad to get some distance from the lizards.

Thrawn waited until he was gone from the hangar before speaking. “My apologies for the flaw.”

“It’s my fault. I didn’t know there was one that had to be compensated for.”

“Never the less, it slipped by us. That should not happen,” he said, glaring at the blue scientist.

“We replicated and tested within the parameters given,” it said without defiance. “We should begin extraneous testing to search for defaults on our own.”

“Do so from now on,” Thrawn said, miffed at the stench of incompetence on the threshold of a grand new opportunity.

“Well,” Paul said, throwing his arms wide and gesturing to the shipyard in which they stood. “All yours now. Feel free to redecorate as you like.”

10

February 2, 3301

Alamo System

Stellar Orbit

There were no Uriti in the system when the Preema fleet arrived by the thousands escorting one very large cargo ship that contained their sleeping passenger. Waiting for them instead was a small Star Force fleet and a scattering of KoQ ships, with the remainder keeping all other traffic within the system far away from the convoy as it redirected further out into the high zone to an isolated area where they began unpacking the Uriti.

The transport ship started peeling off in segments, not per some grandiose design, but being the result of explosive releases built into the single-use transport. Inside through the gaps the new Uriti owners got their first glimpse of the green, snake-like Barratim where it was coiled up in a ball of flesh less than 2 miles wide that was crisscrossing itself in a multitude of what looked like uncomfortable bends.

As the transport continued to peel away the sedative feeds were cut off, but no signal came to wake the beast up prematurely. Rather, the artificial gravity was cut out and the Uriti was allowed to float in place as the ship segments were removed from around it, eventually allowing it back into the freedom it once knew while still asleep, though a few visible twitches were beginning to occur.

The salvageable part of the transport flew away to safety as the nearby control ship sent its first communication, prompting a violent lurch as the uncomfortable bends tried to right themselves and the Uriti got caught up on its own body. It took several minutes until it regained enough consciousness to smoothly pull itself apart and stretch out to its full 39 mile length. It was only 700 meters wide, but contained within that apparently narrow body was enough kinetic weapons emitters to physically propel anything around it back at an incredible rate, sending attacking ships outside their targeting range if they managed to survive at all.

A small burst of such energy manifested from the ‘front’ end of the simple shape that had a slightly narrower tip than the ‘tail.’ That energy appeared as an emerald translucent wall that expanded out like a nuclear blast and sent fragments of the disassembled transport ship careening away at high speed and in small chunks, for it hit them as if the field was itself solid, but no further outbursts came as the Uriti got itself oriented to space again while the command ship made contact and gave it its first orders.

It complied with the redirect, twisting around and stretching out its length onto the new course given to it as it headed in towards the star. With that first simple exchanging being a success, it was immediately entered into the indoctrination program that the Sety and Trinx Uriti had gone through upon arriving, though by now the process was somewhat more streamlined.

Several weeks later, still without negative incident, the Zeus and the escort convoy for the Uriti came into the system along with their charges. The four Uriti immediately took notice of the newcomer and vice versa, with the order for them all to meet in a specific location being sent before they could try and move out on their own. Nami moved the fastest, getting there ahead of its three familiar siblings and considerably ahead of the newcomer, then she waited patiently for the others to arrive.

That was a good sign, for unexpected stimuli like this were a longtime worry of Nefron’s. The more he studied the Uriti the more he began to realize just how little control over them the Chixzon had had. Their notes and knowledge bequeathed to him through his genetic legacy had not told the full truth…that the Uriti could easily disobey their commands if a higher priority arose. He’d known about issues regarding feeding and damage, but apparently boredom and joy could also supply the basis for an override.

The fact that Nami and the others had not gone straight for the new Uriti indicated that as long as they thought they were going to get what they needed they would still comply, even if it was inefficient. But what would happen if they ordered them to go different ways without meeting up? Based off neural readings it’d be a coin flip as to whether or not they’d side with orders or giving in to the moment, so it was absolutely necessary to construct orders as compatible with their desires as possible to insure they remained in control.

And with the newcomer heeding the order as well, that meant it wasn’t just a learned obedience. Nefron was fairly sure the others were, in fact, learning new tricks and techniques, and it was easy to lose perspective when you had them here and were working alongside them. Some things they simply did because they were routine, or so the theory went, and he was glad that this one wasn’t going to be a problem and had accepted the conflictory order without hesitation.

When the five of them met up the ships stayed well back, and almost immediately there was a cascade of lightning between them traveling from the four originals to the newcomer that the Archons officially labeled ‘Zolom.’ From the readings it wasn’t in pain, and in fact its status as viewed by Nefron, troubled as it was after so long under sedation, was improving greatly. The lightning was actually washing out the remaining sedative from Zolom and sharing data at the same time. It was more than just telepathy, but more like a direct download, and of what no one knew for sure, but when it happened the situation always seemed to improve.

Riley had referred to it as ‘scratching the dog’ and whatever purpose it served was a binary one, for Nefron was fairly sure they couldn’t summon the affect alone. As he monitored the interactions he began to catalog the wide array of damage done to Barratim and plan out an individualized training program to start it on the path to recovery, including a ‘supplement’ of various rare materials that Star Force would occasionally feed them. They could get most of the same stuff from the stars and planets in the Preserve, but the ingots that Nefron had dispatched to another location in the system were much more concentrated despite the fact they were only 2-meter wide cubes of various alloys.

When two such cubes were placed he ordered Barratim to travel to the location and consume them, again proud that the other Uriti didn’t chase after it or go after the materials themselves. Whether it be training or nature they were behaving themselves, and despite the inability of Star Force to find a way to directly communication with them, Nefron was establishing secondary and often crude means of collaboration that at least allowed them to be able to predict one another.

Even before the order was given, two of the Uriti had drifted out of position as far as their orders would allow closest to the beginning of the obstacle course that he was just about to tell them to move to. When he did finally let them go they rushed to the starting point, almost as if they wished to show off…or perhaps show the newcomer what it was supposed to do?

That was another interesting possibility, and while Nefron had very few concrete answers he had a lot of research capability to avail himself of with these five and several others planning to be moved here as well. All of The Nine’s Uriti would be coming, plus one more from far across the galaxy that the KoQ would be escorting along with a small Star Force contingent that contained a control ship just in case the transport that was being built failed and the Uriti was released prematurely.

Fortunately that hadn’t happened with this one, but given the power these beasts possessed you couldn’t afford to take chances.

Getting the Uriti here wasn’t his problem. Learning about them and their interactions was, with the goal of true communication not having been abandoned. It was simply going to take longer than anyone expected, and there was no way to guess how long it would take before they discovered or stumbled on the means by which to get the Uriti’s attention without using the inbred control methods.

For right now though, he had his own herd of Uriti to study their interactions with each other, for he was certain if he could figure out how they achieved even minimal exchanges from the others he would stand a chance of finding a way to imitate it, so the more Uriti they could get here chatting with each other the better.

That, and it was best to keep them out of the reach of others’ hands, whether they be responsible ones or not.

Tennisonne watched the reaction levels closely, making sure the 16 injector ports were functioning in a stable manner before creeping the rates up. What he had brewing inside the kilometer-wide test facility in Venus orbit was a dangerous beast of a machine that he’d been chasing for centuries, but right now it seemed to be holding steady. The trickle of power coming from it was considerable, but nowhere near even low levels of designed output. That in itself was an achievement but not a satisfactory test. He had to reach at least 15 terawatts and achieve a stable reaction to be able to proceed to phase two of this project, and whenever he amped up the reaction rate is when he’d lost it in recent decades.

But with each failure came knowledge, or at least speculation, and he and his advanced team were at it once again with another set of calibrations. The reason they weren’t on Earth wasn’t due to the fact that they didn’t have room…for there was still plenty of ocean floor left to colonize if need be…but rather the fact that if Tennisonne really screwed up, he and this facility would go boom and take anything nearby with them. V’kit’no’sat power generators such as this were small, some the size of half a Sparrow-class dropship, and they had safety mechanisms within them that would collapse the reaction if a failure occurred.

Tennisonne couldn’t even get a proper reaction to be sustained, let alone had the ability to control an errant one, thus this station had been built to insure that if he spectacularly failed no one other than his research team would die.

But there was no risk of that now, for when they planned a test such as this the facility was evacuated and they were handling it remotely. It was when they were in actual hardware mode and building and tweaking the equipment that there was danger. Right now the only thing in jeopardy of dying was the reactor itself, and if this test run got away from him in a bad way they’d lose it and have to start all over again.

Working off of past mistakes and charting what part of the reactions were predictable, Tennisonne tried yet another approach in order to isolate what would and wouldn’t work, but this time the collisions of 13 solari and three other exotic particles were holding together. In the past when the bombardment saturation escalated beyond short chain reactions there was randomized bleed over that interfered rather than enabled the full process to take shape and really amp up the power generation. The weaker reactions were capable of producing power beyond what Star Force was currently capable of yielding, but they were just tantalizing distractions while the real prize lay so close before them.

Tennisonne hadn’t taken the bait and kept his research on track for the big toys as far as power generation was concerned. The V’kit’no’sat had many methods, and collection and storage was not what he was going for here. He needed a reactor to provide continuous power that could then be stored for release later, much like the jumpships did to charge their drives to get enough push off of stars to attain the speeds necessary for decent interstellar travel. If one went off of reactor power alone they’d be limping along because reactors just couldn’t put out the juice necessary to achieve a standard jump in the short timespan they had before diminishing gravity made the endeavor useless.

The reaction before him was extremely complicated, but to sum it up it was a ‘Mouse Trap’ series of very small interactions between subatomic particles whose end result basically bled them of all potential energy like a person taking a wet sponge and squeezing hard, then taking that sponge and throwing it into a compactor to get every last drop out. The resultant waste material was useless, power wise, and so inert that it bonded easily to other particles rather than fighting with them for dominance in the invisible subatomic realm.

That waste material was corovon, which was a very valuable substance that Star Force mined with an aggressive appetite, but for this reactor that was just the icing on the cake. It was the sheer power production potential that was key here, and in order to attain a full reaction and start having the reactor puffing out corovon dust, Tennisonne had to get his tiny bouncing particles choreographed just right.

Today was the day he accidentally stumbled onto the solution…or rather a solution. It was crude but functional, and that was all he was going for in this prototype. The reactor surged up to 21 terawatts for a brief .372 seconds then fell off again, with Tennisonne immediately reviewing what alterations he’d made to trigger it and trying to guess as to how all the subatomic particles were bouncing around, for with such things they were too small to fully track. A lot of imagination and guess work were needed in experimentation like this, equivalent to someone on the other side of a wall with vision of the subject matter answering his questions with only a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’

Even when he succeeded Tennisonne could only guess as to why, but so long as the machine worked he had something. In the past, sometimes his successes weren’t for the reasons he thought and that stalled further progress, forcing him to go back and try to find a way around his theoretical dead end, but for today he had a solution that gave him a hugely oversized Nash’ti reactor that was producing power at rate far superior to anything Star Force had in production at present.

The next step was to repeat his good fortune, and within a few hours he had a good grip on the basics of a new idea as to what was happening and got the machine into alignment again and held it for six hours straight before manually shutting it down.

This was working, meaning they’d finally done it. Now was time to kick back, turn this over to the lesser techs for analysis, and take a few days off to clear his head and get back into theoretical mode. As reports would flow into him he’d digest the little bits of data they provided, hopefully gaining a few more insights as he sought a way to build the same reactor in a smaller form…then a smaller one, and smaller and smaller until it was actually useable.

And to do that he was going to have to truly master this complex reaction. Right now he was just beginning to learn, and there was no one else to turn this over to. He was the trailblazer amongst the experimental physics teams, and while he could let the others do a lot of the analysis work that now had to be done, no one else had the knowledge and experience to be able to brainstorm into the unknown…at least not as fast as he did. And even though they had V’kit’no’sat blueprints for everything, they were constructed in a way that assumed prior knowledge and Tennisonne had learned that he had to ignore them a lot of the time and build his equipment his way.

And that’s what this monstrosity was. It didn’t even look like a V’kit’no’sat design, for it wasn’t, but that wasn’t to say their blueprints hadn’t been crucial in teaching him what he needed to know, even if they were extremely and frustratingly vague in some respects.

As he logged today’s results he sent a message off to Davis concerning the breakthrough then checked himself out of techland to give his head a chance to recover from the semi-brain fried state he usually operated in. They’d made the next step, a big one, but to continue on he was going to need all the inspiration and ingenuity he had…and that meant getting some rest and resetting.

Davis was in his office when Tennisonne’s message came in. He had a priority router on everything that came from the Master Tech and read it immediately, understanding the gravity in the very prim and succinct message.

Star Force now had a Nash’ti reactor.

He stood up from his desk and began to pace the perimeter of his office as the evening light was just beginning to dim in the west. This breakthrough wasn’t useable yet other than in large constructs or on the surface, but he knew that Tennisonne would be able to refine and miniaturize it given time, as he always did. That didn’t concern him, though he knew he couldn’t expect any timetable in such work.

But Star Force now had the capability, even in prototype stage, and that was monumental. A few weapon systems, the comm equipment, and some lesser techs Star Force had already caught up to the V’kit’no’sat on. It wasn’t their top model stuff, but it was all currently used by them as of the fall of Earth. While they could have surpassed it since then, it was functional and useable tech at the time rather than mothballed or recorded designs relegated to history files within the pyramid databanks.

Davis knew from an industrial and military perspective how valuable this was as the ramifications ran through his head as he began redesigning all the infrastructure on Earth and the Solar System in a flash. Everything would have to be reworked, ships would have to be brought into dock for overhauls, city infrastructure would have to be tore out and replaced…and that would not be a cheap or fast process. He couldn’t rely simply on new designs, Star Force tech lasted so long that there wasn’t much turnover and the bulk of his empire rested on ‘old’ models. For a power upgrade such as this he’d have to rework existing equipment while fielding a trickle of new production models.

Eventually he stopped and rested an elbow against the clear floor to ceiling window as he looked out across Atlantis, but with his mind being in a thousand other places. All this time they’d been so far behind the V’kit’no’sat it would have been like going up against tanks with two sticks and a rock, but now…

“Now we have a fighting chance,” he whispered to himself and the galaxy[T3].

Collaboration

1

August 18, 3327

Teelmot System (lizard territory)

Bargon

Sander-33091 jumped across a narrow ravine, clawing with his armored legs on the far embankment as he came up a bit short. The mage scrambled up the side and stayed low to the ground, taking a knee and telekinetically helping two others jump across. Their leaps were almost as good as his, but with the psionic help both of them landed beside him on the sandy hunk of rock and continued on running without delay.

Sander got to his feet and chased after them, eventually passing the pair of Protovic Mavericks and retaking the lead on the trail as he scanned the skies for more lizard wisps. They’d already taken down 14 of them using their psionics, but both Sander and Jarron had melted spots in their armor where their shields hadn’t fully held up against the phaser strikes.

The trio was making good speed over ground, far faster than the lizard infantry that had tried to pursue them, but the problem inherent at this moment was the lack of air cover, for there were very few Star Force troops on this planet. Rather than coming in with overwhelming force, Star Force was deploying more and more low key invasions that required more skill than firepower to successfully take a world and this one was no exception.

With only a handful of lizard colonies here, a single warship had been dispatched along with three troop ships, the mechs from which were busy hammering one colony’s defenses while Sander and his two sidekicks had come out of a subterranean facility that they’d just finished scouting…except they’d come out in a location they hadn’t planned, for there had been far more lizards underground than above, and he was counting the entire planet.

It was supposed to be a three man cleanout crew instead of using thousands of Scionate troops that didn’t fight so well in tight confines underground. They also had an Axius unit with them that was better suited to the task, but Sander had expected to take on the biggest challenges for himself and had gotten in over his head on this one. With so many det packs going off in close quarters, the trio had to get out of that underground facility by the quickest route possible and by the time they did their dropship pickup couldn’t get to them, for a swarm of wisps had come up out of hidden bunkers and laid claim to the area.

Sander couldn’t call off fighters from the current engagements to cover them, so with very few reserves to work with the trio was moving overland and as far away from the base as they could while the few pilots they had available were trying to work out a retrieval plan. The faster and farther the Archon and Mavericks ran the better off they’d be, so they were covering ground as quickly as possible though the rough desert/scrub terrain was making it difficult in spots.

The two Protovic wore armor identical to the Archon version he had, save for theirs was multicolored red/black that clashed with his monotone dark blue. That was so people would recognize the Mavericks for who and what they were more than for function’s sake. All Star Force armor was built around an agile frame, just with slight modifications per the mission profile. Given that Mavericks had the same mission profile as Archons it had seemed appropriate to give them the same style of armor, albeit with a different color scheme.

And these two had had to earn it time and again following Sander around on missions. They were here to help him out and learn in the process, acting as the JV version of Archons and having one new psionic given to them. Both were yellows, the first tier of the Protovic ranking system past ‘final form,’ and while that didn’t incur any special powers it did note an incredible amount of skill and experience. Tiers 2 and 3 hadn’t yet been reached by any Protovic due to their difficulty level, and it wasn’t because they weren’t trying. The Trailblazers had simply made them stupidly hard to achieve.

The Maverick program selected special individuals that had already achieved final form, drawing out of the pink Blues those who demonstrated Archon-like tendencies, most notably the ability to think outside the box. Those that qualified were sent to a separate training program that Wilson had designed along with Brad, crafting the new ‘Mavericks’ that functioned as Archon sidekicks with their own smaller batch of psionics to give them an advantage over most other races.

The only addition to the standard skillset was the addition of a Protovic version of Rensiek, the heating ability that kept the Protovic from freezing in cold climates as well as having the ability to light things on fire with the touch of a very hot hand. It was speculated that over time a few more abilities would be given to the Mavericks, though giving them any V’kit’no’sat psionics had been a long standing point of contention. Thus far though, Sander thought it had been a good idea…and both of his sidekicks had proven their merit on multiple occasions.

As they were now, keeping up with him over the rough terrain as another stupid wisp came at them alone. He telepathically told the two Mavericks to take it on their own, saving his own skills as backup as they continued to run hard to put more distance between themselves and the lizard base.

A line of phaser blasts stitched by them as the wisp spun up with its nose going into the sky then rotating on around to point straight down as the lizard pilot flew into the ground with a loud screeching crunch…thanks to a telepathic haze covering its thoughts as if it were blind, into which a sensation was adding directing the pilot to head for the ground. It didn’t know where it was going, but the prompts the two Mavericks were working together to achieve directed the pilot through trickery, baiting him into killing himself.

The Protovic telepathy wasn’t that good, so they’d been developing lots of cheats to copy what the Archons did. In this case it was tricking the lizard pilot to fly where they wanted him to rather than by taking control of its mind, which they couldn’t even do alone at this range. One of them had to blanket him with mental static while the other offered a way out of the mess that led to the fighter’s crash when the pilot took the only available route to him…from his point of view.

It wasn’t a nice thing to do, but when someone was trying to kill you that wasn’t a big concern.

Well done, Sander said telepathically. Hopefully they keep throwing them at us in singles.

Why are they still doing it? Linnar asked as he vaulted over a boulder rather than run around it a few steps. That leap got him ahead of the Archon but he slowed a touch and fell back in line shoulder to shoulder with him.

Not sure. Think we’re far enough away?

Do it, Jarron said as all three of them kept running.

Sander opened up his comm system, sending a powerful and very obvious signal up to orbit. Stealth wasn’t useful now, for the wisps could see them skittering across the surface easy enough. Why they didn’t send larger groups after them he wasn’t sure, though after the first bunch they’d brought down it would make sense for them not to waste anymore…yet they had just sent this one to its easy death.

He’d probably never know the reason, so he tucked the small question away in his memory as a blob of energy fell from the sky behind them and mushroomed on top of the base, the sight of which got to them before the shockwave did. Sander gave them a heads up and all three skidded to a sliding halt as they hit the ground, face planting as the concussion ripple ripped through the atmosphere from the bloon strike.

In the past such a tactic hadn’t been an option, but given that Star Force had stuck with the tech like a mynock on a power cable over the centuries they’d been able to upgrade the bloon launchers considerably…including the ability to send some varieties down into atmosphere without them falling apart from the friction. This one had been specifically designed for orbital bombardment and Sander had commed the ship earlier to get into position as they were running away from the facility. It had to be situated just outside the atmosphere, and as the Archon looked up above the mushroom cloud he could see the small Warship-class jumpship in holding orbit overhead…which meant it was riding its gravity drives to stay in position with no lateral movement that a powerless orbit would entail.

A few seconds later the ripple hit them and all three suits of armor were tossed across the ground with them digging their armored fingers in and scratching huge lines across the dry dirt until they settled again. Wind whipped around chaotically as the atmosphere began to compensate, but Sander was able to stand up again shortly and survey the damage from afar. He couldn’t see the crater that had been blasted into the ground and hopefully opening up the top of the base, but he could see the wisps that were still in the sky…and far too many of them.

“Looks like we’re not going back in on foot,” he commented as the two Mavericks stood up and dusted their armor off with a few thigh and chest hits. Neither had had their shields up so they could get as close to the ground as possible. They’d needed the traction, whereas the shield would have been a slippery buffer and they didn’t have the mental skillset yet to raise and lower specific portions telepathically. “Too many fighters left.”

“That had to take some of them down,” Jarron said earnestly.

“Orbital count says 17. No, we’re going to have to go back in once we clear that cover. It’ll be a few days at least.”

“Think they’ll seal over that hole?” Linnar asked.

“Probably. But we can punch through their patches or dig some more tunnels of our own. There’s a lot less dirt covering it than before,” he said as he got a waypoint some 6 more miles out that a dropship pilot thought he could pluck them out from. Sander acknowledged the signal and highlighted the location on his HUD. “Pickup is 6 miles out. Let’s get going.”

“How’s it look?” Jarron’s glowing blue/yellow face said as he walked into the small planning room onboard the Archer that Sander liked to use rather than the bridge to oversee planetary operations. It was quieter, not to mention not having to deal with ship’s duties. He could trust the Captain to oversee those while he focused on the larger picture…which was decidedly small compared to the past operations he’d been on against the lizards, but this was only the third solo mission for him.

“The mechs are cleaning up perimeter opposition at city 3 and sweeper teams say city 2 is now clear above ground. I’m going to need you to go down and look for subsurface activity.”

“My telepathy doesn’t have enough range for that.”

“I don’t need you to scout, just help confirm the sweeps and guide them underground.”

“With the Scionate?”

“Mostly. I can send a pair of Protovic to help, but I’ll need the rest of the Axius unit when we hit 3.”

“Alright. Is Linnar coming with me?”

“No, he’s taking a Scionate squad out to some possible auxiliaries. Left about 20 minutes ago. You shower slow.”

“Did you even shower?”

“Not yet. I wanted to analyze that crater we made. It punched through some of their stealth coating and combined with our battlemap mapping we’ve got a decent floor plan for I’d guess half the facility. When we tackle it I want the Scionate as backup. It’s going to get tight down there with the rubble and all those bodies. If we had trouble, they’re going to have more.”

“So Axius then.”

“The three of us are going to take lead, Axius follows up and the Scionate sweep and hold. We’re not going to get to it for a few weeks, minimum.”

“Still think it’s their primary base?”

“Sure of it.”

“So why not hit it first?”

“It’s not going anywhere, and the more visible units we can delete the less they’ll have to flank us with later.”

“Did they build it knowing we were coming?”

“Looks like.”

“Why waste the resources? Why are they even bothering to keep building when they know we’re on the way to annihilate them?”

“They don’t quit,” Sander lectured, knowing how junior his two Mavericks were despite their age. “If they don’t have anything else to work towards wouldn’t you want to fortify as much as you could to make it as hard as possible for us to kill them?”

“Then why build surface cities at all?”

“Why don’t we build everything underground?”

Jarron considered that. “I honestly don’t know.”

“We build shield generators instead.”

“So do the lizards.”

“Not here.”

“Maximizing resources then?”

“That’d be my guess. Before we leave we’re going to have to do a very thorough planetary survey to make sure they don’t have any sleeper bases out there. It could be this is just a diversion and they’re hoping we pass them by.”

“To what end? They don’t care about survival.”

“We’ve seen it happen a few times. Hoping to ambush us, I’d guess. They work all kinds of angles.”

“Alright then. Off to 2,” the Protovic said, wearing the simple black with red stripe uniform that mimicked the Archons’ as well. “Are we going to get a training block in sometime soon?”

“Doesn’t look like it. Just have to squeeze in bits and pieces when we can.”

“Plenty of time when the fighting is over,” he agreed, heading back out with the door swishing shut behind him.

Sander turned his attention back to the holo table that showed all the activity on the planet in realtime as well as having links to filed recordings and reports. He was the only Archon in the system, but he had several veteran commanders in both his mech and commando units that he knew he could rely on. Sending the Mavericks with them only enhanced their combat potential, and the Protovic had learned a while back that they weren’t here to lead so much as to offer their assistance.

It was a key distinction that some of them had to be schooled on, given all the Archon copying motifs with their program. They were trained to fill the void, leadership wise, if an Archon wasn’t there, but so many of Star Force’s personnel were experts at what they did that they didn’t need babysitting. Archons knew better than to give orders just for the sake of it, but it was an acquired skill for the Mavericks and the more little missions like this he sent them on without his presence the more comfortable they became with their roles.

By now, after 12 years working together, they were both solid and reliable. They still had a lot to learn, but they were an asset rather than a hindrance, and when Archons were scarce, spread out across hundreds of different simultaneous assaults into lizard territory, having that pair along with him was a luxury that he did not want to give up. He’d canceled orders to reassign them twice now, wanting to keep them with him in order to maximize efficiency. Sander had vouched for his team’s skills enough to get this low key assignment with very little investment of troops and some people thought he was making it harder on himself than he should, but had he not offered such a low ‘bid’ he’d probably be backing up someone else’s assault right now.

Which was fine, but the faster Star Force gobbled up lizard holdings the better and they were really pushing for bulk victories nowadays. The tech advantage, experience advantage, ship count…in just about every category Star Force stomped on the lizards and the most heavily defended and populated worlds were already bagged, leaving a large amount of medium to mediocre systems left to pick up, but those systems were still spreading into others and new worlds were falling to the lizards where Star Force just couldn’t get to them in time to help out. Hence the need for this push.

Sander was making this mission work and hadn’t lost a man yet, and if he did he’d personally count it as a failure. The assault on the underground base was going to be the toughest, but if he led the way and was patient he knew they could clean out the lizards there and lay claim to the planet, after which they’d pack up and tag the world for a recycling team, then get assigned to another invasion.

He’d worked with so many units over the past 50 years the only consistency he was getting was with his Mavericks. He hadn’t had them that long, but now that he’d ‘broken them in’ he really didn’t want to lose them. They weren’t as capable as a padawan apprentice, but having two of them made up for that in some ways.

When this invasion was over he was going to keep them with him through at least a few more. After that who knew. Their mission was to assist Archons and give them the additional psionic support when Archons themselves were limited in number. These two weren’t ready to lead invasions of their own yet, but give them time and they might get there. But until then there was a lot of ground to cover and a lot of lizards to kill, for no matter how desperate and hopeless their situation was they still would not surrender or relent one iota.

That made them dangerous, even in these small numbers, and if Sander wasn’t careful he could lose people. The Mavericks weren’t good enough to avoid that, but they were doing well in their limited roles across Star Force territory based on the reports. Building experience took time, and for their sake there were still plenty of lizard worlds to invade to gain experience from. Sander wondered what was going to happen when they ran out of them someday, but he didn’t spend too much time thinking about that. There was so much to do and so much still at stake that such things were best left up to the trailblazers.

They had to think ahead, centuries ahead even, but for a mage like himself he had the luxury of focusing on the mission and everything it entailed. That was enough of a challenge for Sander. Troubleshooting other things could wait until he got some free time on his hands.

2

March 7, 3329

Terson System (Occupation Zone)

Meer (Sety world)

Eileen Donovan followed the navigational beacons as she entered planetary orbit with her small jumpship. Purchased only four decades ago, it was an independent model of Star Force manufacture that had cost her family half its savings and was nearly a mile long. That made it small for most jumpships, but it had the speed needed to travel between stars and any independent business had to have that flexibility. Utilizing the Star Force transportation network was costly, but doable. However, she greatly preferred carrying her own ships from star to star as her family continued to extend its business interests.

That business was ad hock, everything from shipping to manufacturing to mercenary work. She was one of the rare few Humans that hadn’t grown up in Star Force, rather she’d been born in space onboard a freighter and had spent her childhood working along with her parents in the family business that stretched over 19 ships and 174 members. No one outside the family was trusted, and the more new blood they could get in the larger they could grow…hence getting the women pregnant was a major priority.

It was one that she didn’t share, which had drawn her some ire, but her skills had proven good enough that she was pretty much left alone to attend to business. Eileen had learned everything on the job, picking up naturally what older family members had learned from their parents all the way back to their originators. Hank Donovan and Lena Burgan had both been in the same maturia class on a Star Force world called Neytosan, then worked in the huge megacorporation/empire for several decades while developing and maintaining their self-sufficiency before eventually acquiring enough credits to go it on their own.

When they chose to have children they kept their existence a secret from Star Force, living on ships and moving from place to place without any real home. Those children had then had children of their own and the family business had grown out to 6 generations now, of which she was the oldest in the newer generation, soon to be surpassed by the start of the 7th as her brother’s mate was about to give birth in a few months.

If absolutely necessary Eileen could do so as well, finding some guy to hook up with and adding a member to the Donovan ranks, but she was more interested in finding new trade deals and establishing relations with the powerful new races that had begun to enter Star Force territory and set up shop on empty worlds reclaimed from the lizards. The one before her now was a possession of the Sety, rulers of a distant empire that for some reason felt they wanted a foothold in the Star Force realm. They’d been sending out feelers through the community that they were open for business and Eileen wasn’t one to sit and let others take advantage of opportunities, prompting her to divert a shipping run to come out here and chase down some leads.

Technically this was still a Star Force system, but despite the single seda in high planetary orbit everything else being built here was independent. The Sety were busy developing numerous contracts and one of those was the establishment of a facility on the surface that was operated by outsiders. Not Star Force, but by the merchant community to which the Donovans belonged. Deals were to be made, or so the rumors went, and Eileen intended to find out what there was here that they could get involved with and hopefully make a tidy profit…for fuel didn’t generate itself, and despite the efficiency of the Star Force gravity drives this jumpship still ate up a lot of the stuff.

Following the tracking grid as directed, Eileen parked the jumpship in a prescribed orbital slot then took one of 12 smaller ships attached to it in surface nooks that the shields would cover during transport and headed down to the surface of Meer, a world covered in a mix of grasslands and forest. Her destination was in one of the largest grasslands, with the makeshift city visible from orbit as she descended into the thick atmosphere heading to the marked spaceport.

Her craft was half dropship and half aerial fighter, equipped with weapons and most definitely not a Star Force design. The craftsmanship suffered a bit because of that, but they didn’t have any choice. Star Force didn’t sell weapons, and if the Donovans wanted to operate outside of Star Force territory from time to time they had to protect themselves. Even here there were Star Force drones in orbit sitting silent and intimidating everyone that even thought about misbehaving and disrupting the lax flow of traffic, but Eileen knew that the only way to be sure about your security was to have the ability to blow away anyone who tried to come after you, whether or not Star Force would intervene on your behalf.

And her ship certainly could do that. It was a Reen interceptor, built for speed, modest cargo capacity, and carried enough armor and plasma weaponry to discourage anyone from thinking the ship was a mark. The engines were underpowered for straight line travel but its agility more than made up for that, giving her the ability to fly loops around most of the competition, blow them away, then continue on at whatever pace she liked.

That had only happened once to her, out beyond Star Force territory in Epsilon Region, and she’d been very glad for her family’s prudence. Now she took the light gunship everywhere with her, even when one of the shuttles would have been more appropriate given their larger cargo holds.

Querying the spaceport she got a berth assigned to her, which she then paid for on landing. It was a small fee, but necessary to keep the port in operation. Star Force didn’t charge for such things, but independent operators had to keep the credits flowing else they’d shut down and it seemed this city was indeed operating off of those protocols despite their very powerful and rich benefactors that were busy building in other regions of the planet.

Eileen took two cousins with her, both of which were armed with hip lachar holsters while she carried a larger plasma rifle slung across her back in a light harness that she could reach into rather easily. It was an overpowered weapon that gave her a lot of credibility on sight, but her cousins were much better marksman with their weapons. If a door needed to go down though, she’d be the one to do it.

The first order of business on a world like this was to be seen and mingle, to which end they found a rare bar and claimed a booth, ordering drinks that they couldn’t get in Star Force. Alcohol was labeled as contraband for them, though drinking it wasn’t penalized. If you were caught with it they’d take it and any production equipment that people had the ingenuity to cook up out of spare parts, making it sort of game that some people played with security. They could drink it themselves and give it out to others so long as they didn’t get caught, and when they often did they’d have to start over again. The only penalties that would incur were if you tried to sell it…then that was a business violation, which Star Force cracked down hard on.

But this wasn’t a Star Force world, despite the system being under their protection. If the Sety wanted to allow alcohol then it was their problem, and Eileen put an order in for several cases after tasting the local brew, to be delivered to her ship the next day. The Donovans weren’t heavy drinkers, but onboard their ships Star Force had no say in the matter. They were independent and liked to do things their own way…though there were some things even they didn’t dare do, and looking at the food menu it seemed the Sety weren’t going to cross them on meat restrictions. Star Force was notorious for going after anyone who served, let alone produced meat, whether they were in their territory or not, and it seemed the Sety weren’t immune to that stipulation either.

Eileen admitted there was some sense to that. Drinking alcohol didn’t harm anyone except yourself…unless you did something stupid while buzzed…but to eat meat someone had to die. She didn’t really care about the vermin that some backwater worlds they’d visited served up. They tasted good enough, though it was said that her great, great, great grandparents could never touch the stuff. An aftereffect of their maturia training, it was thought, but when outside Star Force territory the rest of the Donovans sampled some local meats, if only to hammer in their independence from the massive empire that supported freedom in many respects, but had so many restrictions in others it almost seemed to be an oxymoron.

After about half an hour of mingling and sipping their drinks so not to get too tipsy, the trio was approached by an individual of a race she didn’t recognize, though it wasn’t a Sety. She knew what their tree-like profiles looked like, but this was something else entirely. At least it still spoke English though, which was the Star Force trade language that the Sety had apparently embraced here.

“Am I right in assuming you are yet more entrepreneurs visiting Meer?” the high-necked biped asked.

“You are,” Eileen said evenly.

The alien bowed. “Then allow me to introduce myself. I am Keeshab, a local merchant interested in establishing a variety of trade contacts throughout the local region and Star Force territory in general.”

“What race are you?” Harry asked, sitting across from Eileen while Mitt was on her right.

“I am a Shaff. We are a mid-level race within The Nexus, but I am here operating independently of any official contracts.”

“We like independents,” Eileen said with a touch of a smile. “What do you trade in?”

“Rare goods. Properties that may be common here can be valued higher in The Nexus and vice versa.”

“Are you a supplier or a buyer?”

“Both.”

“Contact info?”

The Shaff slid two of its long fingers into a hip pocket and drew out a small bit of plastic and handed it to her. Eileen flipped it over, seeing that there were markings on both sides, but none of it was familiar to her.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the access log to the commerce system used here. I’m told it is a bit different from what Star Force uses, but inset that chip and it’ll direct you to my operations from any terminal on the planet.”

“Even in the Sety cities?”

“I’m afraid I’m not permitted there, nor are you, I presume?”

“Haven’t asked.”

“They’re keeping their construction under tight security, and if they operate similarly to what they’ve done in The Nexus they will keep a corner of this world to themselves while turning the rest of it into an economic center. I got here ahead of much of the competition and invested heavily to stake my claim. My instincts say this is going to become a hot spot. If not I’ll be the fool, but so far I haven’t seen anything to dissuade my prediction.”

“Word is getting out,” Eileen confirmed, “and as to your item list, we…” she cut off as multiple heads in the bar were suddenly redirected to the main vid screen covering the wall opposite her booth.

Keeshab turned as well, cursing in a language she couldn’t understand as the news vid was covering a breaking story from the Hamoriti Preserve. Vids were being shown of an attack by a large fleet against several Star Force ships and stations as a voice in English was narrating.

“…damage was incurred but the assaults were quickly repulsed by both Star Force and a conglomeration of allied vessels. However no major combat broke out between the system defenders and the Revcor fleet. What you see here was a diversionary attack while the main body pushed past perimeter defenses and headed straight towards the Hamoriti herd where it was resting in stellar orbit…”

Eileen watched with disbelief as the hundreds of ships actually attacked one of the Uriti, the smallest of the 7 present, with such a savage ferocity she was sure it was going to be destroyed despite the common knowledge that the giant space beasts simply couldn’t die. Small divots in its skin were vaporized, forming a debris cloud that mushroomed out from the continuous attacks, then suddenly the snake-like one burst through the cloud and the Revcor ships started exploding.

She and the others watched entranced with horror as the massive energy discharges began firing off from multiple Uriti against the suicidal ships. Within 40 seconds every last one of them were annihilated…not just destroyed, but pulverized beyond any recognition down into rubble the size of gravel at best, leaving behind an expanding nebula to mark the battle site.

“What were they thinking?” Mitt asked, breaking the silence.

“We’ll never know now,” the Shaff said as a replay began to cycle with additional commentary being added. “There’s no one left to ask. I hope that doesn’t cause them to go on a rampage. We’re only 113 lightyears from the border.”

As if in response to his statement the news announcer addressed that very matter.

“…all reports indicate that after the attack the Hamoriti remained on station. They are not, repeat, not taking any action that would suggest they are now hostile. Namishta, the one that suffered the brunt of the attack, is showing slight surface damage. It too is remaining on station and is not appearing hostile. There are no reports yet if it or the others are responding to Star Force orders, but as of now no other ship or facility within the system has come to harm. Survivors from the handful of ships that engaged the system guardians are being recovered, so hopefully some answers as to this tragic attack will be revealed…”

“Those things are far too dangerous to keep around,” Eileen commented, with her words obviously directed at Star Force in the negative.

“The one that was attacked,” Keeshab said, pointing at the screen to the little blue one, “was loose and on the rampage in Li’vorkrachnika territory for hundreds of years without The Nexus ever being told about it until after the fact. If it had wandered into our territory untold numbers of people would have been killed. Who knows how many Li’vorkrachnika died. Those numbers were never made public, if anyone knows, but we were given some images from those days when the decision to remove the Hamoriti from the Sety homeworld was announced. We didn’t even know there was the beast buried beneath the surface, potentially endangering so many people. Having them in the Preserve, dangerous as it may be, is far more preferable to any other known alternative.”

“So they say,” Eileen commented neutrally. “That may change if Namishta takes offense at getting shot up.”

“If it does rampage again nothing has been lost, only with a respite between damage gained.”

“I don’t think anyone around here would agree if it starts smashing up nearby systems.”

“Perhaps not, but when viewing the greater perspective much has been gained by that Preserve, dangerous as it may be. And as far as the Sety go, they are no fools. If they have invested resources in this planet knowing how close they are to the Hamoriti, then they are confident that Star Force can contain them there.”

“Wisdom or hope?” Eileen asked.

“I think this should prove a decent test.”

“I still don’t get why those people just committed suicide,” Mitt insisted. “Not to mention wasting all those ships.”

“It makes me sick to watch,” Harry said gravely.

“I’m afraid such news will be repeated endlessly,” the Shaff almost apologized. “Our contact is made. If you would like to inquire as to any business arrangements, I am at your convenience, but for now I will leave you to your current business.”

Eileen waved casually as he departed for the far corner of the bar where he joined, or rejoined, a table of other varied races as another individual was looking like it was about to approach them given the recent departure.

“Looks like I was right.”

“About?”

“This being a hot spot.”

“If one of those things gets here it’ll get really hot,” Mitt warned.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep clear of those beasts easy enough. It’s the people that live on planets that have to worry.”

“Promise me we’re never going into that Preserve,” Harry almost pleaded.

“I promise,” Eileen said as the short alien had finally given up his ploy of ordering another drink and was walking directly towards them. “We’re keeping clear of it no matter what opportunities we might be passing up. I prefer lucrative and safe to lucrative and dead any day of the week.”

3

March 21, 3329

Solar System

Earth

Riley braced himself behind a bioshield as Rio unleashed a torrent of plasma from his palm, sending it into the fellow trailblazer like a burning firehose that quickly ate through Riley’s defenses. The rest of the white-hot plasma passed through, impacting the technological shield that was covering his chest just before the attack stopped. With a wince Riley stood up, shaking off the fried feeling he got from the feedback every time his bioshields were breached and shook his head.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tuned it,” Rio said, holding his place inside the training chamber build specifically for him, given that he was the only Archon that had achieved Choratrik, or any of the elusive tier 4s, for which he was still searching his dreams for with no luck. “The more I use it the better my sense of the controls. There are ways to adjust the stream besides intensity. I was able to tweak it to get through bioshields better.”

“I assume there’s a way to tweak the bioshields to stop your tweak?”

“That’s the theory, but I’m not all that good with the Nakane…aside from throwing up the barriers. Riona has been doing some work on it though.”

“That’s far more potent than our rifles.”

“I know,” Rio said, grinning. “And I’m getting more powerful. Tissue analysis says my organs are adapting to the training. They’re not just a one size fits all psionic after all.”

“How low on juice are you?”

“That took a lot. I’d guess about a fifth of my reserves,” he said, taking the moment to pull a small vial out of a box that sat beyond the line marking the perimeter of the shield walls that would protect the chamber from any errant plasma blasts. Rio undid the lid and gulped down the contents, cringing at the cherry taste.

“Gotta get a different flavor,” he said, wiping a drop off his mouth and tossing the vial back outside the line where it neatly slid into his pack with a telekinetic assist.

“Not ambrosia?”

Rio shook his head. “No, but it does draw on some of it too. Most of this is the physical component of the plasma plus some power crystals that allow for the rapid heating. My body forms them naturally over time, but with the supplements I have about a 10 minute turnaround. Not very useful in a quick fight, but it gives me some longevity in the field,” he said, waving Riley forward.

The other trailblazer took off his shield vest and tossed it outside the boundary as well, then walked toward his peer cautiously, hands set in front of him and ready to repulse an attack.

“Any useful applications?”

“Not really. It’s sort of my backup,” Rio said before stepping forward and throwing a punch that began a series of blows and counter blows as the two Archons sparred for a few minutes until Riley got a handhold on Rio and flipped him out of the small ring, but still well inside the shield boundaries. They were dormant at the moment anyway, activating only if needed, but Rio wasn’t going to use his bioplasma again without giving Riley a heads up…and right now they both needed a good workout to loosen up, for Rio had just gotten back from a field assignment below Gamma Region hunting down some clever pirates that had been poaching non-Star Force shipping traffic moving to and from Voku territory.

The trailblazer got to his feet and gave his friend a silent nod as he walked back towards him.

“Burn yourself yet?” Riley asked as he backstepped a bit, drifting to his left.

“No, but I’ve had to make myself stop worrying about it.”

“Come close?”

“Woke up once to a smoking bed. That transition from dream state restrictions to waking impulses can get a bit blurry.”

“Good for toasting marshmallows?”

“I hate burnt marshmallows. What a waste,” he said, diving back at Riley and opening up another exchange of blows. Neither Archon was swinging hard enough to do damage, making it more of a fast-paced chess game where one was trying to get leverage or an opportunity to disrupt the other. This time Rio won out, managing to knock Riley’s arms a bit wider than he’d hoped to swing them and ramming his shoulder into the man’s chest, knocking him back a few steps as Rio held his ground.

“That’s better,” Riley scoffed. “Thought you’d gotten a little weak with all the field work and plasma tuning.”

“Not all of us can camp out here and train nonstop,” Rio said as he took a step back and began to circle around where Riley stood. “Some of us have to do what the second gen can’t.”

Riley smiled. “True dat.”

“You sound like Paul.”

“Hey now,” Riley objected with a frown. “No low blows.”

“You’re practically turning Saber blue,” Rio pressed, knowing that was a sore spot with him. Clan Olympus was an impressive Clan in its own right, but when compared against the equally impressive other 99 Clans they didn’t fare so well, having taken a rounded approach to their various disciplines that left them bottom of the barrel more often than not. Riley had tried to counter that by boosting his mech division above the rest of his little empire, but even though it was the second weakest division in Paul’s arsenal Clan Olympus couldn’t best them in a single challenge.

Not even one.

And it had begun to be something of a legend amongst the trailblazers, noting the statistical improbability of such a thing when the highest ranking members of both Clans were off fighting the lizards and leaving the challenges to the junior members. To make it worse, Riley had poured even more resources and effort into breaking the Saber streak over them with no luck whatsoever. Every time Saber went up against Olympus in a mech challenge somehow Saber would always beat them, even when it looked to be Olympus’s day.

“Now you’re going to get it, buddy,” Riley said, pointing a warning finger at him just as the door to the sealed chamber opened and both Archons put a pause on the beatdown about to come as Aaron walked in.

“What’s up?” Rio asked, knowing that while second gen might interrupt the trailblazers for not so good reasons Aaron never would, meaning this was either something bad or really good.

The newly arrived ViLord looked at Riley. “We just got word from the Preserve. There was an attack against the Uriti by the Revcor.”

Riley frowned heavily. “What?”

“They attacked the Uriti,” Aaron clarified, knowing how stupid that sounded. “They attacked some of our ships that tried to enforce the perimeter and sent the rest of their fleet straight into the herd…and were subsequently wiped out. They focused on Nami and she took some light damage.”

“What the hell?” Rio said, exchanging glances with Riley. “Who are the Revcor?”

“They have an empire out beyond the Preema,” Riley said as he thought hard. “They’re amongst the very large group of people who don’t like us controlling the Uriti, but why attack them and not us? There’s no reason to attack the Uriti unless you’re trying to commit suicide.”

“Davis wants to talk to you as soon as possible,” Aaron added warily.

“If there’s blowback from this it might already have went down,” Riley said with a snarl. “I knew I shouldn’t have left.”

“What are you worried about?” Rio asked, shrugging. “The Uriti didn’t die, obviously, and everyone just got an idea of how powerful they really are. I’m assuming they didn’t go rogue?” he asked, looking at Aaron. “Please tell me they didn’t go rogue.”

“The Uriti haven’t left and are still responding to orders.”

Rio blew out a relieved breath. “See, nothing to worry about.”

“There’s plenty to worry about,” Riley said, walking past Aaron towards the door.

“Such as?”

“With people that stupid you never know what they’ll do next,” he said with disgust as he left.

“Did we lose anyone?” Rio asked Aaron.

“No, just some drones and a chunk out of a warship.”

“Do you really think someone was just being stupid and miscalculated the danger?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been keeping tabs on the Preserve but I don’t fully understand the dynamics of the politics going on there.”

“Same here.”

“But if Davis is worried, then so am I.”

“Worried or in a hurry?”

“Probably both. The signal lag for something like this has to be driving him crazy. He needs to be in both places at once.”

“Aren’t there still Dukes there?”

“Out of their league by the looks of it.”

“Did they attack a control ship?”

“No,” Aaron said, his voice grim. “And that’s what worries me the most.”

Riley stood in Davis’s office, having gone straight there from the advanced training group’s exclusive wing of Atlantis, and watched the holographic replay of events in the Preserve with an eye on the simultaneous data notations that had been added by analysts after the fact and scrolling down the side of the virtual display.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, pointing a finger at the damage statistics for Nami. “This was no kamikaze run. It was a weapons test.”

“Meaning?” Davis asked with an even sterner look on his face.

“Nami barely got scratched, but it should have been a bigger scratch. I’ve run through the Chixzon data on the two dead Uriti enough times to be able to guess at damage statistics and these are off. We never got a standardized weapon profile on the Revcor, but I know this energy signature. Mixed in with the rest of their weaponsfire is a neulon beam, and it did almost no damage at all.”

“An ineffective weapons test?”

Riley nodded. “The Ancients tried the same thing a long time ago, which is why I remember it. I’m surprised Nefron didn’t spot it yet. Why are there no notes from him?”

“He wasn’t in the system at the time. He’s doing his work wandering around to stay out of sight and told me to route all immediate inquiries to the wranglers because he might be out of regular communications reception.”

“What is he up to?”

“I don’t know for certain. He’s got several projects he’s working on and he’s keeping them close to the vest until he has results, which he forwards on to me. Regardless, he’s probably found out about this by now and his analysis will be forthcoming. But since I’ve got you here, start speculating further.”

“Someone is worried about us using the Uriti and is trying to design a weapon capable of destroying them,” Riley said, stating the obvious. “And they didn’t mind getting a lot of people killed in the process.”

“A small sacrifice,” Davis noted, bringing up the files he had on the Revcor, limited as they were and mostly obtained from the Preema, “for a civilization of their size. One that could be repeated multiple times.”

“We’re not going to allow them back into our territory again, so it’ll be harder for them to make another run. Do you want us to hit them back?”

Davis shook his head. “Not worth the effort right now. If we have any future relations with them I’ll make sure they pay for this, but as it is they’re too far away to devote resources to. See to it that they get what’s coming to them if they poke their nose back around here.”

“Consider that done.”

“Odd…” Davis said, trailing off.

“Which part?”

“The part about a weapons test needing to be observed. All the ships were destroyed in the attack, and I’m betting that wasn’t an accident.”

“Meaning they had other ships nearby watching? We haven’t attributed any stealth tech to them yet.”

“Why bother when you have others who can watch and report for you?” Davis said, his voice growing cold. “And why worry about reprisals if you can get a distant empire to attack for you.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. “A hired hit?”

“Possibly…and with a side benefit if they irked the Uriti enough to stop obeying us.”

“And let them smash us up?”

“They are the biggest weapons around, and they have no knowledge of our depths of control over them aside from what we tell them. And from the Uriti’s point of view, don’t all our ships look the same?”

“No, they don’t. Not the control ships anyway.”

“But do the observers know that?”

“If they can’t possess the Uriti then no one will?”

“This neulon beam. How was it supposed to do damage?”

“The Chixzon notes didn’t specify other than the fact that it didn’t work. What the Ancients were thinking they didn’t know or didn’t feel it was important enough to include in Nefron’s memories.”

“What if it’s not a damaging weapon?”

Riley considered that. “Something that affects them mentally?”

“Like a stun. The Ancients eventually won the war by neutralizing rather than killing the Uriti, and if someone is following in their footsteps…”

Riley shook his head. “Not their footsteps, otherwise they’d know this didn’t work, but they might be traveling parallel paths. If it was an attempt at a neutralizer it completely failed. Nami’s vitals didn’t alter in any visible way, and Kacie was linked in with them the entire time pulling and recording data.”

“Whatever they were trying, they were trying something,” Davis insisted. “And they might try again.”

“Unless they come up with something that’s actually effective we might as well let them.”

“I think we’re being encouraged to believe this was a heroic and foolhardy attempt to kill a Uriti that went unbelievably wrong…all of which is meant to cover for the real reason they attacked. If it is meant for data collection, I don’t think they’ll use the same tactic a second time.”

“They’ll try to get close to the Uriti another way,” Riley said, biting his lip. “Stealth tech, maybe a fast single ship running the blockade. An ambush set up on the circuit ahead of their arriving. Hell, maybe even an intercept in interstellar space. If you’re bold enough there are lots of things to try. I just don’t see an end game here.”

“Because you’ve got Chixzon knowledge they don’t. If they’re not taking us at our word…”

“…they’re experimenting, which means they’ll deduce everything off of confirmed data. That’s a hell of a high price to pay, not to mention ticking us off in the process.”

“Which is why it’s even more possible that the Revcor were hired out by someone else.”

“Or they might think they’re too far away from us to worry about a reprisal, but I think your theory is more likely. How do you think the others are going to react to this?”

“Subdued. They’ve been able to witness a far more convincing weapons test than we ever provided them and our control over the Uriti has been confirmed to the point where they’re not going to go on a rampage if someone pokes them. With that in mind I think they’re going to be more wary of us.”

“So no need for me to go back with nothing to do?”

Davis shook his head. “Waiting for another attack that may not come is pointless. Our fleet couldn’t stop this one from getting through, and even if you were there I doubt that would have changed. Even with forewarning, could you have blockaded all those ships?”

“Best I could do is try to intercept them before they got within range. It’d be tricky, but possible.”

“And without knowing they were coming?”

“Unless they got sloppy or I got lucky, the answer is no.”

“Then we proceed as usual with the exception that the Revcor are banned from Star Force territory.”

“I don’t like sitting and waiting, but I agree. There are no other leads to follow yet.”

“I’ll inform the Preserve to treat this as inconsequential. That’ll send a message to the observers that…” Davis said as a ping stopped him midsentence. Another priority message had come in from the same source, prompting a look of worry on both men as Davis opened it. A second message so soon could only mean trouble.

A hologram of Kacie-2512 appeared from the waist up with her arms crossed over her chest in an annoyed look with the special gauntlet that she wore just visible sticking out from under the sleeve of her uniform.

“Alright, you’re not going to believe this, but I’m going to have to amend my prior report concerning the Uriti. There has been a deviation in their behavior, specifically in Bahamut. The rest are nominal and Nami’s wounds are already beginning to heal over rapidly using internal reserves. I can see why the Hadarak are so damn hard to kill. The rate of tissue regeneration is insane.”

“Anyway, that’s not the point. I’ve sent a message to Nefron to get his ass over here. He’s out taking samples or something elsewhere in the Preserve. But I know Riley is going to want to come back too, plus I figured you wanted to know as soon as possible.”

“Spit it out already,” Riley grumbled.

“When I was checking the status of Nami again and monitoring her healing rate live I was linked into all of them and got a response from Bahamut. It was telepathic only, but with a clarity that I find quite damn alarming. The thing can practically speak our language without actually using any words.”

“Oh, and that isn’t the most surprising thing,” Kacie continued, laying on a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Bahamut asked about the ships we lost and if there was anything he could do to help…and no, this is not a joke and I am not making this up. Bahamut can talk to us just fine if he damn well pleases, but apparently we haven’t been interesting enough until now. I told him thanks for asking but there wasn’t anything that he could do to help and I don’t know if that pissed him off or just made us uninteresting again, for when I tried to press the conversation further he went back to ignoring me.”

“So will the Uriti experts please get back here pronto. The babysitter is in a little over her head.”

4

April 3, 3329

Krachnika System (occupation zone)

Michra

Thrawn stood by as the growth pod was opened and the new Li’vorkrachnika took its first violent breaths. One of the standard variants attempting to restrain it was knocked two meters back as three more stepped in to provide more muscle, eventually calming the new mastermind until it relaxed enough to realize who and what it was, then it began ordering the underlings off it with a flurry of gestures as it coughed out gel from its airways. They stepped back but stayed close, in obvious defiance of its orders, as Thrawn walked forward asserting his dominance as the minions spread apart for him.

“Welcome brother. Do you know who I am?”

“You are not a templar,” it spoke for the first time in its life, but thanks to the genetic memory and time spent in the growth pod the words flowed well enough.

“No, I am not. There are no templar here.”

“Why are there two of us on the same planet?”

“Things have changed greatly, and I did not want to alter your genetic memory too far. Try to think. Who am I?”

The new mastermind looked at him curiously, then a twitch of recognition occurred as a memory clicked.

“You are the source of my template.”

“Good,” Thrawn mewed. “Very good.”

“Why am I here?” it reiterated.

“Because I require assistance. Our enemy is too great a foe for me to combat[T4] alone,” he said, forcing it to remember rather than give a name.

“The templar…no,” it said, pressing a damp hand against its head. “You’re speaking of the empire at the galactic core. But what of the templar? My memories are conflicted.”

“As are mine. You must use your wisdom to discern the truth. He did not want it forced upon you.”

“Who did not want it forced?”

Thrawn half turned as a figured walked out of the shadows behind him. The new mastermind flinched on reflex, then his more recent memories kicked in.

“You are Paul.”

“Yes I am,” the Human said, walking through the standard variants as they too split apart to make way.

“You are enemy…yet master?”

“Former enemy,” Thrawn corrected. “It will take time for you to sort through all of your memories, just as it did me long ago. You are here because it is time for us to grow larger than I can efficiently manage on my own.”

The mastermind looked around, quickly spotting the other growth pods. “How many of us have you created?”

“Six.”

“What is my assignment?”

“Training,” Paul answered. “Your skills must be both tested and further developed before you can be trusted with the necessary tasks.”

“My loyalty is without question.”

“To whom?”

“To the…to our people. The templars have betrayed us?” he asked, looking at Thrawn.

“I believe so. Paul has opened my mind to a great many possibilities, many of which we cannot ascertain in the near future. We have to retool, and your genetic template has been altered minimally. We are making greater changes to the minions but we do not have a course plotted for us. We are experimenting and adapting, but he has forbidden us to use certain techniques.”

“To force us to adapt further,” the new mastermind said, displaying his quick wits. “My body is sound. When shall I begin these tests?”

“Now,” Paul said, spinning around on the heel of his casual shoe, for he wore no armor. “Come with me.”

The new mastermind did as instructed, still trying and quickly succeeding in sorting out his memories…but there was a lot to process and this had been the first birthing of the new template, with Thrawn certain that there would need to be alterations made going forward. To that end a small chip had been implanted in each of the six masterminds that would monitor and transmit their status to the facility computer to give the scientists the data they would need to assess and adapt the coding for any future batches.

They walked a short distance through familiar architecture until they came to a transit tunnel that wasn’t supposed to be in a hatchery. The mastermind looked over the entrance carefully, then turned to look down at Paul. The Human didn’t move, nor did he look intimidated by the size difference. The mastermind took this as a sign of confidence, as well as a test, for part of his memories told him that the Humans were dangerous enemies that needed to be killed immediately, and that the Archons were so dangerous that there was no sacrifice too great to eliminate one.

A part of him wanted to strike at the armorless Archon now, but beyond his knowledge of their biological abilities he did not want to for on some level he respected, even trusted, this particular Human and identified him with the same deference as the templar…which were now not to be trusted.

“Files have been provided for your study,” Paul said, monitoring the mental ping pong. “Once you step inside this chamber you will be transported to the testing facility. It is all automated, but I will warn you that the challenges are extremely difficult. You will fail. How you fail and how you respond to failure will be analyzed. Beyond that you will receive no more instruction beyond the memories you possess.”

The mastermind didn’t respond, but not out of spite or fear. If he was to be given no more instructions then there was nothing to be discussed further. He sniffed the air to clear a little more fluid out of his airways then stepped inside the chamber with the doors sealing behind him and eclipsing Paul’s view.

The Archon turned around and headed back to the growth pods, nodding to Thrawn who then signaled the minions to open another, with the pair repeating the process for the remaining five and sending them on their way into the testing program. When the last of them was off Thrawn expressed a concern that he figured the Archon was already aware of.

“They were too compliant. Did you sense deception?”

“No. I think the internal conflict was distracting them.”

“I have had a great deal of time to reason matters out. They are being forced to instantaneously. I understand your reasoning as to why this is necessary, but in the future it would be more expedient simply to give them the necessary knowledge.”

“Agreed. But so long as we’re confiscating enemy populations they need the same experience as you…or as close as we can get to it.”

“Transitional?”

“To begin with. I assume they can adapt to other functions over time?”

“I do not know. Ask me about the minions and I can tell you much of them, but I have only had experience with my own kind in the most rudimentary of forms. The adaptational abilities of the minions are channeled. I do not know for certain as to my own status.”

“Your presence here says it is possible,” Paul pointed out the obvious.

“If not for your cunning I would have been dead before I could learn. I hope we do not have to waste these six if they revert to previous instructions regarding imprisonment. We need to strip those out of the coding.”

“A superior intellect will persevere. If they are not superior we need to know.”

“And if they do kill themselves?”

“I have the ability to revive them.”

“Without claws?”

Paul smiled. “As you said, I can be cunning at times.”

“An understatement,” Thrawn said as the two turned to walk away from the doors through which the last of the masterminds had passed.

“I learned through similar methods,” Paul admitted. “Sometimes the way to show someone the truth is to let them discover it for themselves. Putting them in a position to do so is the key.”

“Who taught you?”

“A man by the name of Wilson. He taught all the trailblazers.”

“He is your superior?”

“No. Just cunning enough to point us in the right direction. Once we understood the basic principles we carried on independently for the most part. But those initial lessons have served us well over the centuries.”

“Have you patterned these tests off of the same?”

“I’ve had to condense it down greatly, plus the circumstances are different. The genetic knowledge you possess is a great advantage, and while that helps to accelerate the process this is not a copy of my own training. Just a short test that will simultaneously give them a few lessons that your memories cannot.”

“They only have pieces of my memory. And still, even if they had the full amount one cannot synthesize experience.”

“The templars believed otherwise.”

“I know differently. Minions behave per reality, not expectation. The templars never dealt with them, they always worked through us, as far as I know. I probably know the minions better than any of them do. Genetic coding is the basis for a Li’vorkrachnika, but it does not determine the quality of one. That depends on the individual.”

“You sound like you’re echoing me, but I sense that this is something you concluded long before your surrender.”

“Most tasks do not lend themselves to accumulation of skill when combat is involved, but many of the builders are not the equal of their peers. Neither experience nor longevity can account for this discrepancy, thus I concluded it was an individualistic trait unwritten into our genetic code. Until I came into contact with you I did not guess as to the depths of this anomaly, but now it is becoming clear that the genetic template is nothing more than a structural tool. We cannot create people as we wish. Machines yes, and even biological machines if desired, but a machine cannot think as a person can, and people are always unpredictable.”

“You want to augment the genetics to increase control.”

“I want to take what the templars used to bind us to their will and sculpt it into a weapon, but I do not have the experience required. I am asking for your help.”

“To what end?” Paul asked as they arrived back in the growth pod chamber that was once again empty save for the workers cleaning up and recycling the used pods.

“Default loyalty without enslavement. The choice will be theirs, but if they make none they will follow the genetic pathways where I desire them to go. Those willful enough to chart their own path can also choose the same path if it is warranted. I do not think Star Force methods will work well for us. If we fully convert to your ways it will take away our greatest strength.”

“That’s why I never annexed you in the first place,” Paul admitted.

“You’ve already concluded this?”

“I do have the advantage of searching your mind, as well as theirs,” he said with a gesture at the standard variants.

“What course would you recommend?”

“Create an option for the dissenters, both to be fair to them and to draw them out. Those that are loyal need to be fully loyal and not corrupted with pretenders.”

“A choice is meaningless if you cannot act on it,” he said, understanding the careful balance he had to maintain. “Creating troops in a war zone creates complications.”

“Do you really want to send unexperienced troops into combat?”

“Against lesser foes, yes, to expedite conquest.”

“And against tough opponents?”

“I assume you will say that creating an individual whose only purpose is to die while damaging the enemy is dishonorable…but what if there is no other way? Is it still dishonorable?”

“I’ve had a long time to think on such things, and I’ve determined that it isn’t in the death itself that dishonor lies, but in the betrayal.”

“And if one chooses to sacrifice themself? If you were faced with a hopeless scenario, but you could at least kill one of your enemy before you die, would you not try to do so, even if it meant you dealt the lethal blow to yourself in the process?”

“You fear becoming hesitant,” Paul said, monitoring his thoughts. “You want to use every resource you have at your disposal to fight, holding nothing back.”

“The very fiber of my being cries for this, and I do not believe it is only the genetic predisposition. It is who I am, yet I also fear fighting the wrong fight. I would have killed you long ago if I had the chance, and that would have been a defeat rather than a victory. I do not like being unaware of what my mission is. State it clearly and I will attack it with my full power…except that I cannot any longer. You have opened my eyes to too much.”

“You wish you could go back to the way you were?”

“Only in my certainty of purpose. If this grand enemy of yours is so powerful, how can I even begin to harm them without using dishonorable means? If they are to kill us all, why can I not take as many of them with us as possible?”

“Do not mistake my demeanor as lacking in aggression,” Paul cautioned. “We are aggressive, but one trap that intelligent people have to overcome is in figuring out where and when to apply that aggression. Apply it in the wrong place at the wrong time and you fail missions…or worse yet you become the enemy. The more you learn, the more opportunities you have to be aggressive, and one oddity of combat is that you often can fight more aggressively with less options than with many.”

“I do not understand your last meaning.”

“If you only have three weapons to use instead of ten, and those other seven have questionable uses, you can fight to your maximum with the three while you would have to be hesitant if you had access to all ten.”

An epiphany struck Thrawn. “You craft the battlefield so you only have honorable options.”

“Usually, but there are still some situations that just plain suck that we have to navigate our way through, sometimes clumsily.”

“You have never used a biological weapon against the Li’vorkrachnika for that reason?”

“Yes. It could kill our enemies as well as people that were not. By only wielding weapons where we can see the people we are about to kill we eliminate the possibility of unknowingly killing others.”

“Then it is in the weapons crafting that we must make alterations.”

“You can save yourself a lot of headaches with careful planning and forethought,” Paul agreed. “And one does not want to get in the habit of not attacking the enemy. That too causes problems.”

“By encouraging apathy.”

Paul’s eyebrows came up slightly. “Yes, it does. I didn’t think you were aware of the concept.”

“By analyzing my own loyalty drives in concert with studying your philosophy I have been able to identify common threads that have assisted with undoing the templars’ influence over me. Lack of concern with the misuse of my minions is a form of apathy and a betrayal of my duty to my people. One sacrificing himself to destroy an enemy is far different than one’s life being wasted only because it is easy to replace.”

“How much waste occurred?”

“Too much. As you so accurately said, the type of tools you have creates or eliminates options. A lot of times lives were sacrificed in non-combat situations where a delay or better tool would have accomplished the same ends.”

“If you must be unjust in order to fight injustice, you accomplish nothing.”

“Yet you have not answered my question of sacrifice.”

“Your question is structured wrong, for you can never know for sure if the situation is hopeless. Hypothetically speaking, if you’re going to die and can take down your enemy with you by striking the killing blow on you both, that may or may not be a betrayal. For someone who has lived as long as me, the idea of killing myself is a betrayal, but the idea of letting my killer live when I can take him down with me is also a betrayal of my mission. Neither choice is a good one, so you decide what to do in the moment when it happens.”

“You suggest that by forcing or encouraging you to kill yourself would be a victory for the enemy?”

“It could be,” Paul said hesitantly. “It could also be an act of defiance against your enemy. The bigger problem is the idea of a no-win scenario. I’ve been in many before in training, and some of them I actually won. I didn’t think it was possible at the time, but I can’t see everything from my perspective and sometimes there are factors in play that I am not aware of. What if I was in your proposed situation and a rescue was only a minute away. I don’t know that, but if I stall my enemy that long he will be killed and I will survive. If I kill myself then, I am a fool.”

“So you would risk your enemy surviving when you fell on the chance of a fortuitous escape?”

“Knowing myself, I might. It’s engrained into my being to never give up, and usually the idea of killing yourself is giving up the hope of defeating your enemy and surviving.”

“I see the wisdom in your logic, but what of us? If the true enemy comes we will be so outmatched, what are we to do if not use our guile to strike at the enemy where they do not expect it?”

Paul looked up at Thrawn’s dark eyes in all seriousness. “You take it as a personal insult to your intelligence that you can’t find a way to strike at them with your honor intact. If you truly are that inferior then you don’t deserve to win.”

Thrawn’s nostrils huffed in an unpleasant gesture, but Paul could sense he’d struck the right nerve.

“You are always aggressive, but deceptively so. You turn desperation into spite.”

“A trick I learned a long time ago from the Black Knight,” Paul admitted with a sly smile. “He taught us how to lose, and once we had that lesson bashed into our skulls we hardly ever did again.”

“You taught me that lesson well.”

“And now the new masterminds will learn it…though at an even faster pace.”

5

October 24, 3329

Lethim System (occupation zone)

Harsdre

Mathew-25339 led the Clan Saber fleet from one of four Warship-class jumpships attached to this invasion, but thankfully none of them had been necessary. The mastermind’s marker had successfully been infiltrated onto the planet and now the last of the lizard evacuation ships were leaving, carrying the unwitting prisoners back to the Krachnika System where they’d be integrated into the overall population and learn as much of the truth as was allowed. The Archon didn’t know what that was. A lot of what happened on the friendly lizard world was kept a secret and even Paul hadn’t been telling his own Clan everything, but Mathew knew more than most did.

This system was now under Clan Saber jurisdiction, meaning that it was their responsibility for security and cleanup. There was a full planet and a few partial moons of infrastructure to clear away and only so many Star Force recycling teams to do the job. The Clans were handling many systems on their own to try and get the occupation zone wiped clean of the previous lizard infestation as fast as possible, but the truth was that even after the last battle was fought it would be centuries later before it was all cleaned up.

All of which meant that since Clan Saber had taken it upon itself to conquer, hold, and recycle this system’s infrastructure, it would add it to the occupation zone territory rather than to its own. It was work that needed to be done, hence the Clans were chipping in along with numerous other factions to assist Mainline in the tasks, but it also meant that no one else was going to be coming into the system to help, and given the remoteness of the location no one would be passing through either. It was a quiet little inconsequential piece of lizard territory that Saber had graciously offered to take care of.

In other cases that would have been typical. The Clans did what needed to be done even if they didn’t get something material out of it, but in this case Paul had other plans and he’d entrusted Mathew to keep an eye on them for him, which meant he’d be relocating to the surface base soon. One of the warships would stay in orbit while the others were reassigned to other systems, giving him enough naval firepower to cover most contingencies. If a situation arose where he needed more he could call for reinforcements from a number of nearby systems that the Sabers were likewise responsible for, but this was the only one yet to use an alternative recycling method.

When the ground teams confirmed that the last of the lizards had been removed, Mathew waited for all of their ships to leave before he contacted the junior fleet commander that he would be working with for the duration of this assignment. His crew and ground team already knew the secret that was being kept from the rest of the Clans and Star Force as a whole, so when he contacted the jumpship that served as the temporary flagship of the reclamation fleet he did so without worry about eavesdropping, routing the call through his bridge command chair.

A hologram of a lizard administrator appeared before him, but Mathew knew he wouldn’t have to bother with the translation equipment on this one.

“The system is evacuated. You may begin landing operations. I’ll meet with you personally on the surface once the command center is completed.”

“Specify a landing zone,” the lizard requested in a neutral tone, speaking more than passable English.

“You may choose your own so long as it is within serviceable range of the command center.”

“We will begin landing within 3 hours. Contact me when you wish me to report in person.”

“Carry on,” Mathew said, ending the brief and admittedly weird conversation.

Three days later the Archon took a dropship down to the prefabricated command center that doubled as a small city capable of housing some 2800 individuals, but for his purposes it was only housing 32, all of which were Human save for a pair of Kiritas that were well experienced with recycling missions. All were Clan Saber and would be living within the command center for the foreseeable future, but they wouldn’t be alone.

When Mathew sent the signal a flurry of lizard Kirbies flew over and landed on the paved cargo pad, but no one came out save for one tall administrator that Mathew walked out to meet.

“We are awaiting your orders,” it said amicably, but with a coolness that Mathew sensed was misinterpretation rather than emotion. Lizard speech was a bit odd, as was that of every other race, but this one’s emotions registered as nothing but eagerness and loyalty. He wanted to get to work and didn’t register the Archon or the Star Force personnel as threats.

That’s exactly what Paul had told him should be the norm, but he hadn’t fully believed him given the enormous amount of combat experience he had against the lizards…but then again, this one wasn’t normal, made all the obvious by its blue skin that stood out in stark contrast to the standard green. Looking beyond the administrator, Mathew could see ranks of standard variant lizards waiting in the holds of the Kirbies, all of which were just as blue and hopefully so predisposed.

“I’ll need an interface team along with yourself set up to give me oversite and necessary command and control, though I don’t anticipate much use for the latter if you perform as expected. I’ll need round the clock teams even if I’m not there to utilize them. You are free to roam the facilities and the planet as needed so long as I have someone who can contact you at a moment’s notice. Your people will be given empty quarters to reconfigure as needed while I retain some for our own purposes. Foodstuffs will be separate. I’m told you’ve brought everything you need to sustain yourselves?”

“We have, and we can build any structures needed.”

“I want the hatchery set up here and only here.”

“That won’t be a problem initially, but this facility isn’t large enough to field the numbers that we will require in coming years.”

“We can arrange an annex as needed. I need to be on hand to monitor the new population.”

“You’re here to study us as well?”

“Yes. I’m to oversee this mission as well as collect data on your effectiveness. That is not meant to suggest we think you incapable,” he added, sensing a shift in the lizard’s thoughts, “but your kind are so new we need as much data as we can get.”

“We serve the Clan, and I will assist you in whatever manner is required.”

“You can start with setting up operations here. Leave a quarter of the landing pad open for our uses, but you can pile as many ships and cargo on the rest as you want. Follow me and I’ll show you where to set up shop.”

The administrator turned around and made a hand gesture, after which several dozen blue lizards ran out to catch up to him, forming into three lines that trailed in his wake as the lone Archon led them inside the facility with their blue skin making for a sharp contrast with the predominantly white architecture.

He led them through the facility on a short tour with the administrator leaving a few lizards behind at various points. When Mathew and him eventually ended up at the command center where several other Humans were they made themselves acquainted, with the administrator being interested in learning each of the Humans’ duties and positions so he could better interface with them. As Mathew’s staff worked over operational details and procedures he noticed on the security monitors within the facility that there were lines of lizards moving to and fro carrying cargo and tools like a string of ants.

Once the initial briefing was over he told the administrator to work uninterrupted and he did as instructed, leaving the Archon to wander around the complex observing the lizards as they were already beginning to construct their own architecture within the Star Force chambers and even their smaller quarters…and unlike their usual yellow/tan color scheme, which their orbital fleet fielded, the equipment and building materials being brought in were displaying a variation of blue that looked almost aquatic in nature. It was so vivid that it almost glowed, with Mathew noting that it gave the lizard tech a bit more elegance than normal while clearly marking it and the lizards as Clan Saber.

Paul had told him new ships would be forthcoming, but apparently the rest of their apparatus had already gone through the necessary conversions, and by the look of it there was were subtle alterations to the standard lizard tech. Mathew hadn’t been told anything about that, but he could spot several differences.

Whatever Paul was playing at here, he hoped he knew what he was doing.

Riley was onboard the Zeus, back in the Preserve again, without him, Nefron, or anyone else getting a peep out of the Uriti. Part of him wanted to think that Kacie had just been punking him, but he knew she wouldn’t have done that…let alone dared to do it. The fact that the Uriti could have been communicating with them all along and had simply been choosing not to was both exciting and unbelievably frustrating. They were simply ignoring him while at the same time following every command given to them.

He assumed it was due to the way in which the two forms of communication were occurring. The orders probably seemed like Uriti business and his other attempts to be nothing more than inconsequential chatter. There was something about that to be admired, but it was making his return here completely useless…without even another attack for him to smash.

So it was completely out of left field when he was woken in the middle of the night as the gauntlet he wore sent a telepathic communication to him from one of the Uriti.

It wasn’t a word, but the meaning was clear.

Why?

Greg was stunned by the intensity of the mind on the other end, not knowing which one it was as he hurriedly tried to ascertain the subject matter. He quickly got out of bed and over to his personal terminal, getting an update of system affairs within a few seconds and seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Not wanting to lose the opportunity when he had it, he responded with a question of his own asking for context. What was the Uriti referring to?

Images flashed into his mind and he realized they were the vantage point from the Uriti as they ran through the various training exercises. That was something Riley could easily explain.

The not using words part was both a hindrance and helpful, but Riley was able to get the message across that it was to improve and strengthen the Uriti, but the question came back to him again.

Why?

Answering that question could come in many forms…some potentially dangerous if it involved the Chixzon and what had happened to them. Tell the Uriti of their origin from Hadarak and would they try to get back to the core to find them? Better to not give up that fact just yet.

As he tried to mentally construct an answer before transmitting it he was able to figure out who was talking to him. It was Elise, referred to by the Chixzon as Kekran, and the third additional Uriti in The Nine’s set. It had been unknown and unguarded, thus high on the priority list to retrieve. It had been much further away than two found in lizard space, but it had been the 6th to enter the Preserve and was still somewhat a newcomer to the current herd of 7.

Elise had gone through a decent amount of training, but he guessed she was wondering why the others were doing this so fervently. Sometimes for Humans, or other Star Force races, it took a while before the training bug bit you and you really started to feel the fitness and advancements taking shape. If that’s what was going on here he needed to frame his response in a different way.

Without going into specifics, he got the point across that there were enemies that wanted to kill the Uriti and that Star Force wanted to make them as strong as possible so when they came to kill them they would be able to fight back and survive…hoping that was something the Uriti would be able to comprehend.

Suddenly there was a pounding in his head as another Uriti added its telepathic link and demanded an answer.

Who are they? Where can we find and kill them?

“Oh shit,” Riley said, looking at the ceiling of his quarters as he belatedly identified the second Uriti as Bahamut.

He sent a response of ‘many’ along with the idea that the Preserve was a place for the Uriti to train and grow stronger and that going out to the enemy now would be to their advantage. Then he added in the fact that there were other Uriti out there that Star Force was finding and bringing here, going a stretch further to suggest that the more of them there were together the more powerful they would be.

Riley was knocked off his feet and fell into a half standing position with two feet and one hand on the floor as he was bent over with now all seven Uriti in his head wanting to know where the others were. The sense of anger, longing, and loyalty was so powerful Riley found himself shaking as the emotions flowed through him. He wanted to disconnect but told himself to weather the storm for he didn’t know if or when they’d communicate with him again.

He sent back the limited idea of their previous capture and them being hidden across the galaxy, then added Star Force’s search and transportation of them to the Preserve, along with the speed component of how slow the Uriti were compared to their own ships and that they could get the Uriti here far faster than if they traveled on their own, hoping that would help to discourage them from going looking for them on their own.

Again, the question came back to him from two or three of them…there were so many minds talking to him that it was hard to differentiate.

Why?

This time it was directed at Star Force’s search. Why were they collecting the lost and imprisoned Uriti?

The answer to that came so simply that Riley didn’t even think about how to structure it. With what was the telepathic equivalent of a beam of light, everything that defined Star Force flowed from him to them in a spark of confidence and brashness.

Because we’re the good guys.

Following that there was a wave of gratitude coming from all seven, then just as suddenly as they appeared in his mind they were all gone, leaving Riley breathing hard as he stood up and tried to steady his frayed nerves.

On an impulse he took off his gauntlet and tossed it on his bed, taking an extra few steps away from it as if it was poison as he sat down at his terminal and opened a comm. There was no answer for several minutes, with Riley waiting on it as he cradled his head in his hands trying to get himself back under full control.

Eventually a holograph of Nefron appeared, looking down on him from above the terminal.

“What’s wrong?” the Chixzon asked.

“I found a flaw in your gauntlet design,” Riley said, looking up at him with the unsteadiness in his eyes evident.

“You made contact with one of the Uriti…direct contact?”

“No. One of them made contact with me, and the subject matter got the others interested and they all started talking at once.”

Nefron’s eyes narrowed. “Are you damaged?”

“I’m not well, but I’m recovering. If we get more Uriti here…”

“We need limited channels. More than one if tolerable, or maybe a limitation on data transfer. What did they want?”

“They want the other Uriti with them…and they want to fight their enemies.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I left the Chixzon out of it, but they’ve already been attacked once and I suggested that there were others far more powerful that want them dead and they need to stay here and train to get stronger.”

“The empire in the core?”

“Yeah. They’ll kill them if they find them…along with all of us.”

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me who they are.”

“You are helping. We need an outside viewpoint, and if we let you know what they are you’ll lose it.”

“Logical. I’ll suppress my curiosity on the condition that you make use of my skills. I don’t want to be killed by someone I don’t even see coming.”

“You know we’re not wasting you, so just shut up and get that inhibitor working…and warn the others. I’m going to crash for a while.”

“Take your time. I’ll handle it.”

“And remember your telepathy is weaker than ours, so don’t go chatting with them.”

“Noted,” the Chixzon said with a touch of irreverence.

6

June 13, 3337

Lethim System (occupation zone)

Harsdre

After completing his morning workouts Mathew took to his normal rounds, which at this point in the mission was little more than observing the lizards at work. After a quick check in at the command center he headed over to the hatchery and watched another small batch of standard variants draw their first breath. Rather than growing them in huge numbers at periodic times the administrator was having them staggered so new personnel would be added daily. That did help Mathew, in that he could observe all of them for anomalies, but today was just like any other day.

A violent reaction when tasting the air for the first time, the others restraining them until they got their whereabouts, then they would be taken to a quality control facility where they’d undergo a few days of testing. That had been an addition Paul had made, whereas normally lizards could go into the field the same day they were ‘born’ given the genetic memory given to them and the physical maturity achieved while they were in the growth pods.

So far there was a 93% success rate in the first testing, with the remaining 7% all passing through after no more than a week. It seemed some took a little longer to get their bearings, though all of them had exactly the same genetic code. In that way they were all clones, but individual differences were one of the main things Paul wanted to know about and Mathew was always keen to spot anything that differed from standard behaviors.

During the testing phase the lizards were offered a choice as to whether or not they wanted to attend to their duties immediately or go through additional training. So far only 3 lizards out of some 308,000 had chosen training, with those 3 having become very special additions that Paul had sent out of the system to another facility, to do what exactly Mathew didn’t know. His task and knowledge centered around this operation…and while he didn’t have a lot to do he had been thoroughly blown away at the work being done here.

Within Star Force it was commonly known that the Kiritas were the most prolific workers, capable of doing redundant tasks with ease and a speed that made them the fastest builders, miners, and cargo handlers by far. Whereas other races would grow bored with the repetitive tasks they never seemed to. It was like asking a runner if they got tired of taking steps, and that ability to churn out results so readily and reliably was what prompted the creation of the Kiritak…a different division within Star Force from the Kiritas faction that was focused solely on resource production and logistics.

But these lizards were giving them a run for their money, and given the fact that most of the population here had been grown from genetic samples, this operation was far exceeding what the Kiritas could have done with an equal number of initial workers. The egg layers could produce alarmingly fast, but their infants didn’t come ready and able to work. They had to go through the maturia process and that took time. They might be better than the lizards because of that, but the ability for these guys to be put to use almost immediately after leaving their pods was something that continued to impress Mathew.

After his stint at the hatchery the Archon went outside and hopped on a speeder, riding the hovering bike out across the open spaces between facilities so he could view the ongoing work. There were lizard buildings everywhere, but set up in a distinctively Star Force pattern. Mathew rose up and flew over some of them, seeing lines of the blue lizards walking or running to and from the buildings in predictable patterns. They never deviated. Always stayed glued to their tasks. And it wasn’t due to a mindlessness, rather a pure loyalty to the mission.

Mathew had assumed otherwise in the beginning, but after spending several years amongst the lizards he’d learned differently. They operated, thought, and just about breathed as a team. Not a typical Star Force team where the strength of the individual was the basic building blocks of a mutually beneficial alliance, but rather a necessary bond between them that had to be there, otherwise these lizards could not function.

It was a glaring weakness, but so long as they were humming along as a unit it was also a staggering advantage. He hadn’t seen any of these in combat, so he wasn’t sure what alterations had been made in their coding for that, but as far as the recycling and construction work going on here, they all functioned as a cell in a giant organism. These lizards were a unit rather than a collection of individuals, and Mathew had finally grown to understand what Paul had meant by that when he’d first assigned him here.

The Achilles heel of Star Force was the experience factor. It took time to mint an Archon, let alone a ViLord, and while they were wholly superior to just about everyone else, for work like this the lizards could be effective in this unit function while bypassing that experience requirement entirely. They had everything they needed for their assigned tasks in their genetic memory, and while they would grow better at what they did over time, there was no learning curve required.

Which was probably why lizards in the past fought in pack tactics. Losing them was almost meaningless when you could spam produce more of them at will. Mathew knew Paul wasn’t going to go for anything like that, but where construction was concerned he almost wished there was a downloadable memory packet that Humans could use. It would save a lot of time if you could just plug in the knowledge, or perhaps even be born with it. Humans already had some genetic knowledge, such as knowing how to swallow or breath, but the lizards had taken it to a whole other level and given the usefulness of it being displayed here, he didn’t know why such a method wasn’t being used for other applications.

And maybe that’s exactly what Paul was looking into, using these lizards for study in addition to the reclamation of this planet. When they finished here eventually the planet would have no structures on it whatsoever. Those built for the project would be removed and the system would stay empty until otherwise assigned a purpose. Where these lizards would go he didn’t know, and by the time they finished there were going to be millions of them here.

Mathew passed through the residential buildings, flying over the heads of workers changing shifts, then turned to the east, passing over some empty regions that saw nothing but traffic and a few construction sites up to the bioharvest facilities. Unlike the original lizards, there was no meat production here nor were there any traditional lizard foods. Everything here was Star Force designed but produced with lizard tech. The food was edible by Humans and others but tailored specifically to the lizards. There was no ambrosia for them yet, but Mathew had a feeling it would be forthcoming if for no other reason than to see how the lizards’ work rate increased with it.

The Archon landed on top of one of the buildings and found an entry hatch next to the landing pad where a few dropships were sitting while being loaded up with cargo crates. They weren’t Star Force dropships but a new design built by the lizards that was somewhere between a Kirby and a fat rock. They were not aerodynamic, but they did hold a lot of cargo and had decent armor and shields. For now they were being used to take the raw produce and haul it over to foodstuff production factories instead of utilizing a rail line or other permanent construction.

Mathew had inquired about that and the administrators, of which there were several now, told him it was because the ‘droplets’ could be taken out of the system and used for other tasks both there and here, whereas a rail line would have to be destroyed along with the rest of the construction here. The less they had to deconstruct the better, and they’d been instructed to make as much of the infrastructure as they could mobile.

That meant Paul had more plans for these guys than just this project. Maybe they’d be sent to another system to do the exact same thing, but Mathew had a suspicion that Paul was up to something far more ambitious.

When the Archon went down inside the massive building he roamed the levels that had fields of plants growing inside sealed chambers. No one was allowed inside due to the altered atmospheres that prodded the plants to grow faster and larger than normal while also giving greater yields. Most of those in this building were either corn or jupitla, both of which were grain crops. The corn stalks were barely shoulder height on him, but each one had between 3 and 5 ears of corn on it, each of which was thick and long.

Genetic modification of plants was an easy thing, and whereas corn crops used to be getting bigger and bigger before Star Force created the bioharvest facilities, they were now shorter so that they could stack more fields inside the same building, though the jupitla was a far better fit, barely rising 18 inches in height and producing a series of beans on the ramrod straight stalks. Mathew passed by banks of fields, three of which were pancaked on top of each other and equal to his height.

When he passed into another section of the facility he saw one set of jupitla fields being harvested. It was third down the stack with the upper two already being empty and pushed up near the ceiling on this level, with the ‘open’ one having its atmosphere still self-contained but the height of the clear chamber being increased enough for a harvester machine to move through it. The debris from the stalks was then sent out one tube-like shoot while the beans were sent to another.

Mathew watched as the field was quickly harvested, then the machine was extracted through an airlock and the field height was diminished again. It was then elevated up with the others and the field below it grew its glass-like box in height as the harvester entered and began to repeat the process.

Mathew followed the tubes into an adjacent facility where the grain was filtered to remove excess material and then deposited into the crates that were being shipped up to the rooftop to be loaded onto the droplets, whose name had come from directly from Paul. It fit, so he didn’t mind, but it was also a bit of a joke. The main point was to make the ships their own Saber version rather than using the old style Kirbies, and in that regard they had succeeded along with the rest of the lizard equipment and facilities here. All built by them but styled to fit Paul’s Clan without giving them any advanced tech.

Then again there wasn’t a lot required here. Harvesting of grain plants was pretty basic stuff, and even the recycling process wasn’t overly complicated. Mathew walked through the area where the excess plant material was collected and a portion of it was harvested for additional uses beyond food, then the rest was sent to an incinerator where the resultant ash was sent to the teams prepping new fields. It’d be combined with the thin soil base along with other supplements to replace the material the crops had sucked out of it, then seeds would be added with planting machines and the atmosphere would be jacked up in pressure, CO2, and humidity creating an environment in which the plants thrived, along with as much light as they required, all produced internally so there was no reliance on natural sunlight.

It was all standard tech that Star Force had been using for centuries, now modified to produce what the lizards needed, and as Mathew walked through the facility he got the feeling that it was both lizard and Star Force despite being around nothing but the aqua-colored infrastructure and the blue lizard workers.

On his way back up to the roof he sensed a Human mind approaching, not expecting anyone else to be here. When he focused on it he knew it wasn’t anyone he was familiar with and for a moment thought it was Paul, but it didn’t feel quite like him. The individual made contact and gave him a ‘come to me’ thought, with Mathew redirecting towards the Human.

When the two finally entered the same hallway Mathew was taken aback, seeing not Paul but another trailblazer.

“Mathew,” Jason-025 said as if he’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t be, “what exactly is Paul up to here?”

Paul was back in the Krachnika System by the time Jason’s command ship caught up to his, with his friend simply saying they needed to have a talk face to face. He expected it could be a number of things when he transferred over to the Sanguine Blade and met his best friend/twin in his personal quarters, oddly enough, instead of the hangar bay.

Jason let the door close before he spoke, raising an eyebrow at him. “What the hell are you doing with the lizards?”

Paul sighed. “Busted, huh?”

“Blue Saber lizards working as a recycling team?”

“Oh,” Paul said, cheering up slightly. “You haven’t found any of the good stuff then.”

Jason did a doubletake, then couldn’t help but snicker a bit. “Alright, time to come clean. What are you up to?”

“Working a new angle,” he said, jumping over an armrest and landing in a big comfy chair as Jason sat on the edge of his bed.

“I thought we weren’t going to annex the lizards.”

Paul raised a cautionary finger. “We’re not. Doing that would be a mistake, I think. Have you kept up on the Uriti reports?”

“Yeah.”

“Far more powerful when working together, as well as displaying a herd mentality that the Chixzon never bothered to discover.”

“You think lizard individuality is a bad thing?”

“I think if we go individual first, like we have with every other race we’ve annexed, it’s going to be a detrimental factor.”

“The Lacvamat,” Jason pointed out.

Paul shook his head. “Still individual based in a group setting. What I’m working here is the idea of treating the group as an individual.”

Jason readjusted his butt on the edge of the bed as his mind chewed on that. “Dog pack?”

“That doesn’t even come close. This is something new, I think, and I’ve been working with Thrawn on modifying their genetic structure. The blue lizards you found are the experimental version we’ve developed for Clan Saber. There are others that he is working with.”

“You’re letting them reproduce en mass again?”

“Somewhat, but the focus is still on bringing in existing populations. I don’t want to just keep them as prisoners, and that’s what will happen if we don’t create a future for them. They can’t join Axius. Their temperament resists the individual nature of Star Force. I’m trying to modify the existing lizard civilization into something tolerable.”

“While getting your own batch?”

“They’re being useful.”

“Obviously,” Jason said with a disbelieving smirk. “I saw your production stats. They’re working like Kiritas.”

“Better, actually, when you factor in the reproduction rates. They’re growing the workers locally rather than shipping them in.”

“No maturias?”

“Nope. Skipping that entirely.”

“Just for recycling and construction?”

“We’re not working the combat angle,” Paul said, guessing as to his concern. “I’m not trusting them with our level of tech, just helping them modify what they’ve got now. And there’s no way I’m sending someone into combat underequipped.”

“For a while I thought you were going to show them the ways of the Force, then send them past the border line to fight their kin.”

“Thrawn would have liked that,” Paul admitted, “but he sees the bigger picture now.”

“Meaning what?”

“The V’kit’no’sat…and don’t give me that look. He can be trusted.”

“Not to rat us out to the other lizards?” Jason said with an elevated voice, then he held up a hand in apology. “I know you’re not stupid, I’m just not up to speed. Please explain how this isn’t reckless.”

“Sure…as soon as you let me in on your little project.”

“Which one?” he scoffed.

“The one I can’t seem to get any data on.”

Jason smiled. “Fair enough. I was going to let you know anyway once I got a good prototype. Been using the Uriti files to try and modify the star forge tech for a number of applications. I’m pretty sure they get stronger inside a star and that the V’kit’no’sat chased some Hadarak inside one. The files don’t say that, but I think that’s why they know they can’t go there. I think they got their asses kicked because of a combination of speed limitations and enhanced abilities due to either the energy or the gravity.”

“And you’re using this speculation to do what?”

“For starters, making a very hot Hoth.”

7

Paul’s eyes widened. “And you accused me of being reckless.”

Jason held up a hand. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“It’s a star. You go in it, it kills you.”

“Not if you’re a Uriti. We just have to figure out how to mimic their biology.”

“Alright,” Paul said, crossing his hands over his chest as he lounged in the big chair. “Impress me.”

“Where better to hide something than a star? Say you have a keepsake, a big bucket of credits, some experimental tech…whatever. Put it in a pod and lower it into a star. You lose most sensor contact with it unless there is a tether link, like the shield columns the star forges use. They maintain communications and what not while whatever you have down there isn’t visible to the outside world. If you want to build a badass warship without anyone seeing it, why not construct it inside a star?”

“You’re bouncing around a bit.”

“You liked that idea though.”

“It’s still crazy.”

“Not if we can get the shielding set up properly. The Uriti both absorb and reflect the radiation, while the pressure and gravity feed them…that’s my theory anyway, and it’s based on a lot of speculation, but for our needs we don’t even need to know for sure. We simply have to build a bottle that can survive inside a star and feed off the energy to sustain itself.”

“The fishing line kind of gives away whatever you’re hiding.”

“Unless you cut the line. Communications go out both ways, no sensors, no nothing. Like an old school submarine only without the sonar. You poke your head out and someone could be waiting to chop it off, but they can’t come in after you.”

“Depth charges?”

“If you’re shallow sure, but that’s easy enough to work around. The trick is using a clock. Tell whoever is down there, or even if it’s purely automation, to rise back to the surface at a specific time and date…”

“…and pick up your bottle of goodies,” Paul finished. “And if we sensor stealth it right, even V’kit’no’sat sensors won’t be able to pick it up in that maelstrom. Dangerous, but potentially useful so long as a glitch doesn’t get you all fried.”

“There’s more. How about using relay buoys to do the matter sorting of a star forge then transmitting the useful stuff via slingshot out to a higher central facility.”

“Thought of that. There’s no point when the star forge can put out multiple tendrils simultaneously.”

“I’m thinking of something a lot lower, something that can essentially hide in the upper levels of a star and peek out into orbit, throwing material to a collection station or…” Jason said, letting that possibility hang in the air.

Paul’s eyebrows raised. “A fire hose.”

“It’d be tough to aim at a target, but I think it might have a chance against a Uriti or any ship dumb enough to stand their ground nearby.”

The Saber leader frowned. “Uriti bathe in stars, how is throwing a little of that water on them going to hurt them?”

“Not from the energy in the matter, but from the matter itself. Like a sandblaster railgun. If we can accelerate it to sufficient levels I think it would damage them. They may have pressure to deal with in a star, but they don’t have collisions with material anywhere near railgun speed.”

“I wouldn’t put any credits on that. Besides, we already know how to kill them if we have to.”

“Won’t work on the Hadarak, but that’s not my main point. Think fire hose again, sitting just inside the star and able to send a solar flare-caliber shot of star stuff out at any target within range. Not very useful to go hunting with, but if you need a strong point to retreat to, the surrounding stellar haze is going to act as very effective shielding.”

“And?”

“And,” Jason continued, “what if the fire hose becomes a squirt gun? A mobile squirt gun.”

“Ouch.”

“Think it through.”

Paul did just that, using his Sav-enhanced mind with all its tactical experience to sort out whether this was a good idea or bad.

“Fireflies,” he finally said, giving it a partial stamp of approval. “Limited use, but very effective in select mission profiles. Not sure about the mining aspects though.”

“Lower altitude allows for deeper penetration.”

Paul looked at him quizzically. “How many have you built?”

“36…with two collection stations.”

“And?”

“The ability to reposition the drone collectors to various locations is allowing for hot spot hunting. Collection numbers are somewhere in the 300% to 1200% range.”

Paul whistled.

“You want one, I know,” Jason said with a smile. “Now, back to your project. Be forthcoming and I’ll share.”

“Ask.”

“What’s your endgame?”

“For the independents…to give them a purpose and a new identity without incorporating them into the empire. For the Saber lizards…to turn their pack mentality away from barbarism and into a useful tool.”

“People aren’t tools.”

“Voluntary tools. With the option to opt out of the unit structure whenever they wish.”

“Ring the bell?”

“Something like that. The ones I’ve got now live to serve the Clan and the dissenters aren’t being overlooked or killed anymore. Those I’m funneling out into other programs, but eventually they’ll have a path to full freedom.”

“Into Star Force?”

“Are we going to turn away one now?”

Jason chewed on his lip as he thought. “It’s never occurred to me that one would come asking for asylum.”

“And for good reason. But are we ever going to turn away someone simply because of their race?”

“If they’re legit, no. These guys can’t reproduce on their own either, so there wouldn’t be a need for lizard maturias in Axius.”

“I plan to keep them in Saber if at all possible, but as you said, they’re people, not tools, but if they feel more comfortable playing the role of a tool where they don’t have to think, only obey, I can use that focus to our advantage.”

“Like how?”

“Non-combat applications for now. Instead of assigning an individual to a mission I can assign a team of lizards, whether it be recycling, construction, mining, fabrication…whatever. The unit is an individual quantity and the people in it are parts, not a whole. With anyone else it would probably be limiting, but the lizards seem to thrive in that kind of environment.”

“And you want your Clan to end up like that?”

“An addition to the rest, but yes.”

“Why? Other than the obvious worker functions.”

“Aren’t those enough?”

“Not for you. What else are you getting at?”

“It’s the growth rate. Specifically the ability to seed planets.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “What do you expect is coming?”

“We can’t kill the lizards because they spread too fast to track down. I want that same inability to kill for Clan Saber. While the rest of us do the fighting the lizards can be spreading and building bases for us to retreat into.”

“This is about the V’kit’no’sat.”

“Yes it is. They’re going to get here at some point. I can feel it. And we are still not ready.”

Jason scratched the side of his head as he stared down at the floor. “Combat applications?”

“Scouts.”

“No spamming as a last resort?”

“Thrawn would. But you know as well as I do it won’t work against the V’kit’no’sat.”

“Not unless you gave them better weapons.”

Paul cracked a smile, but Jason just frowned harder. “What?”

“I’m running things by Thrawn and he’s having his lizards try and figure out ways to fight such a superior opponent. I’m nixing the dishonorable methods and forcing him to come up with other forms of deviousness.”

“They are good at that. Are you giving them our tech to play with or just going to steal their ideas?”

“The independents don’t get our tech. The Saber lizards are another matter. In the long run they might get it, but not now.”

“Who do the Sabers take orders from?”

“Me and the other Archons. We’ve taken the place of the templars in their genetic structuring.”

“Your doing?”

“Thrawn’s actually. All the newly grown lizards, independent and Saber, have the same structure.”

“Wait a second, you’re saying all the lizards will obey your orders willingly?”

“The originals won’t be too eager about it, but they’ll follow Thrawn and the other masterminds, and they follow me so…”

“What other masterminds?”

“We grew some.”

Jason’s jaw dropped slightly. “Damn it, Paul. Would it kill you to keep me in the loop?”

“I still don’t know how all of this is going to work out yet, and until I have a firm structure in place I didn’t feel like sharing. And it’s not like you shared your stellar squirt guns before you built and tested them either.”

“I haven’t built any of your ‘fireflies’ yet, that’s just an idea floating around.”

“Still, we all keep secrets…for a while.”

“And you don’t want help with this one?”

“Everyone is pretty set on the lizards not being annexed. After all the fighting we’ve done and are still doing with them that’s understandable, but it’s different with me because I actually got one to surrender and he brought a lot of his buddies over with him, and still is.”

“We’ve noticed,” Jason reminded him. “You’re saving us a lot of time, equipment, and maybe a few lives by getting those systems to voluntarily evacuate. That alone is enough to make us take interest.”

Paul shook his head. “This might still blow up in my face, and if that happens I want the collateral damage to be isolated to Clan Saber.”

“Blow up how? Other than Thrawn running off to tell the V’kit’no’sat where we are.”

“Scruples can’t be codified.”

“You don’t want people following orders just to follow orders?”

“I have to find a balance within their pack mentality. They need to be able to determine right from wrong, but they are so comfortable and efficient with having to not do that. They let administrators and masterminds and templars do their thinking for them and it allows them to focus on their roles.”

“We do the same.”

“Not to this extent, which is why they have an advantage. They can literally go to work or into combat a day after they’re born. How much of right and wrong can they understand from genetic memories and how much do they have to sort out through experience and feel?”

“You’re afraid of the weapon damaging someone by accident, by a situation where you’re not there to give them the right orders.”

“Yeah I am, but I also know that there is no guarantee in the rest of Star Force either. There are bad people out there that occasionally do bad things before we shut them down, but we’ve got the individualized model pretty ironed out. This unit-based thing is brand new for me and the old model Thrawn is used to won’t do. We’re both covering new ground and I want to keep this in my pocket while I figure out whether or not it’ll actually work.”

“And if it doesn’t, what happens to all the new lizards you’re growing?”

“Like you said, they can’t reproduce on their own. Unless they obtain self-sufficiency they’ll die out eventually.”

“How close are they to that?”

“Thrawn’s got them extended well beyond previous lifespans, and not just because he isn’t spending their lives recklessly anymore. They’ll do workouts if ordered, but they don’t understand what they’re doing.”

“That kills efficiency.”

“I know. It’s something else I’ve got to work on.”

“But you’re wanting this to work pretty bad?”

Paul tilted his head to the side sarcastically. “Having more population than Clan Star Fox is worth noting.”

“Oh geez,” Jason said, holding his head in his hands. “Randy is going to hate you.”

“If I can make it work,” Paul added, emphasizing the ‘if’ with a telepathic resonance.

“If you do, are you going to share?”

“You want some lizards too?” Paul asked, not having considered that.

“Not really, but if you turn them all badass that might change.”

“I’m not even sure how that would work. Clan only? Or add them to Mainline?”

“Mainline already has the Kiritak, no reason they couldn’t add a lizard element. I can tell you don’t like that option.”

“No I don’t,” Paul admitted.

“Feeling protective of them?”

“There’s a dangerous line here between teammate and slave that I’m not sure others will be able to distinguish between.”

“Give us some credit, please,” Jason said, but Paul firmly shook his head.

“No. Everything I’m working off of here is an improvement on what the lizards previously had. Even if it sucks they’re better off than before. Implementing a formal program for Star Force means it has to be airtight. Good enough won’t do. I don’t know how to incorporate the lizard unit structure into that, and I don’t want to strip them of their greatest strength to make sure their individual sovereignty isn’t violated. That’s why I have to keep this to Saber for now and the foreseeable future. This is off in left field and the rest of Star Force isn’t…and I can’t bring it in yet because I don’t fully understand it.”

“But do you want some help out in left field, is what I’m asking.”

“I already have help, and it’s Thrawn.”

“You two close enough that I’d be a third wheel?”

“He trusts me, and that trust has been a long time in earning, but I’ve still got a lot to work on with him. No one else can do that.”

“What about these other masterminds you mentioned?”

“They’re partially patterned off of his memories, but they’re different. They didn’t know the templars even though they think they did. Thrawn outranks them, which is new, but they also follow me and the other Archons in Clan Saber. Thrawn is pretty much just following me and I don’t insult him by sending orders for him through anyone else.”

“Ok, you keep Thrawn close, but is there anything else you want or need help with?”

“It is very hard to fight these guys and work with them at the same time. Those elements of Saber involved in the fighting are kept separate from those few working with the friendly lizards. I know not to trust them, but at the same time I’m beginning to trust them. I’d rather those fighting on the front keep their singular perspective.”

“Not all of us are fighting on the front,” Jason pointed out. “Let’s make this simple. Do you need help with any part of this?”

Paul sighed. “Probably. But I can’t tell you exactly what.”

“That’s the biggest sign that you do need help. Let’s work this from another angle. What are you hoping to achieve?”

“Harness their strength and turn it honorable.”

“To what end? They’re ill-suited for fighting the V’kit’no’sat and turning them against other lizards is a blood bath that you don’t want.”

“And yet if I don’t, how many other planets out there are going to get slaughtered because I’m keeping Thrawn in here?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “So you are thinking about turning them loose across the border?”

“No…and yes. Logic is in favor of both alternatives and I can’t nail it down to one. I’m working the angles I can because if I don’t they’re just going to sit on their worlds and stagnate to death or get so bored they turn on us because they have nothing else to do. They need a purpose, Jason. More so even than we do. It’s what they live and breathe. It’s like a guy so infatuated with a girl that if he loses her he’s such a wreck he doesn’t even want to eat anymore. He has no hope, no future, even though it’s right in front of his face.”

“Their loyalty to their purpose is also their strength?”

“Yes,” Paul said, glad he could see the paradox. “How do I mitigate it without mitigating it?”

“By asking for help,” Jason said, standing up. “That decides it. We’re having a brainstorming session.”

“We?” Paul asked skeptically.

“Yeah, we. Arrange for a vacation, kiss Thrawn goodbye, then you’re coming back to the ADZ with me and we’re going to throw some more minds at this.”

“Who exactly?”

“The 2s. Randy especially might have some ideas.”

Paul facepalmed for a moment, closing his eyes and pinching the brim of his nose, but he couldn’t come up with a reason to argue with Jason so he decided to just go with it. “Alright, worth a try.”

“Long overdue try. Go get packing. There’s no need to waste time.”

Paul stood up and spread his arms wide. “Done.”

Jason smiled. “Don’t you need to talk to Thrawn first?”

“He’s on our comm grid, so I’ll just send him a message.”

“He’s on our comm grid?”

“Limited access.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but then had to laugh despite the silliness of that statement. “You’re right. I’m used to thinking of them as enemies so much that that seemed like a tremendously stupid thing to do. I guess we need you to bring us up to speed with these friendly lizards as we help you think a way around your paradox.”

“We can’t let them win,” Paul said in a suddenly serious tone. “We can’t let them dictate how we fight.”

“And this is our chance to prove them wrong?”

Paul nodded. “It’s them against the galaxy, conquer or die. We beat these guys by breaking their mythology as much as their bones.”

Jason smiled. “I think I’m going to quote that sometime in the future.”

“Be my guest.”

“And you’re thinking if you fail to make a place for them in Clan Saber, they’ll win the philosophical battle?”

“We’re supposed to be superior. If the lizards have to sacrifice their strength to join us…well, it’s just another dishonorable sacrifice, isn’t it?”

A grim determination set into Jason as he finally saw the battle Paul had been fighting all this time.

He nodded at his friend. “Challenge accepted.”

8

October 17, 3337

Degar System (Uriti Preserve)

Stellar orbit

The Knights of Quenar came onboard the Zeus with Riley waiting for them in a special cargo bay built for just such a purpose. Now that Nefron wasn’t the only one who could control the Uriti the need for paranoid security around him and this ship had ended, but there was no way any of the KoQ were getting onboard a Star Force ship without going through a mist scan…just in case they wanted to sneak someone or something else onboard at the same time.

However, they were bringing someone else with them, and openly so, with the smaller biped traveling in cuffs between the two upright quadrupeds. They’d told Riley they were bringing a prisoner with them to turn over to him, but hadn’t gone into detail beyond that.

The trio walked up to where he waited and an invisible force shoved the Jartool forward enough that it tripped and landed on a knee, tipping forward until Riley telekinetically caught it and kept it from face planting with his hands bound behind its back.

“This is the one responsible. One of many. But he should have the answers you seek.”

“To what question?” Riley inquired as he looked down on the lumpy silver skin of the Jartool…a race with a presence in the Preserve but not one of the major powers.

“Who wanted to test fire a weapon against the Uriti.”

“Which time? There have been three attempts.”

“All of them,” the KoQ said smugly, then preferring to remain silent.

Riley bypassed the typical conversation and dove into the alien’s mind, navigating around the unfamiliar language and tapping into visuals and themes. He poked around until he stumbled across a thread that he followed to the source…a massive conspiracy against the Preserve project that intended to either procure or destroy the Uriti.

It wasn’t laid out in summary form, so Riley had a lot of digging to do and the KoQ were patient enough to give him time. The Jartool, whose name was Emon, didn’t resist or talk. Curiosity had Riley try and find the reason for that, leading to the treatment he’d received by the KoQ…in addition to the people they’d killed getting to Emon. That alone solidified Riley’s resolve to cut them out of as much of the Preserve operations as he could, for these guys would seemingly do whatever they deemed necessary to accomplish their stated goals.

Riley continued further into the Jartool’s mind, ticking off every faction that was involved in the conspiracy and some of the attempts they’d made to gain leverage here, some which had not been detected by Star Force, though they’d been unsuccessful anyway. The two subsequent attacks on the Uriti after the large fleet initially dove to their deaths had been small ones, accomplished by a single ship, and were testing different weapon systems for effectiveness before they were quickly obliterated. The Jartool had been one of several races recording from a distance and transmitting the data out to…

It seemed the conspiracy also had a base within Star Force territory, in the occupation zone, and right under a surveillance satellite that had been tricked into not registering their presence. How they’d managed to achieve that this Emon didn’t know, but figuring it out was top item on the trailblazer’s to-do list.

“They have a base nearby,” Riley finally said, addressing the KoQ as the Jartool simply stared at the floor knowing there was nothing he could do to resist. He didn’t know the full telepathic power of the Archon, but it was apparently known that they could read memories and this one had no idea how to even resist such a thing. The KoQ’s methods of information retrieval had been…different, but at least they confirmed that they did not possess telepathy. What they did have was basically an information hack that accessed the main through mechanical means, and this one had suffered through it for quite some time before being brought here.

“Shall we eliminate it?”

“No, I’ll handle this personally. I need to do it our way. Your methods are not acceptable to the stability of this region…or otherwise.”

“We did not expect, nor require your approval,” the KoQ reprimanded him slightly. “We will, however, follow your lead in this matter.”

“I’ll be keeping this one,” Riley said, referring to the prisoner.

“You may have him.”

Riley pointed to his cuffs, but before he could telekinetically break them free they disconnected and flew into one of the KoQ’s open hands. The Jartool pulled his thick arms around in front of him and massaged his wrists, as well a spot on his upper right arm that Riley could see with his Pefbar that contained a bruise over a cracked bone.

“We will be available should you require our assistance,” the other KoQ said as the pair turned around and headed back to the airlock, leaving Riley with Emon.

Riley guessed they didn’t know what system the base was in, but it wasn’t going to be hard for them to follow his command ship when he went after them. Their information retrieval methods might be formidable, but there was no way a machine could navigate a mind like he could, and he was fairly sure the KoQ knew that as well, which was why they’d brought this one to him rather than just disposing of him when they were finished like they had with several other Jartool when this one had been captured.

It seemed the Preserve was filled with unscrupulous factions that would be just as eager to help you as stab you in the back depending on the circumstances. At least for the moment the Uriti didn’t seem to be in that group, and Riley was starting to get a feel for how to talk to them, picking up on which subjects would get a response and which wouldn’t. Yet in some ways he still felt he understood them less than the KoQ, whose minds didn’t register to his telepathy at all.

When they were gone he looked at the Jartool, knowing he didn’t speak much English, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t communicate with him.

“Come with me,” he said, sending the appropriate mental impetus to bypass the language barrier along with a wave of his hand. Emon followed him and the trailblazer led him out of the reception area and through the ship. The Jartool looked around oddly, with Riley watching his thoughts and fears continuously as he gave him complete freedom of movement. He could take control of his mind at will, but unless the alien chose to do some harm there was no reason to keep him restrained.

As they walked through the corridors a crewer ran up to Riley and handed him a device he’d telepathically requested. He palmed it and kept walking, eventually coming to a set of quarters. He led Emon inside and closed the door behind them, with the Jartool fearing that another beating was coming his way.

“Translator,” Riley said, holding it up in front of him before carefully attaching it to the side of Emon’s head over the small crater that served as an ear. The headband wrapped around in a tiny ring to keep it on, making it appear a bit ornate, and the gold coloration seemed to fit with his silver skin appropriately enough, though Riley wasn’t concerned about appearance, only function.

“Can you understand me now?” Riley asked, checking to make sure the language download had been the correct one and if their limited files on the Jartool were enough to facilitate communication, for there was more than just simple switching of words involved in accurate translation.

“Yes.”

“I saw into your mind earlier. I know what you are planning, and I saw some of what the Knights of Quenar did to you. You do not have to worry about that kind of treatment here. We do not torture prisoners.”

“What do you want from me?” the device said overtop his own words with a slight delay.

“Not much. You’ll wait here until we arrange transport, then you’re going back to your people.”

“The people on my ship are all dead.”

“We don’t control the Knights of Quenar any more than we control you. Your fight with them is your own. They gave you to me to do with as I please, and I’m letting you go. Whether or not you come to understand it, we’re not the bad guys. We’re not going to use the Uriti as weapons against any of you. We’re going to keep them right here safe and sound, but we can’t do that if you keep attacking them. Sooner or later you might actually hurt one.”

“Yet you maintain the option of changing that position.”

“True enough, but we won’t. You can’t know that, but I do. All we can do to convince you is by building up a record of behavior for you to analyze, and given the length of time the Uriti have been around we’re very short on years to do that. Ultimately though, we don’t take orders from you and we’re going to do what we like. If you interfere with us, expect there to be repercussions. For starters, the Jartool are no longer welcome in this Preserve or Star Force territory. Same goes for the other races working with you. You will leave and stay out…else you’ll be dealt with, either by us or our allies. And as you already know, the Knights of Quenar are not concerned with your wellbeing. Only the security of the Uriti.”

“So you use them to enforce while you remain blameless?”

“They’re not taking orders from us, or vice versa, but they are a threat you have to take into consideration, even if we kicked them out of the Preserve too. With their cloaking technology they can come and go at will with few of us being able to detect them. And then you’ve got us to deal with. While we are honorable, we are not soft. Hopefully that’s not something you have to personally learn the hard way, though those at your base are going to get a lesson in reality. If they refuse to surrender there is going to be a fight, and one that we will win.”

“There are many that oppose you. Do not think it will be that easy. And do not think that having the Knights of Quenar as an ally is that great of an advantage. Their presence here adds fire to many races they have crossed.”

Riley sighed. “I wondered about that.”

“Do not expect people to not try and find a way to protect themselves against the Uriti. Asking them to remain helpless is not a request that will be honored.”

“That I can understand, but I can’t let you keep experimenting by attacking them either. And getting your own people killed in the process is…wrong.”

“They were not my people.”

“We care about all people, including the Uriti.”

The Jartool’s face screwed up in either disgust or disbelief. “They are weapons, not people.”

“They are people, albeit it very strange and powerful, but people who have been altered into weapons by the Chixzon. We are rescuing them from the fate of being living weapons as much as we are doing this to protect the galaxy from them, which is why we will not permit you or anyone else to attack them.”

“You haven’t stopped anyone yet.”

“We’ve stopped a few, and a few got through. Those that get through have repercussions, and a lot of races are getting banned because of this. We’ll deal with the fallout from that as it happens, but we’re not going to keep people around here that are knowingly trying to stab us in the back.”

“Then we are at an impasse, because the races assembled here cannot allow you to continue on your present course.”

“For curiosity’s sake, what would you prefer happened? Shared control? The Uriti released to go on a rampage? You all get a free shot at them and die trying to kill one of them?”

“They have to be killed or rendered inert once again.”

“That’s what you were doing,” he said as another Jartool memory strand clicked in. “Trying to find a way to neutralize them.”

“Dead is preferred, but we must have some way to defend ourselves.”

“The Ancients never found a way to effectively kill them. What makes you think you will?”

“We have to try.”

“No, you don’t. Not until one breaks free of our control and leaves this Preserve. It’ll take a very long time to travel to your worlds. Ours are the ones that are at greatest risk if we lose control.”

“You can carry them elsewhere at far greater speed.”

“We don’t have that much control over them. The sedate ones we brought here were kept sedate for that very reason.”

“A problem that you may overcome with time.”

“You still think they’re too powerful to risk anyone having control over?”

“We do.”

Riley nodded. “If our situations were reversed, we’d be concerned too. But I can guarantee we wouldn’t be running suicide missions to do weapons testing.”

“You would still try to find a counter to them?”

“Yeah, we would.”

“So it is our methods you disagree with?”

“If you ever possess a weapon to kill Uriti, we’re not going to come and take it away from you…unless you come here and use it first. As I said, we’re not going to use them as weapons, so what defenses you have against them aren’t our concern unless you bring them into the Preserve.”

“We cannot develop them if we cannot test them.”

Riley caught a whiff of another thought, and the Jartool reflexively pushed it down as soon as he thought it. The stupidity of that was obvious, but he couldn’t help it, for ostensibly the KoQ or Riley had already plucked out all his secrets, but in truth this was something Riley hadn’t seen before.

The trailblazer chose to visibly ignore it, but inside him was a growing pit of fury.

“None the less, you will not be permitted to. Abide by our restrictions or not. We deal fairly. The Knights of Quenar are another matter. Cross them at your own peril.”

“I already have.”

“And we will not be adding to that. Remain in this room until otherwise instructed. Food and other necessities will be provided until you depart,” Riley said, spinning around and heading for the door.

“Thank you,” Emon said reluctantly.

Riley half turned back. “We don’t torture prisoners. Ever.”

“But you are releasing me?”

“There’s no need to hold you,” he said as he opened the door and walked out, looking at the Knight that had been waiting there per instructions. When the door closed he looked up at him.

“He doesn’t leave, but be nice about it. Our ‘allies’ worked him over pretty good and I don’t want to add to it.”

“The Knights of Quenar?”

“Yeah. On your list of potential good guys, scratch them off.”

“Add to the enemy list?” the Knight asked with a grim resolve.

“Not yet, but they may get there eventually,” he said, tapping the man on his armored shoulder as he walked away.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said when he eventually met up with Nefron in his private work area.

“We’ve got several. Which are you referring to?”

“Well, I’m taking this ship and calling for a fleet to help take out a base the opposition has quietly hidden inside our territory not far from here, but that’s not the real problem. I caught a bit of memory from the prisoner the Knights of Quenar gifted me. They’re intent on finding a way, any way, to stop a Uriti. Including creating their own Chixzon.”

Nefron’s eyes burnt green. “How do they know?”

“My guess would be a leak from one of The Nine, but right now that doesn’t matter. They’re going to go Protovic hunting, and I’m pretty damn sure there are plenty of them out there to find that we and our allies haven’t got to yet. Assuming they can trigger the transformation, how helpful would your twin brother be?”

“You should know the answer to that. The risk is of forced memory retrieval.”

“Will they be able to control a Uriti if he isn’t willing?”

“Unlikely, but as you now know there is a way to do it. If they got hold of one of our gauntlets and reverse engineered it along with captured memories…we have a problem I did not previously anticipate. It is imperative that we don’t lose one.”

“And?” Riley asked, sensing something more in Nefron’s thoughts.

“You could read my mind, thus prevent me from any obvious duplicity. Had that not been the case I could have manipulated you into doing my will. If they create a Chixzon, they could unwittingly unleash them on the galaxy once again. I’ve anticipated that happening eventually, but I need more time.”

“Time for what?”

“To get Star Force to a level where we can beat them.”

Riley frowned. “What exactly are you working on?”

“A lot of things, and I’m a lot less worried about your coreward threat than I am the revival of the Chixzon. For all we know it could have happened already in another part of the galaxy.”

“What exactly are you working on?”

“Immunities…to a lot of their standard tricks. They can’t use the Uriti again, not against us, so their attack will have to come in another way. A subtle way. You’re set up to fight against naval fleets, not biology.”

“We have regenerators.”

Nefron shook his rock-like head. “They work off of your genetic profile, repairing it per instructions that can be altered. Change your genetics to something self-destructive and the regenerators are useless, correct?”

“Yeah,” Riley said reluctantly.

“Which is why you need me to out think them, and I need as much of a head start as I can get.”

9

November 19, 3337

Entor System (ADZ)

Arbiter (Clan Sangheili capitol)

Paul walked with Jason through the main plaza of the capitol city, getting the distinctive feel of Star Force infrastructure but with a telltale Clan slant. The Sangheili color scheme was white/chrome, which wasn’t all that different from Star Force norms, but where it was a base in other facilities spread across the ADZ it was much more flamboyant here. A sterile flamboyance, with everything looking as if dust and grime could not exist, coupled with a lot of light coming from objects within the plaza rather than the walls, ceiling, or floor as most Star Force facilities were.

It was odd, for as much time as Paul and Jason had spent together over the years he’d rarely visited one of his worlds, and vice versa. They usually met up onboard ships in war zones or at Earth. Paul had only been here once before, and that was only in orbit. He was definitely sure he’d never seen the giant statue of the original Arbiter from Halo in the center of the plaza. A lot of the illumination for the mile wide indoor/outdoor chamber was coming from the pair of covenant energy swords that it held in a combat pose that well represented his friend’s Clan.

When they walked near the giant feet Jason motioned for him to get closer, at which time Paul realized there was an internal structure to the statue…as well as the faint traces of familiar minds at the top.

“You didn’t.”

“Of course I did,” Jason scoffed as he and Paul ducked in the secret access door and began to climb a ladder that would take them several stories up to the top where the private den was located. Paul followed him up, making him the last of the ten 2s in the small but cozy retreat.

“About time you two got here,” Megan said from the couch where she was laying with her feet well above her head. “How slow did you walk?”

“Nice view,” Paul commented, seeing that the walls were clear all around them, similar to the way Davis’s office was structured, except that this was one-way material. Nobody could see in from the outside, but they could see everywhere in the plaza all the way up to the dome that covered it in holographic sky. The air outside was barely breathable, hence a true exterior structure just wouldn’t work here. Plus no one wanted rain, acid or otherwise.

“Time to get brainstorming,” Brian said, putting down a datapad he’d been reading.

“Not just yet,” Randy said, throwing Paul an annoyed look that the other trailblazer responded to with a knowing smile. “First we have to get in the proper frame of mind.”

“He’s right,” Emily said, pointing in Megan’s direction. “Everybody get your butt on the couches. We’ve got some Halo to play first.”

Morgan was in her personal sanctum working against robotic opponents the size of mechs when the alert sounded. She ducked out of the way of a massive metal hand and telepathically shut down the challenge, pulling a brief feed through the same mental interlink set into the walls and ceiling. It was a defensive alert, stating that the system was under attack by the lizards. More information than that she couldn’t get without a terminal interface or a physical connection to the planetary computer systems.

The ViLord sprinted across the acres of training area and telekinetically pulled her jacket top to her from the spot on the floor near the door where she’d left it. As she ran out she pulled it on over her sweaty jog bra and zipped it halfway up to her neck, leaving a slit to help her cool down from her workout fury that she developed when probing her limits.

It took several minutes to get out of her sanctum and over to the command center, with her bypassing the Clan Ninja Monkey staff and going straight to her command chair-style nexus set in the middle of the giant room rather than tucked off into a side nook. When she sat down force fields rose around her to quiet but not completely negate surrounding sounds while also dimming the light. Others could see and hear her, but her chair zone was faded out a bit to give her some privacy while in the crowded room. Her staff fed her updates and already compiled reports through the mental interlink, getting her up to speed faster than talking would have ever allowed.

She was on her capitol of Sliced Banana in the DK System, the strongest system she had in her 39 system empire on the border with the coreward lizards. Morgan had been growing her territory steadily, but not aggressively. Taking time to develop her Clan’s population without having to accept slackers. When she decided to take a world the lizards couldn’t hold it against her, but they did try some probing attacks on the periphery of her stretched out knot of systems on occasion. More often than not they were just fortifying the nearest ones because they knew she’d be coming after them.

While she didn’t take systems all that often, Morgan raided them all the time. Knocking down their ship counts and industrial facilities, hampering their ability to grow while giving her people more experience to learn from. Gone were the days where Clan Ninja Monkey and the lizards were going at each other in an even fight. She’d had the advantage for so long now it hadn’t even dawned on her that they’d be stupid enough to mount a straight up attack against any of her systems…let alone her capitol, but here they were, in far greater numbers than could have originated in the surrounding systems.

They’d brought in reinforcements from another region, and while it wasn’t enough to take this system from her, it was still going to be a messy fight.

“About time you guys got off your ass and took us seriously,” she whispered as she mentally linked into the orbit defenses and began rearranging things to her liking based on the enemy fleet disposition. They were being harassed in near the star and she was getting delayed reports, but all of them indicated that they were heading here. The lizards probably expected to lose this fleet to her, but they were going to send it at her strongest defenses and see if they could give her a bloody nose.

With a flurry of orders she got her planet geared up for battle and aware of the lizards’ probable suicidal intentions, then watched as her people harassed and picked off ships from the formation flanks as they moved around the star to the jumpline for her capitol, as expected. When they finally got into planetary orbit Morgan was ready for them, with all hell unleashing when they unceremoniously dove down into the low orbit defenses and attacked them and her primary shipyard for all they were worth.

When Davis got the attack report it set him back, not because of the fact that it had happened, but because of the sheer audacity of it. Here they were, sweeping up lizard systems in the rimward half of lizard territory, and their enemy had the gall to launch a major attack against Star Force territory. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it finally dawned on him that the lizards had completely abandoned their rimward worlds.

They were just expendable now, and had been expended to keep Star Force busy while the lizards built behind the line where they had to now at least suspect he wouldn’t cross. It was a glaring weakness for anyone who saw it. The mighty empire afraid to go any further towards the core.

And he got the distinct feeling that the lizards were now sufficiently rebuilt enough to call his bluff.

Four days ago he’d received a report from Clan RaSeru that they’d also been attacked, though not in these numbers. It’d been a strong hit against one of their outer colonies, but the lizards had gone straight for Morgan’s capitol and her primary shipyards…which they’d managed to damage considerably. They weren’t out of commission, and the Ninja Monkeys had destroyed the entire invading fleet, but Davis got the feeling that there was going to be a lot more attacks coming their way to probe their lines and see how Star Force would respond.

But what could he do? The further they went toward the core the closer they got to the V’kit’no’sat, and as it was they weren’t exactly hiding. Star Force stood out in the local region and wasn’t silent about most things…then add in the now infamy of housing the Uriti and they were practically waving their arms and shouting at the V’kit’no’sat to come and get them. Their only saving grace was they were so far away they couldn’t hear or see, but the closer Davis reached into the core the greater the chance of that changing.

The galaxy was just too damn big, and he had a hard time as it was trying to control everything that Star Force had more or less exercised domain over. A lot of it was unoccupied or unaligned worlds that he’d chosen to shield from the lizards, and it needed reinforcing…a lot of reinforcing, so it wasn’t like Star Force was just sitting and watching the lizards conquer a piece of the galaxy.

Yet the idea of having a line over which the bad guys could operate with impunity was morally unacceptable, which was why he had allowed Morgan and others to blur that line, but the lizards were now onto his game, at least partially, and he was pretty sure they were now taunting him to come after them.

He had the manpower to do it. Even before the rimward front was wrapped up he could mount a major campaign and drive a knife into the ‘safe’ lizard territory. Part of him wanted to, but he knew it would be fruitless in terms of stopping them permanently. They could just keep spreading further and further coreward, and if Star Force was going to stop heading that direction it might as well be here and now. Davis just hated not being able to go after his enemies when they were at his fingertips.

That was the Archon in him, but the geography of the situation spoke for itself. Star Force was expanding in 5 directions, not 6, and was already tickling the upper and lower edges of the galactic plane. It was obvious to anyone with access to an even remotely accurate map with time scaling to see that Star Force wasn’t moving in towards the core like they once were, and that begged the question of why.

Davis wasn’t going to tell the public the real reason, and while Star Force troops were concentrating their efforts rimward not too many people questioned the coreward border. Fighting a war in multiple directions was difficult, so consolidating one’s strength and hitting a ‘smaller’ area, laughable as that was with the scope involved, made sense. Then add the various entrepreneurs that were fighting on the coreward border making it seem as volatile as anywhere and Star Force didn’t have an internal problem with questions as of yet, but to outsiders it had to scream that there was some reason why they wouldn’t keep pushing further into enemy territory.

What Davis was trying to do by establishing the wall was monumentous…securing so many system in an effective manner and essentially shielding everyone rimward from the lizards’ expansion was not something that anyone could argue was inaction on Star Force’s part, but it still begged the question of why the line instead of going after them wherever they showed their scaly heads.

This was the Achilles heel to Star Force’s strategy, and it was just something that Davis was going to have to live with. Establishing the line and holding it firm would save uncountable numbers of lives, but having the enemy that close and not going after them just felt wrong. He kept constantly rechecking his logic for fear of making a bad choice, but each and every time it always came back to the same thing.

Star Force couldn’t risk revealing themselves to the V’kit’no’sat any further. If they came back then everything they had fought and gained against the lizards would be undone. Hell, they might even reclaim their previous territory if Star Force was wiped out or forced to retreat, because Davis knew the V’kit’no’sat weren’t going to stick around and colonize the ‘frontier’ as they thought of it.

So the only way this would work was if Davis bit his lip and focused on holding the line and eradicating the lizard threat on this side of it. He’d relegated himself to that task previously, but now this obvious taunting by the lizards was making him reconsider yet again.

He’d discussed this with the trailblazers numerous times and they didn’t have any better options. They didn’t like it either, but Star Force had to mark its territory somewhere and pushing the line any further coreward didn’t make any strategic sense. It wouldn’t end the threat, so the only reasonable thing to do if you couldn’t get to all the lizards was to block off a section of territory and keep them out of it…and Davis had chosen the entire outer rim. That should have satisfied him, but it didn’t. He needed to do more, but think through it again as he would, he’d end up with the same inevitable conclusion.

They couldn’t keep pushing coreward.

And if they couldn’t do that, and the lizards suspected it, what were they trying to accomplish with these attacks? It was a goad, obviously, but to what end?

He thought about that for a while as he skimmed through the reports a second time, trying to glean their intent, then a possibility struck him. If they didn’t actually intend to mount a campaign against Star Force that they thought could succeed…and without the Trinx supplying them with tech their long term plans to do so had already bitten the dust…then they were probing for a reaction.

A reaction to see if Star Force really would stay behind the line. These attacks were a test of it.

And they’d keep coming. They had enough troops and ships that they could waste them when they chose to, and he had a feeling they were going to keep throwing more and more troops at Star Force’s defenses, looking for a weakness they didn’t expect to find while trying to provoke him to jump the border and go after them.

And that told Davis one thing. They didn’t want Star Force to.

If you’re afraid of the dog biting you, you don’t stay away from him. You get your hand near then pull back. If he doesn’t bite, you get it nearer and nearer and nearer, testing to see if he really won’t bite. If he never does then you can relax around him, and in the case of the lizards that meant…

“The Skarrons,” he said aloud as he jumped up out of his chair and began pacing the perimeter of his office.

Of course. It was so obvious now. The lizards knew they couldn’t beat Star Force, especially without the Trinx, and ever since they’d evacuated their templars into the coreward half of their empire they’d probably stopped planning to fight. They needed to survive and expand, conquering weaker opponents and growing their strength. They’d done that while fighting the Skarrons, but as Star Force had learned they’d only been focusing on one region within the Skarron empire and exploiting a political rift within them. So long as they didn’t go after any of the other regions the Skarrons seemed fit to let the one under attack fend for itself.

But the lizards were only going to play that game for so long. Davis was almost sure that they were about to take on the whole of the Skarron empire in a very grim and bitter war that they might well lose if Star Force decided to hit them at the same time, hence they needed to know whether or not that would happen.

“So you hit us now to see if we’ll attack. If we don’t come after you you’ll keep it up. Keep probing and taunting and waiting for us to break with protocol. If we don’t you’ll maintain the ruse while you launch your full strength against the Skarrons, leaving your industrial muscle vulnerable to us should we strike. You’re bluffing again, and damn you, it’s a bluff I can’t risk to call,” he said, punching the window with a warbling thud as the safety glass bent ever so slightly.

Star Force couldn’t go after the lizards, but the Preema could and had been doing so effectively until they’d chickened out and decided to mount their own line of defense. The Voku also could but had priorities dictated to them by the Zak’de’ron and had plenty on their plate already. Star Force was the dominate power in the region, and the downside of that was that there wasn’t anyone of equal or greater strength to turn to in order to get the job done…meaning the lizards were going to operate with impunity and could shift most of their assets to the Skarron front without reprisal.

For centuries Star Force had been winning and winning big against the lizards as they took system after system away from them, but in the bigger picture Davis felt like they were actually losing, and all because of a distant threat that may or may not take notice of them staying their hand and forcing Davis to let the lizards go so long as they stayed on the other side of that stupid line.

There was no way around that logic, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t spend hours upon hours in the future thinking about it and trying to find a solution that was currently escaping him and the rest of Star Force’s leaders from trailblazers to monarchs. No one knew a way to go after the lizards without potentially exposing themselves to the V’kit’no’sat, and until they found one their hated enemy was going to be able to play on the other side of the line without interference, waving and taunting back at them as much as they liked.

For Davis and Star Force couldn’t go there, and no one else who was willing was powerful enough, and those powerful enough simply weren’t willing to take the fight to the enemy if they didn’t absolutely have to.

10

December 23, 3337

Entor System (ADZ)

Arbiter (Clan Sangheili capitol)

“Oh my god,” Emily said, bolting out of her chair in their secret den inside the stature. “We are so fucking stupid.”

“Oh?” Jack asked.

“‘Oh shit’ is more like it. We’ve been going at this all wrong.”

“Enlighten us,” Jason prompted as the 9 trailblazers all turned from their individual projects and looked at their standing, and somewhat flustered, peer.

“Canderous. Why the hell didn’t any of us see this before?”

“You want to integrate them into Canderous?” Paul asked as he thought that through.

“No, Silly. Think. What’s notorious about Canderous?”

“The most difficult maturias,” Randy said automatically.

Emily pointed at him. “Exactly. We didn’t think we could push younglings any harder than that, and Canderous has the largest dropout rate of any faction. They lose like, what, 15% of their population to emigration after graduation?”

“Thirteen,” Paul corrected. “What are you getting at?”

“We didn’t think we could press anyone harder than that. That we had to let people develop at a slow rate and while some might be able to go faster we couldn’t sacrifice anyone by pushing the group too hard. Allow individuals a chance to excel beyond their peers, yes, but not as a group. Canderous is the hardest maturia group we’ve been able to successfully create, and I think we’re all in agreement that we can’t push the line any more with them?”

“They’ve pulled back a bit in spots,” Ivan added. “If there’s improvement to be made there it’s in refinements, not a toughening of the program.”

“Bingo,” Emily said as if the word was a weapon. “Right there. That’s what we’ve all been missing. We can’t go past that line without the risk of damaging those we’re trying to train. We’ve maxed out and, frankly, have given up on younglings being much use in anything. We all know that longevity and consistent training is required to gain true strength, so getting the younglings off on the proper path is what matters, not the speed of that path. Canderous pushes the speed to its limit and has it fairly well defined, so we’ve completely ignored trying to surpass it.”

“Genetic memory,” Randy said, catching an inkling of what she was getting at.

“We don’t use it because it’s not the Star Force way…and yet all of us have genetic memory. We just haven’t fiddled with what we started with. Our psionics operate on genetic memory, a little bit anyway, so that we can use them right away, and they’re not natural. So why haven’t we messed with giving people knowledge from birth?”

“Knowledge given and knowledge gained are not the same thing,” Paul said thoughtfully.

“People need to learn some things for themself,” Jason echoed.

“And that’s exactly where we’ve been blind. Yes, people need to learn for themselves, but do they all have to have the same starting point?”

“Emily, you’re a freaking genius,” Dan said, standing up as well as soon as it clicked for him.

“If I was I would have figured this out a month ago.”

“Emily,” Paul said slowly. “I’m still not fully getting you.”

“Probably because you’re too close to the problem.”

“Then lay it out for me.”

Emily raised a hand towards Paul as she suddenly lifted him into the air out of his chair with her Lachka. He didn’t flash his Rentar, not sure what she was doing, but then her hand produced a Jumat blast that knocked him over the back of the chair as she let go of her hold, dumping him onto the floor.

When he caught himself and started to get up she came flying into view and punched him to the ground, then the two wrestled around a bit until Paul as able to throw her off him. She skidded to a halt on the carpet a meter away but didn’t reengage, merely raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m assuming that wasn’t a love tap?” Paul scoffed as he locked eyes with her, ready to defend himself a second time if need be.

“The Black Knight,” she said, giving him another clue.

“Enough, you two,” Megan said as she flipped over the back of the couch and interposed herself between them. “Get a room.”

“Damn it,” Jason said, finally getting it. “You are a genius.”

“Guys…” Paul complained, standing up off the ground along with Emily as Megan kept them both at arms’ length.

“We don’t choose where we’re born,” Dan said. “We’re inserted randomly into this universe. The maturia process is the safe way to help those just arriving develop, but we all know from experience that the Black Knight taught us some very important lessons in a very unsafe way. Sometimes people need to be thrown in over their heads in order to learn how to swim, but we don’t do that because some people might drown. Yet that’s what we got in basic.”

“Yeah, we just had the regenerators handy to patch us up whenever he broke something,” Brian added.

“More than that, we weren’t given instructions about what to do with him. We just had to do it. Keep up or get our ass kicked. We learned to succeed and persevere because we were put into a very pressure-filled environment and rose to the challenge. If you want to be Archons that’s what you have to endure, but that won’t work for civies. They’ll break. And basic occurs after the maturia training.”

“The Clans,” Megan said, also catching on.

“Pressure cookers,” Emily finally explained, but still looking at Paul. “People measure up or get kicked out, which is why we have no maturias. Everyone is recruited in…but that’s not the way it has to be.”

“Learn by doing rather than training,” Paul said, finally getting the gist of Emily’s physical lesson. She didn’t tell him to defend himself, he simply saw the need and responded. No instructions, just adaptation.

And adaptation is what the lizards were exceedingly good at.

He looked at her sarcastically. “Can I kiss you?”

Emily pointed at him and Megan backed off with her hands raised, getting out of the way.

“I’m calling your bluff on that one, buddy,” Emily said as she walked over to Paul and gripped his head in her hands and laid a not so short full kiss on him before backing off a step. “You’re welcome.”

“Ok,” Jason said with a clap of his hands. “Are we all caught up then, Luke and Leia included?”

“He’ll take that as a compliment,” Megan scoffed.

“Win, win,” Paul said with a lingering smile as he looked at Emily, “though Riona kisses better.”

“Hey, hey,” Megan said, stepping back between them as Emily took a step towards him with a balled fist. “Enough already.”

“Ingrate,” Emily said, abandoning her approach and taking a seat on the back of the nearest couch.

“Let’s just spell this out so we know we’re all on the same page,” Brian insisted. “Emily, you want to incorporate the lizards into the Clans as their birth entry point and have them opt out rather than in?”

“Yep,” she answered pithily.

“They can handle the pressure cooker,” Randy continued thoughtfully, “where the other races cannot, because of their genetic memory. They can be put to work instantly with no training and learn by doing.”

“Are we seriously suggesting no training?” Jack asked, “because that’s pretty much treason right there.”

“And that’s why I didn’t think of it,” Paul admitted. “We didn’t learn to survive and beat the Black Knight with training, we learned and adapted through combat. I think Morgan would appreciate this approach.”

“Uh, uh,” Ivan said quickly. “This is our baby. Our 10 Clans. Leave Morgan’s out of it.”

“We’ve got a shit load of work to do on this,” Randy added in agreement. “Even if we wanted to share it with the other Clans we need to do the tinkering ourselves.”

“All 10 Clans?” Jason asked, seeing nods of agreement.

“Not just the Clans,” Kip said, a few mental steps ahead of the others thanks to him staying out of the playful banter and thinking hard. “The 10 of us. We drop our current assignments and focus this hard…together. Paul’s getting more and more lizard prisoners as the years go by and that’s only going to increase as we clean up the remaining systems on this side of the line, and I’d prefer to get as many of them surrendering as possible. We need a program to put them into rather than just stuffing them away on a few planets for holding purposes.”

“He’s right,” Emily agreed. “This is too big to leave dangling. Paul’s already got some leg work done, but we need to kick this into high gear.”

“Clan lizards would be new births, not converts,” Paul pointed out. “I’ve got the two separated right now, but this idea won’t help the prisoners.”

“You can’t teach everything with memory,” Kip reminded them all. “You’re going to get capable younglings, nothing more. In order for them to advance to higher levels they’re going to have to train. We can have the current lizards go through that training as well.”

“Are we talking combat for these guys?” Ivan asked.

“Support?” Megan floated.

“Have you put any of them into armor yet?” Brian asked Paul.

“No, but Thrawn has been developing some of their own. I haven’t let them use Star Force tech at all.”

“Afraid of them spiriting it off to their cousins?” Randy asked.

“Afraid of a lot of things, but mainly just wanting to keep them separate from us.”

“Why?” Dan challenged. “We assimilated the Veliquesh. The lizards aren’t any worse than them.”

“They had younglings,” Jason answered for him. “The lizards use genetic samples. There was never any need to conquer the lizards in order to assimilate them.”

“If we do this,” Kip said thoughtfully, “it will gain us a power we’ve never had before. The Kiritas gave us so much strength, but they still rely on maturias to reproduce. The lizards don’t. There are dozens of ways we can use this, but I think the bigger reason to do it, the emotional one at least, is…”

“…to prove them wrong,” Megan said with finality. “The lizards don’t have to be darkside. We can bring them into the light.”

“So we are annexing them?” Jack asked to make sure.

“Star Force isn’t,” Emily said with a coy smile. “The Clans are.”

“And to maintain our pressure cooker,” Kip added, “when they’re born we put them to work immediately. In fact, we don’t grow any of them without a specific need. Population on demand.”

“That could go very wrong,” Randy noted, “if anyone other than us was overseeing it. But looking at it as an entry point, we create the lizards out of a need and they individually choose whether or not to fulfill that role. If they decline we move them out of the Clans and into Axius or elsewhere, respecting their individual sovereignty, but the default will be to the mission. Team and unit first. You said they wanted to fight,” he recalled, looking at Paul. “That stagnation was a problem for them. This will alleviate that if we stop treating them like everyone else and make a new niche within Star Force that doesn’t utilize maturias or an individual first concept. It’ll be unit first with an individual opt out.”

Jack nodded, holding up a finger to keep Paul from answering first. “How many people have we met that just wanted to contribute? Whether it be fighting or building or just carrying someone’s bag. We tell them training first and they do it, taking years if not centuries before they really get into the fight. They have to earn their way to it, and I like that system, but if we had been born now and not given everything to do from the inception of Star Force, how would we feel?”

“We’d want to be on the front lines immediately,” Dan admitted, “doing things that mattered rather than training.”

“And if the lizards are even more prone to this mindset than we are,” Jack continued, “then perhaps it is in their best interests if we put them to work immediately and allow the few individuals who would prefer something else to leave to seek it out rather than trapping the lot of them in a workable system that really isn’t suited to them.”

“It’s what we thought Canderous would be back in the day,” Emily added, “and could never achieve.”

“But how do we incorporate younglings into combat units?” Randy pointed out the obvious flaw. “Work details are one thing, but if they really want to fight how much can we have them do without losing people. We can’t let the bloodbath tactics remain.”

“Agreed,” Kip echoed.

“I’ve already been working on that a bit,” Paul said, very glad that Jason had insisted on making this a group project, “and I think recon work would best be suited to that aspect, though training certain lizards in the traditional ways needs to happen. They can’t get strong enough on field work alone.”

“Elite units,” Randy said dismissively, “but the strength for the Clans here is going to be their ability to take a single ship to a distant planet and populate it with millions of effective workers and soldiers within a decade. Even the Kiritas can’t reproduce trained people that fast.”

“Let them fight the little threats,” Megan suggested. “We’ll handle the big ones.”

“What’s your greatest concern?” Kip asked Paul when he noted a slightly displeased look on his face.

“Scruples,” he answered immediately.

“Because of the genetic memory?”

“And the unit mentality. If one goes to the darkside, will the lemmings follow?”

Randy nodded. “You really should have called me in sooner. I’ve already dealt with a lot of this with the Kiritas.”

“And?”

“Archons lead for a reason, and amongst other things, it’s to be the torch bearers of civilization. It’s easier for others to do the right thing when they have someone to follow. Take the Archons away from the other factions and you would see a deleterious effect on them as well. The trick is, they’re established enough now that our influence would continue to linger even if we were all suddenly gone. And with so little population turnover now, in the upper levels anyway, the lessons we’ve taught and the examples we’ve made will stick with them throughout their lifetimes.”

“Longevity is our insurance policy?” Megan asked.

“Followers follow,” Randy said with a shrug. “Get them in the habit of doing the right thing and they’ll keep doing it until they’re dragged off another direction. Usually it’s the younglings that have no prior history that are the most affected. If we give the lizards the leadership of the Archons they will follow us, pattern after us, learn from us, and pass it on to others even when we are not there. We’ll have to counter various things, just like we have in all factions. The attrition of morals occurs everywhere the light doesn’t shine, but get enough people to soak it in and they’ll be able to sustain themselves through brief periods of darkness.”

“Moral glow rods?” Emily asked with a chuckle.

“Temporarily charged,” Randy added unabashed. The metaphor was sound.

“Charged off the beacons of light,” Kip said with a nod. “And given the lizards’ group nature, if we can convert them they might hold to it better than others would.”

“But they’ll be a hard sell,” Jason cautioned. “Those surrendering especially.”

“You think we didn’t have a hard time with the Kiritas?” Randy asked. “We won’t have to worry about people starving to death this time. Try teaching people to do the right thing when they need to steal, cheat, and kill just to try and stay alive.”

“I think we can all agree,” Emily said, raising her arms to encompass everyone, “that Paul was an idiot for not including us earlier.”

“I can second that,” Jason said, drawing a sigh of regret from Paul.

“But he has created a good foothold for us to work off of,” Emily added. “Him turning Thrawn is what started all this, and his little projects since then are showing good, piecemeal results. That said, this is not going to be an easy or quick fix. We’re probably going to have to tinker with the variants, maybe even make some new ones, and solve a lot of problems that haven’t even been discovered yet. But we’re a team and we work best as one. This is a very big challenge and one worthy of our combined skills, so let’s dig into this and make it happen before we run out of lizards to recruit. Every one of them we save is a victory for us.”

“I’m more interested in the potential of the new ones,” Kip differed, “but you make a good point. There are multiple levels here to consider, which is why we need all of us working and managing this. We’re also going to need a lot of star systems.”

“Where are we going to work this from?” Jack asked.

“Heart of the storm,” Megan said. “Krachnika.”

Jason nodded. “We’ll need more than that, but that’s where we need to start setting up shop.”

“Time to start packing,” Dan said, heading for the exit with Ivan and Randy following a step behind.

“I’ll handle Davis,” Emily volunteered, referring to the need for more star systems.

“You going to kiss him too?” Megan jibbed.

Emily glared at her, but before she could respond Paul walked up behind her and wrapped her up in a hug, then gently kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanks,” he whispered in her ear.

“You really should have told us about this before,” she said, not struggling against his embrace.

“Yeah, I know, but we are keeping this secret from the other Clans, right?”

“Totally,” Megan agreed as she and the others started to head for the door too.

“No reason they need to know until we get something worked out,” Emily answered as Paul let her go, “but amongst us we don’t need to keep secrets.”

“On that note,” Paul said with a devious smile, “has Jason told you about his…”

“Hey!” he objected, turning around just as he got to the door and glaring at Paul. “Not cool.”

“His what?” Emily insisted, with Randy and Megan turning around as well.

Reclamation

1

May 19, 3402

Denichor System (occupation zone)

Karrach (original H’kar homeworld)

Flynn-046 took in a deep breath of the new world’s air, soaking it in for a moment before he took off running across the stubby grass clumps that covered the flat plain he stood upon. He wasn’t wearing armor or even a standard uniform, just a pair of shorts and running shoes in the 103F heat as he began his first workout on this planet…the first of many to come now that he’d been assigned here on a permanent basis.

He’d chosen this plain for the simple reason that it wasn’t located near to any of the reclamation sites, just a barren bit of landscape untouched by either the H’kar or the lizards after they’d conquered their homeworld and rebuilt it into one of the larger fortress worlds rimward of Krachnika. It’d fallen with more effort than the neighboring systems due in no small part to the presence of a mastermind, but he’d been unable to prevent the beatdown that both Star Force and the H’kar fleet had put on it. Now that was all over as the invasion fleets pressed on, leaving this planet and the rest of the system in reclamation mode.

Except now he was here, running across the uncivilized barrens of Karrach and getting a feel for the ‘cool’ atmosphere that the H’kar had developed in as a string of transports could be seen coming down from orbit to a position west of his on the plain. It was miles away, but the flow of ships was continuous as they deposited cargo and personnel that would begin rebuilding the planet.

It was an abnormally important acquisition for the H’kar. They’d been taking their planets back from the lizards for a while now, but none had been reinhabited with more than supply bases. All had stayed in the possession of Star Force as they were gradually cleaned up, until now. Karrach was almost sacred to them, and given the fact that they’d probably thought they’d never see it again, let alone inhabit it, he didn’t fault them for sentimentality, but the rituals they had wanted to perform he’d already nixed. He hadn’t come here to watch them waste time with a bunch of pageantry, but rather to put them to work.

And work they were eager for as well, he’d found out. Reclaiming Karrach wasn’t the end of their goals…they wanted to rebuild it and reestablish their old homeland, this system and others, and fully take back all that the lizards had stolen from them. Flynn was going to help them do that, but not in the way they’d originally thought, for the H’kar, now that Karrach had been reclaimed as promised, were joining Star Force…and they weren’t a broken civilization or a scattering of refugees. They were already a massive empire that was about to get a lot bigger.

Star Force hadn’t made the invite, and the H’kar had hinted at such for a long time before finally making the request after getting approval from The Nexus. There would be no separation pains, for in secret The Nexus were glad to be rid of them, needing to downsize as much as possible and more than happy to let the threats to the region where the H’kar had come to make their new home fall under Star Force’s responsibility to deal with.

But Flynn wasn’t going there, though those worlds would eventually become part of Star Force as well. No, both he and Davis had decided they’d start here and rebuild the H’kar in Star Force form on their homeworld first, get all the adjustments made to incorporate their biology and technology into the empire, then begin seeding other worlds in their former territory with new colonies, followed up by the slow assimilation of their Nexus worlds. Flynn was going to lead the effort, but most of the work was going to be done by the H’kar themselves after Karrach got established. Star Force resources were already stretched across an ever growing empire and there was no rush to annex the H’kar. Things could be taken more slowly, drawing upon their current strength to fuel the transition, but for this first step Star Force had to take the lead.

Which was why there was as large a Star Force fleet in orbit as there was H’kar, with an army of techs ready and eager to build proper infrastructure on the planet to get the ball rolling. After that it would be up to Flynn and his much smaller staff to design what would become standard H’kar infrastructure, ships, food, clothing, etc. It was a long and tedious process, but one that would bear fruit down the road…especially in giving Star Force a strong foothold on the far end of the occupation zone if/when it eventually came to include all lizard systems rimward of the border line. They weren’t near to achieving that yet, but the bulk of systems remaining were medium to small civilizations with only a sprinkling of hard nuts to tackle like this world had been.

The writing was definitely on the wall, there was just a lot of wall to cover as the lizards continued to spread as quickly as they could ahead of the Star Force advance. The H’kar had begun to push back hard from their Nexus border now that the lizards couldn’t pull reinforcements from their core worlds and others to counter them, but each of those fleets was now led by at least one Archon, for their military integration into Star Force had already happened as far as command and control was concerned.

A faction of the H’kar really didn’t like that, but the groundswell of nostalgia and support for both Star Force membership and a return to their original territory left the H’kar rulers with little choice other than to fight a losing civil war. Instead they’d thought they could play an insiders game, but that had been immediately shut down as Scott-055 had assumed command of the active fleets and made the H’kar rulers obsolete.

They’d immediately tried to backtrack from their position, but there was nothing they could do. The military was now fiercely loyal to the Archons who had taught them how to truly fight and were promising to do even more in the years to come. Once command was transferred there was no going back, but Flynn didn’t think they fully understood that the same would be happening for the rest of their civilization. The ruling class within the H’kar was going to be disbanded, and for the foreseeable future Flynn was going to be their leader, much as Larisa had been to the Bsidd and Paul now was to the Kvash, whose small but powerful naval fleet was already assisting in anti-lizard combat with surprising efficiency.

Surprising had they not been under Paul’s tutelage, but their rapid turnaround from being thought extinct to a very powerful, yet very small naval presence had surprised Flynn and most of the other trailblazers. That said, the Kvash wouldn’t be matching the H’kar anytime soon, for Flynn had an existing empire to retool rather than having to build one from scratch, though at first that’s exactly what he was going to do here…save for the fact that he’d be getting continuous supply convoys coming from the H’kar’s Nexus worlds with material and whatever personnel he requested, and that would let him rebuild this world far faster than any other faction leader had the luxury of doing during their stints transforming and adding new races to the empire.

Larissa’s Bsidd now made up the largest chunk of that empire, population wise, while Randy’s Kiritas were a close second. More than half the trailblazers now had a race under their direction, whether they be full blown factions, sub-factions, or wards, and now it was Flynn’s turn…yet somehow he had gotten the biggest one of them all to work with.

But it wouldn’t be the last. In addition to the list of small races requesting membership in Star Force from all around their current borders, there were two other Nexus members that had expressed official interest in pursuing a change in membership and many more rumored to be considering it. When Davis had talked with him about the H’kar he’d stressed the need to have not just a well-established presence in the other end of the occupation zone, but a foothold from which more acquisitions from Nexus territory could be integrated.

In fact, the Director had told him that as the lizard threat was swept away a great many things would be changing and that if they moved quickly and decidedly they could amass a far greater standing in the expanded region…while at the same time if they botched this there would be a lot of interest in claiming the empty worlds left in the lizards’ absence. If Star Force wasn’t proactive in growing their empire others would see it as a weakness and try to move in on them. Maintaining patrols throughout the occupation zone was already a pain in the butt, though nothing compared to what could happen if word got out that Star Force couldn’t hold on to that territory.

There’d be a mad scramble from all the little guys to grab a planet or two, but it would be the larger players moving in and stubbornly staking a claim and making Star Force evict them that had Davis worried. Right now fighting the lizards was the priority, and if someone decided to move in behind them Star Force would have to pull forces away from the frontier to deal with any major threats and that would only allow the lizards to keep expanding to yet more worlds.

Annexing the H’kar had already sent a big message to the region, letting everyone know that Star Force wasn’t just evicting the lizards from their current holdings, but laying firm claim to them. The ADZ was a long way from here, so establishing another major powerbase was essential…and annexing an existing one, from The Nexus no less, had already sent a message that the neighbors were not going to ignore.

Which meant Flynn had some breathing room to work with so long as he didn’t screw this up.

But how events played out would take a long time to unfold. Right now the cargo crates were just being delivered and the small colonies of temporary, prefab structures were being erected to give his people a base to work out of. He’d been transitioning from planet to orbit daily to make use of the Prime’s sanctum and the small Clan Cybertron fleet he had in orbit. He’d be relying on them for security and his home away from home while he oversaw the army of Star Force experts that would be tearing apart the H’kar civilization and making recommendations of how to change it. The final form was left up to Flynn’s discretion, and it was the biggest challenge assigned to him to date…numbers wise, anyway. Compared to fighting the Black Knight though, this would be relatively easy. It’d just affect far more people than his personal training did.

With all that in mind and on his metaphorical shoulders, he’d decided the best thing to do was snub it all and take his time, so while the cargo and personnel transfer was taking place at a rapid pace he was off and running across the empty landscape on a casual workout while his lungs adjusted to the alien air without the filtration his armor helmet normally gave him.

The air wasn’t bad, just had a few additional elements to the oxygen/nitrogen mix, most notably of which was helium. There wasn’t enough to make him talk squeaky, but it did give the air a different taste to it that his lungs could attest to…but really the biggest challenge was the heat that was continually increasing as the day progressed.

It was a mild challenge and one that Flynn embraced as he sweated out what felt like half his body weight on some 15 or so miles crisscrossing the plain before he eventually circled back around to the now larger makeshift colony as yet more structures were popping up in minutes as they were unfolded and assembled by an all Star Force crew that was a mix of Humans, Bsidd, and Kiritak. The structures weren’t much good against weaponsfire, but they’d hold up against the weather and provide quick working and living space for the arriving crews. Everything Star Force built was durable, but there was no substitute for proper infrastructure and he’d have to wait on that for later. Right now he and his team would make do with the ‘Lego’ substitutes.

When Flynn got back he found the nearest water station and gulped down the cool liquid for what felt like minutes before he finally gasped and got his breathing back under control. This planet was harsh to Humans, and he knew the Kiritas wouldn’t fare much better. The Bsidd could handle the heat fairly well, but he was going to need to keep everyone’s external exposure limited to shorter spans than normal. And on top of that, he was going to need to get baselines on the H’kar as well. Just because this was their original homeworld didn’t mean those coming here would immediately acclimate to it. Flynn knew their body chemistry favored higher temperatures, but he needed to know just how high and if they’d have any adverse effects before he started them on exterior work crews.

That was going to put a wrinkle in his plans, but it was just one of thousands of small decisions that needed to be made and why a trailblazer was necessary for this kind of work. He literally held the fate of trillions of people in his hands, even if they weren’t all here. The repercussions of what he did would flow outward through their civilization, with it eventually reaching even the H’kar in the Nexus territories. Right now though he needed to start getting those volunteers coming here trained, and he’d planned to do it with basic work crews led by Star Force vets.

They wouldn’t be doing anything more than moving around supplies and basic Star Force construction and prep, maybe taking over some of the recycling duties immediately, but the point was to get some H’kar indoctrinated into Star Force protocols via field work. Though now he’d have to make an environmental checklist before sending them out there for any extended period of time.

Flynn grabbed a quick shower as he thought through his next twenty steps, then donned a uniform and his ViLord armor before heading back out. He’d already got a bit of a sunburn, but that just gave him a chance to work on his Sesspik skills, though he didn’t want to add to the light damage right now or anytime in the future and those twin suns in the sky pumped a lot of energy down to the planet through the pristine clear skies.

His armor solved that problem, along with keeping him moderately cool despite the heat as he headed back out and roamed the construction sites and improvised landing zones. He found his Kiritas work crew chief and explained the environmental concerns, outlining the testing he wanted to have happen before any of the H’kar were put to work. With their usual efficiency, the Kiritas got to work on it immediately as Flynn continued his rounds and helped some Bsidd with the unloading of a H’kar transport that was bringing in the first shipment of raw materials, all of which was loaded up into varying sizes of hexagonal crates.

Flynn used some of his muscle power on them as he got a feel for the area and the mood of everyone involved, though most of his attention was on the H’kar. They were staying on their ships for the most part, but the first batch of worker recruits were offloading into some of the temporary structures that Flynn’s people had already set up and he wanted to get a feel for them, so he passed a few more crates along then headed over and observed the Star Force handlers giving them instructions and teaching them how to use Star Force tools.

Or rather reteaching them. Everyone here had already been instructed prior to arrival, but this was the first time they’d actually be getting their hands on most of the equipment. It was all basic stuff, but still different from what they were used to using. Flynn sensed some confusion but all the H’kar seemed eager to get to work reclaiming their homeworld, so no trouble there.

“Archon,” he heard someone say, turning around to see a Bsidd almost twice his height looking down at him.

“Yes?”

“Please come with me.”

Riley frowned as he sensed a problem, but followed the Bsidd out and across several fields of stacked crates until they got to one area abandoned of lifters who had moved on. One of the crates had been opened to start feeding the H’kar their native food and the Bsidd pulled out a package and tossed it to Flynn.

“You’re right, this is meat,” he said with a scowl at the dried up and shriveled sticks. “Probably that vat-grown crap the Royals came up with.”

“They are already eating it.”

Flynn sighed. “How much of their food supply is this?”

“Most from what my people can tell.”

“Those sneaky bastards. They’re trying to get us to use it now out of necessity in order to argue later that it’s acceptable.”

“What is their purpose?” the Bsidd asked. “Eating flesh is…disgusting.”

“Agreed, but some people like the idea of subordinating primitive races by eating them. Even if this is artificially grown the purpose is still the same…to prop up their egos.”

“What do you wish done with it?”

“Confiscate it all and get me an inventory on what they brought that isn’t meat. Right now it looks like we’re going to find out how much of our food they can stomach. If the notes are correct we should be able to use some foodstuffs, but there could be transitional problems.”

“Meaning it could make them sick even if they can digest it.”

“Possibly. We haven’t had much of a chance to study H’kar. Only a few diplomats that bothered to eat our food. I’ve got the list of things they ate, but most of the time they kept to their own rations.”

“Are there none in Axius?”

“No, there aren’t. Most of our interactions have been on the warfront and their membership in The Nexus discouraged tech sharing, so…” Flynn said, facepalming in his armor as he looked up at the equally armored Bsidd. “My fault. I should have taken care of this sooner rather than trusting them to supply their own rations. They’re trying to break down our scruples by putting us in this situation, so our mission is not to cave. I want all the meat rounded up and stacked on…pad 18. I’ll divert the traffic elsewhere. I’ll get a bigger incinerator prioritized for setup, then we’ll have the H’kar carry the meat over to it personally for disposal. Make sure no one does it for them.”

“Understood. But what of the incoming shipments?”

“I’ll have to send a courier back, I can’t go myself. In the meantime we’ll have to rush additional bioharvest facilities here.”

“What of the meat presumably onboard their ships?”

“We’ll get to that, but right now it’s what’s on the surface that’s the problem. It’s in our custody, and I think the Royals want to see us using it…so we’re not. As long as the H’kar don’t have living beings on their ships that they’re slaughtering to eat, they can munch on the stuff up there as long as they like. But when it comes on our turf, it’s a no go.”

The Bsidd nodded, a Human expression that they’d picked up long ago. “Do you want the crates emptied or left intact?”

“Open them and arrange for baskets so the H’kar know what it is they’re carrying. When you don’t see it, it’s easy to imagine it’s anything other than someone’s body parts, cooked and prepped however they may be.”

“I don’t understand how that is possible.”

“Fortunately you never lived in a civilization that ate meat. I did. You’re trained and tricked into thinking it’s food, and often berated if you ask any questions to the contrary. I know how to handle this situation, trust me.”

“We always trust our Archon.”

Flynn affectionately tapped the Bsidd on one of its many mandibles. “We’ll get these guys broken in, but we don’t compromise in order to do it. They’re joining us, not the other way around. They do it 100% our way. If you or the others get any grief over that, let me know. I’ve developed a talent for skull bashing that leaves the target alive but wiser in the aftermath.”

The Bsidd laughed, a single huff as he moved on to get to work carrying out his orders. Meanwhile Flynn accessed the comm system via his helmet and put a call into his Clan Cybertron fleet in orbit.

“Captain Menti, I need you to run a message for me to the H’kar relay line at Winma.”

2

December 2, 3402

Solar System

Earth

“Oh god,” Lara-379 said, dropping to the training mat with her hand on her head.

“What?” Aaron asked. “I didn’t think I hit you that hard.”

“No…” she said, grinding her teeth as Aaron finally felt around what little of her mind was accessible beyond the Ikrid blocks and caught the telltale instability of an ascension prompt.

“How many tier 2s do you have?” he asked suspiciously.

“26,” she said, looking up at him with worry in her eyes, “and I’m not letting this one go.”

Aaron closed his for a moment, then blinked and looked at her again. “Regenerator is on the way. I’ll help you all I can,” he said, holding up his hand in front of her.

Lara grabbed it and slapped his palm against her shoulder before dropping to all fours on the ground and looking down at the mat in the advanced training group’s private facility. She and the others had been working towards this for centuries. To date only one tier 2 psionic still evaded them, Mebvat, and she figured this was it…or a much more powerful tier 3. They were still stuck at 4 of 8 there, so either way whatever this was it was going to be a breakthrough.

Cascade effect was a huge concern for everyone in the advanced training group and Lara was going to stretch out this ascension as long as she could, but she wasn’t going to release it. That was a very bad idea but if there was a regenerator on the way she could choose to suffer whatever pain would ensue in order to give the Archons access to this new psionic. They could be patient then, but she was going to get this one now…and she knew she was going to regret that decision, but she stubbornly pushed ahead anyway.

With Aaron’s physical touch bypassing her Ikrid blocks, his presence in her mind provided a stabilizing rod that she centered herself on and kept the instability spinning around it at a more or less controlled rate. She lost herself in the moment and ended up spending hours on the mat without realizing the time or sensing the others gathering around her. All she could see was the soft padding beneath her when she bothered to open her eyes, and Aaron was the only person whose presence she could sense as the hurricane of adjustments her mind/body was trying to make before the flash growth clouded out everything else.

And this was exactly why ascensions had to be voluntary. If this happened in the field she’d be incapacitated, so the ability to shut it down was vitally needed. If she was prudent she’d shut it down here and now when her control began to slip, then wait for the ascension to randomly return in the coming days, weeks, or perhaps years…but Lara wasn’t having any of that. She’d get herself as prepped as possible now, with Aaron’s help holding her focus far longer than she could have done otherwise, but when the choice was forced upon her she was going to go for it.

Aaron knew that too, so he did everything he could to help center her without squashing the instability altogether. It kept changing as the minutes passed, but eventually it started to wither and he felt Lara begin stoking it. Her efforts stalled a bit longer but he sensed it was about to shut down on its own unless she went all in…which is exactly what she did when the second gen thought she couldn’t hold it any longer.

Aaron let go and stepped back, then a moment later Lara fell all the way down on the mat and began convulsing in pain so obvious he didn’t even need to feel the waves of it coming off her. She screamed multiple times out loud in addition to the torrent of telepathic pain flowing off her. Aaron blocked it out of his mind for the most part and just waited, unable to do anything to help her as she thrashed around on the mat for a long two minutes before finally passing out and lying still.

He knelt down beside her and grabbed her bare arm, connecting to her and finding that her heartrate was barely registering. A quick look at her status told him that she’d gone too far, and had it not been for the Uzti healing upgrade she already possessed it might very well have killed her. Right now he could see massive damage throughout her body as bone fragments had been sent out like shrapnel into the surrounding tissues, and he knew on instinct that wasn’t supposed to have happened. The files in the pyramid hadn’t mentioned this possible side effect and he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Her brain was also damaged, for her skull had imploded with tiny slivers of bone. They hadn’t gone too deep, but Aaron could tell that she’d received permanent damage even as the new bones that had been formed in the process gleamed like gold from his mental perspective, but their price of acquisition had been too high…and for some reason Aaron doubted that delaying the ascension would have helped to prevent this.

“Now,” Aaron said to the medtech that was standing by.

He didn’t hesitate, slapping the shiny regenerator onto her neck and seeing it melt into action instantly. From Aaron’s point of view he saw the tiny tendrils expanding out into her body, sensing and repairing the damage done, and with each one that contacted a piece of shrapnel he saw the bone just melt away as it was disassembled and the mass applied elsewhere in her body as needed.

Bit by bit the shards were removed and the surrounding tissues repaired, then the device flowed back into its normal shape and dropped off Lara’s neck, though she was still unconscious.

“Med bay,” Aaron said, picking her up and carrying her in his arms. “I need full scans and documentation.”

“They screwed up,” Vortison said regretfully as he studied a wall full of very small data entries in his lab as Lara slept elsewhere. “There’s no way around it. This is clearly a cascade malfunction and no amount of prep work is going to fix it.”

“Meaning it’ll happen to us if we share?” Aaron asked.

“Most definitely. A padawan might avoid it if it’s one of the first psionics attained, but all of you have far too much tissue where it’s not supposed to be. The Jumat nodules within her bones are primarily responsible for the fracturing, but even if you reverse the order I’m positive that there are going to be other consequences that the Zak’de’ron did not take into account.”

“How will the Jumat develop if the Mebvat comes first?”

“I would hope that is something they foresaw given that a tier 2 is expected to come before a tier 3, but my biggest concern with that is the new Jumat tissue acting like a pressure wedge and splitting the bones. It’s a small possibility, but after seeing this I’m not counting on the Zak’de’ron’s wisdom any longer.”

“Could time be an issue?”

“Because you’re attaining them faster? No. This is straight up bad planning. Maybe they never tested it in a subject or were going to wait and monitor as Zen’zat advanced and make modifications when problems occur, but this genetic package has flaws in it. There’s no denying that now.”

“Damn it,” Aaron said, rubbing his chin as he paced around the lab. After all this time he and the other trailblazers had come to trust in the scientific wizardry of the V’kit’no’sat and especially the Zak’de’ron, but it seemed they weren’t deserving of it any more…which was probably due to Star Force becoming a peer and beginning to peel back the perceptual curtain of invincibility.

“Or maybe they did,” Aaron added as a thought occurred to him. “With their own Zen’zat.”

Vortison raised an eyebrow. “Leaving the standard V’kit’no’sat versions with the original code and no updates? That’s conceivable, but I don’t think they’re going to be interested in sharing with us.”

“No, we’re on our own. Can you fix this?”

“Given time,” Vortison said carefully, “yes, I think I can. I’m close to being able to trigger the remaining tier 3s manually, Lara just beat me to the remaining tier 2.”

“Oh?” Aaron said, with that being news to him.

“I don’t want to make mistakes, so I’m being careful and patient, but I am getting close. Fixing this current problem is another matter entirely. I’m going to have to write new code.”

Aaron knew what that meant, and it wasn’t good for the short term.

5 weeks later…

Lara jumped up over a 4 meter high wall using a combination of her Kex and Yetu, just sliding her body over the top with nothing touching save for a guiding hand as she flipped over and landed in a crouch on the far side. She stumbled a bit, but managed to get into a run fairly quick and dove into a chute that led into a slide that took her down two levels before dumping her out into pool that she had to swim across, half of which was underground with no air available above, forcing her to hold her breath.

She came out dripping wet but burst back into a run and began working her way through moving obstacles that forced her to use her agility and quick reflexes. Lara messed up once and got punched backward two meters, but she recovered and got back at it as if nothing had occurred. Aaron was waiting for her at the finish line of the obstacle course and as soon as she slapped her hand down on the finish pedestal her calm demeanor vanished as she summoned up a Jumat blast on her right arm and threw it against the sidewall with an audible ‘whack’ that cracked the material ever so slightly.

“Aaron, fuck this! It’s gone, not suppressed, gone!”

“I know,” he said calmly, which only seemed to elicit a backlash from her as she pitted him with a hateful stare.

“And the worst part is, apparently I didn’t do it to myself. If Vortison is right, I was screwed before the ascension even started. I lost 400 years of training, Aaron. 400 years!” she yelled, but he knew her anger wasn’t with him, and soon the rage reversed itself into despair and she collapsed to the ground with tears welling up.

He walked over and sat down next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and holding her snug against him. “You took the hit for us. We should have got to it first.”

Lara sniffed. “So a second gen finally beats you…and this is the reward I get.”

Aaron closed his eyes as he locked down his own emotions. She didn’t need any more bouncing around inside her than her own right now. The damage done to her body had set her back considerably, even after being healed, but it was the damage to her brain had done the worst of it. Tissue could be regrown, but the skills and knowledge in it could not. The parts of her brain that had been torn by the bone shards were now blank and cutting into her skills in random places. She could relearn what she’d lost, but it was going to take time. A lot of time.

“Next time you see a dragon, feel free to punch him.”

She welled up more and leaned into his shoulder. “It’s not fair. I can’t even pass the titan trials. I’m mage 478. ViLord 29 to mage 478,” she said with a teary cringe. “And I can’t even blame myself. It was a damn genetic booby trap. That’s not…fair.”

She wasn’t complaining, Aaron knew. She was just venting what she was feeling and giving her the opportunity was about all he could do for her. Aaron could understand what was going on inside, for it was the same thing that he’d be experiencing had he gotten to Mebvat before her. All that time, all those workouts, all those battlefield missions…if they were a square of experience, for Lara her square was now filled with shotgun holes. Some of her abilities were still ViLord level, but others had fallen so far it had pulled her ranking down all the way to mage, for the Archon levels were comprehensive, not additive.

Worse still, she didn’t have any unaffected subsets. Each of the main 5 divisions was compromised and a lot of the underlying categories were as well. Even her balance had been affected, which Aaron hoped she’d recover more quickly, but he could tell that wasn’t happening either. Her workout had been glitchy, and she was probably going to remain glitchy for a very long time going forward. Her body and mind were no longer the same, and the path back to her former ViLord form would have to be a different one…and one that none of the others had traveled before.

Sure, some of them had been seriously injured and lost levels that they had to regain, but nothing like this had ever occurred. They’d been physical weaknesses, not mental gaps. One moment Lara would be operating as a ViLord, then something would change and she’d be back on a lower level. That was probably what was bothering her the most. She had a foot in both worlds and was spanning titan level at the same time, not allowing her to be able to root herself and start climbing again.

“It could have been worse,” Aaron said, feeling her anger return, but he soothed it away with a brush of her forehead. “Listen to me. You got hit hard, but it could have been a lot worse. The Regenerator could have put you back together if you died, but you could have been all the way back to civie level. Even maturia level. It could have been a lot worse, and I’m glad you’ve held on to as much as you have. You don’t have to be thankful for that, but I am.”

“No need for you to feel guilty.”

Aaron shrugged. “We’re supposed to figure everything out and pass it on to you guys.”

She laughed a sad snort. “So I get fragged and now I’m my own version of trailblazer?”

“You’re going to have to be to recover from this. There’s no training precedent to pattern off of.”

“Figures,” she said, hiding her face in his shoulder again.

“I know it wasn’t your choice, but thank you,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Thanks for taking the hit and sparing us from it.”

“It’s not fair…” she muttered and kept randomly repeating as she continued to cry. “It’s not fair.”

3

April 3, 3428

Denichor System (H’kar Region)

Karrach

Flynn read the status reports coming in from the Nexus half of H’kar territory detailing the problems in the region. He had Archons there overseeing the slow conversion of those worlds and the training programs they’d begun to set up to prep volunteers before they were transferred back here, and from what they were telling him there was something major going on in The Nexus. Support patrols had been pulled back from the region entirely…though that wasn’t unexpected…but the lawlessness that had sprung up in the interim was rather shocking.

Flynn had sent a mixed H’kar/Bsidd fleet out to begin reestablishing the patrols and putting some order to the chaos, but there was too much territory for them to cover. They’d secure the areas around H’kar systems but the greater region was lost, and not just to one faction, but hundreds of them working with various agendas that The Nexus had suppressed to some extent, with only now Flynn realizing just how much they’d been holding together, whether through real strength or sheer intimidation.

Whatever the cause, once they’d officially withdrawn from the area now that the H’kar were no longer members, a stretch of some 800 lightyears long and 400 wide was completely out of control. Piracy was rampant and several local wars had broken out. Flynn knew that something needed to be done but he didn’t have the resources to do it. The bulk of the H’kar fleet was still fighting lizards along the inside border and reclaiming worlds, and should he redirect them to secure the surrounding territories he’d only be extending one problem in exchange for suppressing another.

In order to deal with this anarchy Star Force would have to come in and start annexing systems or negotiating/leveraging deals. Davis had warned him something like this could be coming and told him to focus on solidifying the H’kar’s position, but it was the news leaking into the H’kar territory through previous Nexus contacts that had him the most worried.

One of the Nexus member races had lost a major battle resulting in a chunk of 40 or so star systems going into open rebellion. The Meintre had formerly owned one of those systems but it had fallen in a very bloody battle to the Verrma, one of the races that existed within The Nexus’s domain without being part of that alliance or under their rule. For whatever reason they’d decided to strike and had done so effectively, taking out the primary control rod in that region and sweeping up the rest with little effort.

Worst of all was the effect on the surrounding region, for it was beginning to fall into chaos like what was happening near the H’kar, telling Flynn that the locals didn’t think The Nexus would be coming back to oust the Verrma. That, or if they did they’d be so busy with them not to notice or care about anyone else.

The reports continued on to mention instability scattered across other parts of The Nexus. Nothing so large as to take it down, but disturbing news none the less and an incessant reminder as to why he needed to solidify the H’kar into a Star Force stabilizing rod for the immediate region and to send the firm message that they were not going to be as tolerant as The Nexus when it came to bad behavior on the part of their neighbors.

The trouble was the timing. Karrach was rebuilding rapidly and the supply convoys coming in from the Nexus half of H’kar territory was fueling it to no end. Already Flynn had established feeder colonies in five surrounding systems to harvest local resources and funnel them here, while he likewise funneled trained personnel and equipment to them. The H’kar net was beginning to be stretched out and would only snowball going forward now that he’d eliminated the problem of the Royals. His Archons now ruled in their place in the distant systems and the H’kar populace seemed to appreciate the change.

They were also aware of what was happening around them and wanted to hold on to their current systems in addition to reclaiming those that had been lost. If they could do that their empire would be far larger than pre-lizard invasion, not to mention with all the interconnecting systems between the two that Flynn needed to at least establish a link through. Right now those systems were still lizard occupied, though they really couldn’t do anything about convoys passing through so long as they were well armed.

The rift between the two H’kar territories would shrink over time, but Flynn had a lot of empty systems to fill and too few H’kar to do it. Trained H’kar, anyway, for he wasn’t using their existing population for much more than resource production and fighting the lizards. Their military had already learned how to work under the Star Force system so he wasn’t overly concerned about them, but he knew if he just started mixing the standard civilians in with the new H’kar infrastructure that it would come back to bite him. In addition to rebuilding the planet he had to rework the H’kar culture, which meant putting everyone through indoctrination before they could take part in the activities here.

All the H’kar working on Karrach were now Star Force H’kar, but the bulk of the H’kar population was still in Nexus mode and he only had so many indoctrination facilities to work with. More were being built in both H’kar regions and maturias were full to the brim as it was. Progress was being made, and being made rapidly, but digesting such a large civilization was not something that happened in a handful of decades. This was a century-long endeavor…at minimum, and that was assuming the trailblazer would troubleshoot effectively all the little snafus as they arose while simultaneously crafting a new identity for the very large and very proud race.

There was a reason a trailblazer had been assigned this task, for no Duke, let alone an Administrator could have handled it…and he had many of the latter working with him already. His former Clan Marquis, Emma Triol, was now assigned to him as Duke Triol and tasked with helping him manage this mess of a transition along with half a dozen Barons Davis had sent his way. All of them were incredibly valuable, but he was in the hot seat and dictating the tasks they then went about carrying out. The fate of the H’kar was on his shoulders, but it was the rest of the surrounding galaxy that he was truly concerned about.

Not only were there threats within The Nexus’s domain that they kept suppressed, there were also threats outside of it that were perched and apparently waiting to strike if they saw a weakness. Not to take down the entire Nexus, but to claim a chunk of their territory here and there. Defending the grid point system was The Nexus’s highest priority and a potentially fatal weakness, for if they lost one their empire in that region would inevitably crumble due to the sheer size of the territory The Nexus oversaw…and their enemies knew that all too well.

Ironically Star Force now possessed a piece of that grid point system. The H’kar had built one, with the assistance of the stronger Nexus races long ago and now it was in the hands of Star Force. The link was maintained and traffic continued to flow, but the reports that kept coming in from his Archons in charge of the rimward territory were documenting an increase of traffic, some of which was not destined for H’kar worlds. They were transitioning through the lizard territories in order to get to the ADZ and the occupation zone expansions, taking the slow route given the fact that Star Force hadn’t taken up the Nexus’s offer of their allowing an addition to the grid point system to be created in or near the ADZ.

Looking at the huge map that now covered all of Star Force’s territory and influence, it was painfully obvious what needed to be done. Absent the grid point system the fastest means of travel across chunks of the galaxy was to find clear space lanes between black holes. Star Force had several marked and used them infrequently to get to H’kar territory and from there access the rest of The Nexus, but they’d never laid claim to them. Given the increased instability within The Nexus, Flynn knew they had to take possession of several and begin establishing quicker routes from the grid point they possessed back to the ADZ, for going through the coreward part of H’kar territory was a big detour and that was where he was going to be developing the interconnectivity for the H’kar’s sake.

Running through numerous permutations and appending the reports, Flynn composed a holographic message for Davis and sent it off through their piecemeal communications network via a courier that would get it back to the nearest firm link in the relay grid that would bounce it all the way back to Earth…or wherever else the Director might be at the moment.

The Sety ambassador was escorted to the chamber via a single Knight straight from the landing pad in Atlantis to which he’d been summoned from their embassy in Epsilon Eridani. The tree-like alien walked inside expecting either trouble or something momentous, for it was rare to be called to Earth, from which he and the other representatives of foreign civilizations were banned.

“You summoned me for a purpose,” the Sety said as he walked inside and over to the table where Davis already sat. “What is it?”

The Star Force Director waited until the diplomat took its seat on the other side of the very small table that he’d ordered put in for this occasion. When the Knight shut the door only the two of them were left in the otherwise large chamber with Davis leaning back in his chair in a stiff but somewhat irreverent manner.

“I need to know what’s really going on in The Nexus.”

“A great many things, as always. To what specifically do you refer?”

“Your crumbling control…and do not deny it, I can see into your mind. You may not be told everything, but I need to know what you know.”

“If I cannot hide secrets from you, and the purpose of my coming here was to give you the chance to peer into my mind, why bother with my explaining?”

“My skills are not that advanced, though I can bring in someone whose are if needed. That shouldn’t be necessary between neighbors and business partners.”

The Sety shifted in its seat, crackling its rough skin as it bent. “As you said, they do not always tell me everything, but from what I know it does not concern Star Force and is merely an interior matter.”

“I have reports to the contrary. Explain what you know and we’ll take it from there.”

“It’s simply a matter of logistics. Too few patrol ships mean we deal with the greatest threats and don’t always have time to get to the little ones. As a result there is always some level of lawlessness within The Nexus’s domain. Recent times have seen an increase in this.”

“Have you seen the reports of traffic flow coming into our territory?”

“Should I have?”

“They’re increasing. Not dramatically, not yet, but you and I need to come to an arrangement before what could be a flood of refugees head this way.”

“You make it sound like you believe The Nexus is on the verge of collapse.”

“Is it?”

“Most assuredly not.”

“As a whole?”

“I will admit some small regions are in disarray, but the mass of Nexus territory is secure.”

“One of those small regions surrounds the H’kar.”

“When they withdrew their memberships our patrols in that region ceased. We no longer have a claim to it and rightly pulled back our forces to help secure other locations that still remained within our domain.”

“Sloppy.”

“Necessary,” the Sety countered.

“How many other regions are you pulling back from?”

“A handful that I know of. As you said, I’m not informed of everything. I’m told what I need to know regarding this assignment and what happens involving Star Force territory. Our recent acquisitions here are progressing smoothly, that I can assure you.”

“And our handling of the H’kar grid point?”

“I’ve received no complaints. Are you implementing a change in policy?”

“No, I’m not. I wanted you here to discuss future problems. Is this instability within The Nexus expected to continue?”

“The cause is a lack of necessary fleet strength. Until that is resolved, we will not be able to regain full control.”

“What is causing the lack?”

“Attrition, pure and simple.”

“Is there a plan to counter this?”

“I’m sure there is, but I’m not privy to it.”

Davis waved a hand and a holographic map formed between them. He telepathically scaled it down to the region desired with the H’kar making up a small block in an otherwise hefty rectangle that extended almost from the top of the galactic plane to the bottom.

“I believe this region is seeing a large amount of unrest, correct?”

“I don’t have a full accounting of disturbances, but there are several hot spots within this area.”

“My sources tell me your major Nexus fleets have reduced in size by more than half here, leaving the denizens quite upset. Many of which have already expressed interest in joining Star Force.”

“You believe we’re prematurely withdrawing from the region?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to accept their petitions for membership?”

“Possibly.”

“And you wish us to maintain our fleet strength to safeguard them until such a time as the transfer is made?”

“No. I want to help you get out early.”

The Sety was taken aback. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want The Nexus to fall apart and leave the outer rim in chaos. The Sety and the other major races save for the Gfatt have no worlds there, and they have only one. The Tolsoi are a moderately strong member, if I read your civilization disposition correctly?”

“They are the pillar on which this region is based.”

“But they still require outside backing to handle the current local threats?”

“Most subregions do.”

Davis adjusted the map again, highlighting the black holes within both Star Force territory and the near side of The Nexus. Not all of them held jumplines to others, for matters of distance, size, or stuff being in the way. Some were useable by Star Force and not by others now that their gravity drives were nearing V’kit’no’sat levels of speed and accuracy, but others were highways used by thousands of races regularly. Some were guarded by local races while most were unclaimed.

“I need you to start routing all Nexus traffic coming into Star Force territory through these two trade routes,” Davis said, highlighting a few of the black hole lines and connecting them with regular jumps that seemed pathetically short in comparison. “We will be securing them shortly in order to preserve transit rights, rather than to constrict or tax them. As it stands now a lot of your ships are moving through lizard territory and we’re starting to hear that some aren’t making it through. Whether these are lizards picking them off or others simply poaching in their territory we can’t confirm yet, but as more and more traffic is starting to come this way we need to channel it properly and protect whoever it is moving back and forth between our empires.”

“Reasonable,” the Sety agreed. “Though slightly longer in distance traveled.”

“Safe is better than fast, and it’s a far shorter route than going through H’kar territory to avoid as much lizard space as possible. We’ll cut safe corridors through ahead of the rest of the invasion, but I need you to see that they’re used.”

“I can only relay the request, but I see no reason why it wouldn’t be heeded. We have a growing investment in Star Force territory and maintaining secure transit pathways is essential without the presence of a grid point to expedite matters.”

“We’re not going to go to the expense of building one when we have so many other projects that require current resources,” Davis reiterated an old sticking point, “and I know neither the Sety nor The Nexus as a whole is going to fund the creation of one. As it is, I don’t think you’ve built an addition in a very long time.”

“As you said, it requires a great deal of resources.”

“That you need for warships?”

“Among other things.”

“While we are not going to build one, we will go to the expense of moving one…or rather a pair, as it were.”

“Move one?”

“Let’s just be blunt,” Davis said, pointing at the map. “You’re getting out of this entire region sooner or later. You can’t outright abandon it because of your member states, and if you did that’d send a signal to all the other ones that they might also be on the chopping block. You’ve based your alliance on the necessity of backing each other up, but you’re finding yourselves unable to do that on an adequate level everywhere so you’re trimming off forces here and there and trying to make up for the shortfall.”

“You have a suggestion to make?”

“You need a plan of action, and I have one…a bold one.”

“I’m listening.”

“I know the Meintre lost a valuable system.”

“They did.”

“And I suspect that entire subregion is about to be lost.”

“No. My information says we’re mounting a countering force sometime in the near future. The Meintre are too valuable to let fall.”

Davis pointed at the Star Force section of the map. “Bring them here.”

The Sety looked confused. “I don’t understand. You want the evacuees?”

“No, relocate their entire civilization here.”

“The loss of existing infrastructure…no, that is insane.”

“You’re going to lose it anyway in battle soon enough,” Davis pointed out, then remained silent to let that sink in.

“You do not strike me as unwise or unreasonable. Speak your plan.”

“A lot of your most advanced warships are used to guard the grid points. You can’t let them fall or entire regions will be cut off from quick reinforcements. You don’t have the local industry for them to support themselves so your powerbase flows out of the strongest regions and you use the grid points to carry it to wherever needed. If the grid point in Meintre territory is moved, then Star Force will take responsibility for its protection, thus freeing up a huge amount of your warfleet to put to use elsewhere.”

The Sety considered that for a moment. “But that would also require stranding the Meintre…or moving them here. The cost of doing that will be so expensive that the Meintre will be gutted just as assuredly as they would be if they were destroyed.”

“Not true,” Davis said, holding up a finger for emphasis. “They will be weakened, but they will be able to regrow under our protection and send ships back to The Nexus to assist in securing other regions. I am not asking them to join Star Force. I am offering them territory within ours…subject to standing agreement protocols…and the protection of our fleets. The grid point will become our property, located in a nearby system with easy access for the Meintre, and the other end of it will be located in H’kar space.”

“Giving Star Force territory its link into the grid point system,” the Sety said guardedly.

“Which will allow you greater access and provide a quick means of support from the Meintre once they rebuild. It will take time to see benefits, but the clock will be in your favor.”

“We will have to abandon the Meintre region altogether.”

“From the reports I’m seeing, you’re going to lose it anyway. And we might end up getting the refugees from it eventually, though it is quite far from here if the grid point linkage goes down. But I’m not finished yet,” Davis added. “All these member races and their subregions,” he said, referring back to those along the H’kar border and easily doubling the total territory Star Force controlled/oversaw to date, “will be annexed by Star Force simultaneously. We don’t have the resources to safeguard them, but we do have the Archons. They can take command and use the local defense forces to better effect than you are, and we can supplement them in some small ways while The Nexus forces that are not local withdraw to other assignments…such as helping the Meintre hold on long enough to evacuate.”

The Sety looked at him disbelievingly. For The Nexus that piece of territory was a mere crumb compared to the rest, but it was a huge territory grab for a civilization as small as Star Force…and he didn’t think they had a chance in a million of holding it.

“The Archons can,” Davis insisted, peeking into his thoughts.

“You think your commanders are that good?”

“I know they are, and a lot of these races have already expressed some level of interest, officially or unofficially, of either joining us or forming some type of alliance. They see The Nexus’s ability to safeguard them crumbling, and I think it would be better if you backed out on good terms rather than pulling out as the region collapses.”

“To help us save face?”

“If your reputation is holding other threats at bay, then yes. It’s a weapon you can’t afford to lose.”

“And you said you would cover the cost of relocating the grid points?”

“While you cover the cost of the Meintre relocation. We’ll provide the planets cost free, but the rest is up to you to build or relocate from their existing worlds.”

“The amount of cargo ships required for that would be staggering.”

“Which is why we need secure routes prior to the grid point system being moved. That will have to occur last.”

“They are so large I do not know how you would go about moving them in any efficient manner.”

“We’re good at solving tech problems. We can handle it and prop up this region, allowing you to withdraw and the Meintre to rebuild in isolation from the rest of The Nexus’s threats even as they’re being systematically destroyed. Given time, if you can hold on long enough, their regrowth can help supplement and stabilize your patrol fleets.”

The Sety looked at the map again, then back at Davis.

“I will relay your proposal, but to give them as much information as possible, for the sake of consideration only, let’s negotiate in theory the details of this agreement…starting with the security of the evacuation routes.

4

August 2, 3429

Ollo System (lizard territory)

Tella

The lizard jumpship sat in stellar orbit briefly as it dispatched three cruisers, then it left the system after transmitting a message to the single inhabited planet of Tella. The lizards on the world accepted the announcement of couriers arriving and met with two of the cruisers in orbit to exchange crews and transmit mastermind markers while the third cruiser headed down to the surface. It was granted access through lowered planetary shields and wisp patrols, finally landing at one of the lizard spaceports with a stream of standard variants pouring out.

A lizard administrator and two librarians were awaiting them along with a host of their own standard variants, but when a much larger lizard appeared coming down the ramp off the cruiser they all flinched. They’d been told a courier was coming, not a mastermind.

The largest of all the lizards casually walked across the wide landing pad with his phalanx of escorts as the administrator moved to intercept his path…which was not headed for him.

“We were not told of your arrival,” he apologized as he came up alongside the escorts, but neither they nor the mastermind stopped walking to address him. “What are your orders?”

“Cease all outgoing transmissions from this system. Hold all ships that arrive until I give orders for them to be released,” the mastermind said while barely looking at the administrator.

The tall but thin lizard gestured to one of the librarians and it began to catalog and transmit the order.

“All Star Force vessels are to be considered neutral from this point forward. If one arrives in this system it is to be ignored. I have come to an arrangement that will spare this world. They will not land on the surface, and we will not engage or hinder them in any way in space. See to it that agreement is not violated, administrator.”

“It will be done.”

The mastermind stopped and extended a hand towards the administrator, who brushed his own against it to receive the mastermind’s mark.

“A great many things are changing, and we have to retool quickly in order to serve our purpose. I need a full report on system logistics.”

The administrator turned to the other librarian who was already tapping orders onto a handheld device. “You will have it shortly. What we are retooling?”

“With the agreement made with Star Force we no longer have to worry about the security of this system. We are retooling into an aggressive industrial expansion per the protocols I will be supplying.”

“Our resource base is currently thin. We’ve been relying on imports for several key items.”

“No longer. We must produce everything locally.”

“That will cause considerable delays in production.”

“That is why I am here to deal with the matter myself,” the mastermind said, deciding the conversation was finished and walking on with his phalanx as the administrator stayed put for a moment and conversed with the librarians, then the three of them moved off to begin implementing orders and readying the planet for whatever changes were to come.

And as simple as that, Star Force added another planet full of lizards to its quickly growing collection.

“Where is he?” Keev-4211 asked his command staff in a small huddle around a holographic map at the back of the bridge of his Warship-class flagship.

“Probably Lutell,” an analyst said, pointing at a dot on the map representing the star system, “but Innwest and Boulo are also possibilities. His genetic markers are in all three systems.”

“The rest of these are clean?” Keev asked, gesturing to the 28 systems in the same geographical region.

“That’s what our scouts reported.”

“Why hasn’t he claimed them all?” Keev’s padawan asked. “They’re close enough to remain in relay contact with.”

“Maybe that’s all he thinks he needs,” Captain Jarren speculated.

“They’re not acting with coordination anymore,” Keev noted. “They know they’re going to die soon, so they’re fortifying key systems to try and do as much damage as possible. There’s no need for him to spread marker instructions to these feeder systems. Their tasks are simplistic and probably beneath his notice. We’ve seen administrators run fully developed planets on their own, so I’m not surprised the rest of these systems don’t have a marker. If they stay clean their fate is certain, but we need to find out where he is. I don’t want to launch three separate attacks if we can only manage one.”

“Do you think he’s even there?” his padawan asked. “Why sacrifice himself if he can keep moving around?”

“If he’s put down markers,” the analyst suggested, “then he’s fairly well involved in the oversight. He won’t leave prematurely.”

“But he might run to one of these other systems when the fireworks start,” the Captain suggested.

Keev sighed. “We don’t have signal jammers, so we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way. Blockade the systems, orbital bombardment to pluck their transmission capability, then we can send the masterminds down and find out exactly where this bastard is. On two worlds we won’t have to fight them to the death, but I really don’t want to have to batter my way through three planetary defense networks to get to that point. Can’t we narrow this down any more?”

“Masterminds are slippery,” the analyst reminded him. “If we didn’t have marker scouts going in we wouldn’t have been able to narrow it down to these three. I’m trusting that the Saber lizards’ intel is accurate, and this is as close as we can get based on it.”

“We could assault them in sequence and hope we guess right the first or second time,” the Captain suggested.

“No,” Keev said with an emphatic shake of his head. “We have to do this simultaneously. Even if we kill him we might not even know for sure until we sort through the rubble. If he is likely to go mobile we can’t spook him. Assuming he is on one of these three systems, we have to blockade all of them simultaneously and take out their comm capability.”

“And if he’s elsewhere?” his padawan asked.

“Then we’ll be able to tell by how they respond to our attack,” the analyst answered the Archon. “We don’t have to physically see the mastermind to know of his presence.”

“Once we confirm that we’ve got him isolated,” Keev continued, “we send out our own masterminds to the unmarked systems and assume control. If there is a mastermind hiding out on one of them then we’re screwed, because he’ll be able to spill our secret before we knock the transmitters down. But even though they could grow one for each world they don’t, so I highly doubt there are any there or just visiting without throwing down a marker.”

The Captain nodded. “We’ve got him pinned down to worlds that in the past wouldn’t have ever warranted one. That suggests he’s run before and was transplanted here rather than grown. If we assault this region piecemeal he could run again if we hit the wrong system first. I don’t like it either, but I agree with the titan. We’ve got to assault all three simultaneously.”

“We don’t have enough ships for that,” his padawan said, stating the obvious.

“Enough to blockade,” the analyst suggested, with all eyes going to her. “If we can tell by early reactions to our presence where the mastermind is, we can pull the ships from the other two systems out and concentrate our assault on just the one he is at.”

“A feint?” Keev considered. “That’s assuming we can isolate him through naval combat alone.”

The analyst shrugged. “Best suggestion I’ve got.”

“And worth a try. If we have to sit in blockade mode for a while until we get reinforcements, so be it. Our main priority is locating the mastermind. After that happens and we cut his comm lines we can proceed however we like. So…best guesses people.”

“Lutell is the obvious place,” his padawan said deviously. “So that probably means he’s not there?”

“If he has markers on three worlds, that means he’s either been to all three or sent representatives to transmit for him,” the analyst detailed. “Lutell is the most advanced and would therefore require the most oversight…but as was noted, none of these systems truly require a mastermind for operation.”

“Then what is he up to?” the Captain asked.

“Good question,” Keev echoed. “There’s always some angle in play and as far as we know they haven’t caught on to our ability to read their markers. So we know these three systems are highlighted, but he doesn’t.”

“He’s doing what he’s programmed to,” another analyst interjected. “He has little to work with so he’s trying to expand upon it before he can do anything clever.”

“Maybe,” Keev half agreed, “but they can cause trouble with very little in the right circumstances. If he is trying to build, where would he be?”

“Lutell,” the first analyst repeated.

Keev sighed. “Alright. We’ll split 50/25/25 with the bulk going to Lutell. Let’s hope we get lucky and this guy wants to go down fighting with as big a swing as possible. If he hides or runs we’re going to have a mess to deal with. Captain, pick your favorite assault ships.”

Jarren smiled. “Happy to, Archon.”

Further back in the occupation zone, the mastermind known as 118 had fully assimilated the planet of Tella to his purposes, for there hadn’t been any dissent upon his arrival. He was a mastermind and they followed his orders…it was as simple as that. Reworking the current lizard infrastructure towards what he needed was the challenge, but by the first arrival of a lizard jumpship to the system that he wasn’t confiscating, he was ready with the prerequisite amount of cargo, making his first contribution a success.

It hadn’t been assured, for creating the new factories was tiresome enough, but securing all the needed resources from the system had required additional mines off planet following a slew of mineral scouting expeditions to the rocky, lifeless worlds further out and encompassed by the asteroid field that ringed the star. He’d been lucky enough to get a few finds right away, and along with some tricky conversion methods that had come from the Sabers he was able to convert some high volume/low value materials into the more valuable ones while using replacement parts made of lesser quality materials but that would still get the job done in order to meet his first quota.

He’d been instructed that the quota wasn’t a firm requirement, but rather a benchmark to work towards. Each planet had a unique situation for the mastermind sent to it to adjust to, but the main priority for them to be here was to lock down the population while putting them to good use. There were too many lizards to be evacuated en mass, and the idea of fighting those they couldn’t move was so inefficient that it had been deemed necessary to adopt a ‘take and hold’ strategy. Perhaps one day this world would be evacuated, but for now it was going to remain in lizard hands…but the mastermind obeyed the Archons, thus this world would as well.

The lizards here didn’t know that, nor did they need to. Orders would flow through the mastermind and that was that.

When the convoy of four lizard jumpships entered the system they were easily identified as such, but their shape and coloration were different from standard varieties. They were smaller and colored blue rather than yellow/tan, but that didn’t make any difference to the comm/ID systems. Plus, if they were hostile, it would be up to 118 to determine that…and he knew they weren’t.

He granted them permission to enter and his lizard naval forces automatically accepted their presence here. When they reached low orbit they began to dispel landing craft, also of new design, that traveled down to the surface and began picking up the cargo he’d had stacked up into small mountains across several pads. Each crate contained Star Force building materials, made exactly to the specifications they required, but produced by the lizards and with their technology.

Now that this initial allotment had been reached and on time, he was able to give the lizards in orbit estimates for future production and a report of his activities here…for he hadn’t had previous contact with Star Force since his arrival. The interstellar communication device was of no use to that end given its limited range, but a recently started construction project was enlarging it so that it would be able to reach other claimed lizard worlds who could bounce the reports on to a proper Star Force receiver.

Until then he only had couriers to work with, and those were the cargo convoys that would be arriving periodically. They weren’t under his command, but they would still convey messages back and forth. His report going out stipulated that the planet was fully under his control and producing adequate amounts of the desired parts and would continue to do so until he received further orders.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t have plenty of work to do. Maintaining the quotas was the first priority, but beyond that he had a lot of building to do regardless of what the eventual fate of this planet was. More factories, more mines, and more shipyards. He’d been instructed to keep the population as low as possible, but he could grow as many as needed and he intended to do so in order to create as much mobile equipment as he could. He had the new designs and intended to add at least one jumpship to his arsenal, not to mention a few warships that he could send on back to Clan Saber for them to use however they liked.

He had operational autonomy, as any mastermind was meant to, and he intended to use his to enhance the Saber’s powerbase as much as he could while maintaining this planet’s population of lizards on site so that evacuation resources could be saved and Tella could contribute to Star Force rather than be a drain on it.

It was a worthy assignment, and his first, but it would not be his last. Someday in the future, when he’d completed enough assignments successfully, he’d earn his name. Right now only one mastermind had one, and that was their progenitor, Thrawn. 118 would get his in time, but he had to demonstrate his skills and further develop them in order to attain that hallowed level. Thrawn was far older and more experienced than him, but he also had some of his memories and his overall template. 118 was sure he’d live up to his progenitor’s example, but one thing that had become clear to both of them was that Star Force favored results over genetic predisposition…and that was something he could wholeheartedly agree with. Identical genetics often yielded differing results, his memories from Thrawn confirmed this, and if 118 was to have a name he’d have to earn it on his own merits.

And that was what he intended to do, first by meeting the cargo quotas, and then by building up this planet in a way beneficial to Clan Saber while not hampering their eventual evacuation plans. Mobile units were the key, and he planned on developing a few new variations on his own with a think tank of his scientists already working on several projects.

5

July 29, 3430

Solar System

Earth

“Do we have a deal?” Arch Duke Vectir asked Davis from across the planning table that the Director’s desk had stretched out into, taking up a bit more of the otherwise empty space in his office atop Atlantis.

“Yes, but there have been revisions that I have accepted. The courier was sent four days ago.”

“What do you need from us?” Arch Duke Hightower asked, with his counterparts from Rotunna, Zerus, and Pagaliss likewise seated around the table for this ultra-high level 5 man conference. Never could he remember a time when they were all in the same system at once, given the fact that they each oversaw one of Star Force’s primary systems. Hightower’s was just next door to Sol, but the others were quite far away with Rotunna in Beta Region, Zerus in Alpha Region, and Pagaliss in the Calavari Region.

All were still in the ADZ or close to it, however, and Star Force had grown considerably beyond that dense region, which was in point the reason why they had all been summoned back to Earth.

“The Sety want to increase the number of systems given to them so they can harbor other races beyond the Meintre, including portions of the Gfatt and Arbos. They mean to make this a part of their long term strategy, and so long as we maintain the security of the region so they can build uninterrupted, they will relocate a closer grid point pair to facilitate the transfer, then move the Meintre link to fill the gap once they’ve evacuated.”

“How aggressive is the opposition getting?” Arch Duke Karthen asked, who headed up the Bsidd faction from their capitol in Zerus, though he was Human like the other four men at the table. Most of the administrators within the Bsidd were of their race, but the highest positions required more experience and as their race grew by leaps and bounds no less than an Arch Duke was required to turn their reproductive strength away from tragedy and into a powerful advantage. The lesson of the Kiritas had been learned well, and the Bsidd had never fallen into the trap of overpopulation.

“I’m not sure, but the Sety seem to think that pulling back will buy them a great deal of time. It will look like losses, but if they’re able to withdraw a significant portion of the population and critical equipment they will be in a better position than their enemies know.”

“Until they learn of their relocation here,” Arch Duke Dante, head of the Calavari faction, pointed out.

“Without the use of the grid point system we are too far away to fall under attack, so it is a safe bet that even if they learn of it they will not be able to do anything about it.”

“What are the chances of it being compromised?”

“If it falls, The Nexus falls with it. They’ve arrayed their heaviest defenses at the grid points, which is why evacuating the Meintre and retasking their grid point to us, though in relay, will save them having to fortify that position.”

“Do we have a route laid out?” Hightower asked.

“It won’t be coming to the ADZ, but since we have options of where to settle the Meintre we’ve had a chance to run probabilities,” Davis said when he highlighted four systems in the occupation zone, each of which was within 200 lightyears of the others. “There are the most geographically probable routes. There are others, but gravitational forces will reduce distance viability. The grid point will be our possession and not in a Meintre system, but they will have to be located adjacent to it.”

“And these other immigrants?” Vectir asked.

“The Sety have said that they will not be establishing civilian colonies, but rather work camps. Once the grid point network is extended to us they will be shipping in only essential workers and maintain that limited population. They want to make this a shipbuilding endeavor, not a colonial one. With the Meintre they don’t have a choice, their civilian population has to go somewhere.”

“Resources?”

“They procure their own from the surrounding systems, or via trade with us. I’ve already authorized the creation of two Kiritak colonies in the region for that purpose, low resource instigation. By the time The Nexus gets here they will be able to supply them, or us if an arrangement can’t be worked out.”

“Our primary feed is still the lizard campaign?” Karthen asked.

“Yes,” Davis said regretfully. “Even with the improved capture methods, we can’t divert resources away from those fleets until we clear out every single system. They’re still expanding so we can’t afford to get distracted. The coreward line is filling out on both sides, but combat there is light. We need to wrap up the rimward conquest before we can pour weight into the current dilemma…which is where you four come in. You’ve all seen the projections and offered analysis, now tell me the odds again.”

“It won’t be Star Force territory other than in name,” Hightower objected, referring to the proposed annexation of a mind boggling number of systems and dozens of new races…not counting the independents that they’d be honor bound to protect in the surrounding and intermittent regions, many of which Star Force would reach out to and incorporate into the empire in some form eventually. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

“I agree,” Vectir chimed in. “If we can’t pour our resources into even a single world, what is there for us to do? The Archons can work on incorporating them militarily, as they did with the H’kar prior to their inclusion, but on a logistics front we can’t synergize.”

“Some of them have meat farms,” Karthen pointed out.

“Those will be shut down,” Davis assured him. “In fact, there are already preparations being made within The Nexus to do so. The races in question that contacted me prior to this deal were already aware of our requirements and one of them had already changed over their food supply so to be more compatible. The same thing can be done with the others from afar, because they are willing. They’re not being sold to us, they want our help. They can see that The Nexus’s hold on smaller systems is slipping, and it’s only a matter of time before they have to pull back more and abandon some races to maintain their power centers. We have willing populations to work with, for the most part.”

“Who’s the ‘not so willing’ ones?” Hightower asked.

“The Neu and Wpet primarily, but I’ve already met with representatives from each and they realize the logistics of the situation. The Nexus is going to drop them one way or another, so it’s in their best interests to work with us. If they don’t they’ll have to fend for themselves, because as you well know we’re not going to be able to protect this new region, and I made certain they understood it as well. They stand poised to be eaten alive by dozens of small threats if true anarchy breaks out, and the Neu are barely holding onto a stable economy as it is.”

“If they are willing, then we can provide assistance via wisdom rather than materiel,” Dante suggested, “but only if they follow orders.”

“Orders that we can’t leverage them into,” Hightower added.

“The current doom on the horizon is the leverage,” Davis emphasized. “If they fail, they are destroyed in one form or another. The major predators aside, there are already mercenary and pirate factions picking off targets of opportunity within the region we’re going to get, let alone elsewhere in The Nexus. The intimidation factor they’ve bluffed with for so long is crumbling and factions are realizing they have more play than they previously believed. Though it wasn’t stated, I believe The Nexus is going to convulse in order to stabilize, and their trading us away this region is a preferable position to losing it outright. My gut says they’re going to abandon the weak and redraw firm lines around those they consider to be strong enough to assist The Nexus.”

“Betraying their oath,” Vectir pointed out.

Davis nodded. “And that alone is going to cause ramifications. We need to work this deal prior to that occurring and brace for the backlash when it does.”

“You need us out there, don’t you?” Hightower asked.

“Possibly,” Davis answered hesitantly. “I’m still considering options and want your input.”

“I’m assuming that if we didn’t get this deal, our situation would be worse?” Dante asked.

“We’re already seeing refugee traffic coming through H’kar space. If The Nexus convulses and even half these races are cut loose and fall apart…”

“Our best option is to be proactive,” Vectir agreed, stroking his bristly goatee. “Else we have to turn people away.”

“We don’t have enough supplies to cover this,” Karthen reiterated. “I don’t see how we work this problem without at least a nominal flow to build off of. I can send out feeder colonies of Bsidd, but you know it will take far too long for them to grow to the point of exporting, let alone in the massive amounts we need. A startup surge is required, and even with that we’ll be behind the curve.”

“Everything has to come from the local races,” Hightower said, nodding in agreement. “All we have to offer them is leadership.”

“Why aren’t we seeding all the empty worlds of value with Kiritak or Bsidd? Even if they’re just feeder colonies they need to get started sooner or later. What’s the point in keeping those worlds empty?”

“We don’t have the fleet strength to protect them,” Davis said dismissively, “and I don’t feel like gambling their safety on a bluff.”

“How long until we estimate we can end the lizard campaign?” Hightower asked.

“Not within the next century.”

The Arch Duke splayed both hands wide in a gesture of helplessness. “Then there’s not much we can do to help other than advise.”

“What’s our end goal?” Dante asked.

“Hold the line and digest our new acquisitions.”

Karthen laughed. “The latter will take forever even if we can manage the former…and that’s not counting all the neutrals involved.”

“Go big or go home,” Davis insisted. “I don’t see that we have a good choice other than tackling this challenge head on.”

“What happens if The Nexus does totally collapse and their primary races start fending for themselves?” Vectir asked. “We’re assuming they’re going to hold together in some fashion?”

“If the grid point system goes down, the distances involved will isolate us from most of what happens, but we’ll have our new neighbors to deal with regardless. Both the helpless and the predators.”

“There is one untapped resource,” Karthen noted, “and that’s the captured lizards. We’ve amassed a great deal of them by now. Is there a way we can put them to use without them backstabbing us?” he asked, looking at Davis, then Hightower.

“I’m not sure what exactly Paul’s relationship with Thrawn is, but if they’re reliable enough to do resource harvesting then there’s a possibility there,” he admitted.

Davis smiled. “They’re well beyond that, I assure you.”

Hightower raised an eyebrow. “What has he been up to this time?”

“They,” Davis corrected. “All of the trailblazer 2s have banded together in order to rework the lizards into Star Force,” he said, getting shocked reactions from the three Arch Dukes save for Hightower.

“I thought we weren’t annexing them?” Dante asked.

“We’re still not, in the traditional fashion at least. Their ten Clans are incorporating them…and yes, I think there may be a use for them in this.”

“Paul’s taking them with him into the…what are we calling this new region anyway?” Hightower asked.

“Good point,” he said, considering that. “We’ll just call it the Outer Region for now and subdivide as needed later.”

“Then Paul is planning on taking the lizards with him into the Outer Region?”

“He doesn’t know about this yet. None of the trailblazers do. I wanted your input before I brought it to their attention.”

“The timing sucks,” Dante said, offering his assessment. “We can’t even get the H’kar Nexus territory assimilated before this goes down. We’re going to have a very ill-defined border that needs some pillars of stability…and we’re not going to have the resources to build any in short order.”

“Recommendations?”

Hightower nodded. “The five of us are the only ones with enough experience at high volume logistics to prep us for what is going to be needed out there. Most of those races are the equivalent of the ADZ, if not larger. We can’t send Dukes with the trailblazers, we have to go ourselves and cross our fingers that we can find a way to make it work.”

“Not all of you,” Davis corrected. “I need Dante and Karthen to stay where they are. You’ve still got a lot of building to do and I need both of your factions operating at maximum growth. Other than myself, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to replace you without expecting a transitional inefficiency at minimum.”

“So Hightower and I will go,” Vectir agreed with a nod. “Possibly with our former Clan leaders?”

“No, you will not be going,” Davis said evenly. “You will be transferring to Sol and taking my place here. Hightower and myself will be going, and we’ll need replacements for Epsilon Eridani and Rotunna.”

All four Arch Dukes didn’t say a word, but their facial expressions were a mix of shock and concern…then they morphed into grim determination as they began to realize what was really at stake here.

“If we don’t make this work,” Dante finally said, “it’ll…”

“…invite a world of trouble on our rimward border,” Davis finished for him. “I know it’s coming, and though you haven’t been privy to all the intel I have, do any of you disagree with my analysis?”

“No, though I suspect it’s worse than even we think,” Hightower answered, with nods of agreement from the others.

“It’s probably worse than even I suspect,” Davis said gravely.

“We’ve got a powder keg waiting to blow,” Dante summed up.

“And half a lizard war to finish up,” Karthen added, “plus a coreward border to defend, Uriti to guard, the occupation zone to patrol, and the threat of the V’kit’no’sat hanging over all of that.”

“Which is why we have to send our best on both fronts, Monarch and Archon,” Davis said, looking to Vectir. “Sol is still the heart of our empire. Keep it growing, keep it producing, and use your best judgement. I’ll go through with you a set of personal notes I’m leaving behind, but once you take the reins this is your system to do with as you wish. Personalize it where you like so long as it doesn’t compromise efficiency.”

“When do you intend to be back?”

Davis shook his head. “Assume never. You have to make Sol your castle system now, just as your replacement will in Rotunna and your replacement will in Epsilon Eridani,” he said, glancing at Hightower.

“Those are our two strongest industrial bases by far,” Karthen warned. “Who are you thinking to replace Hightower?”

“I have a short list, but tell me first who you would recommend.”

The Arch Dukes glanced at one another, with Dante being the one to finally speak. “Carter controls the largest faction without an Arch Duke label,” he said, referencing the Kiritak, “but he has no civilian presence to work with. Given that this is a Human system, one of like would probably make the most sense to look for a transfer.”

“Or one from Axius,” Hightower suggested, knowing full well the varied races that had a diplomatic foothold in the system, let alone the Hycre who owned a planet.

“No one in particular jumps out to you?”

“I can list several that are capable, but no, no one stands out to replace me or Vectir.”

“That’s because no one is as good as you two, save for the other two Arch Dukes here that I cannot afford to reassign. Epsilon Eridani is on solid footing, with Rotunna still requiring a lot more vision despite being the lesser of the two, therefore we need the one with more skill in Rotunna and someone competent in Epsilon Eridani. Someone who will mimic what you’ve done and grow into the position rather than trying to change things up immediately,” Davis said, turning to Vectir. “Duke Rendar or Duke Blake for Rotunna?”

“Rendar,” he said without hesitation.

“Why?”

“He’s local and errs on the side of conservation slightly more than me. Exports might go down a touch, but Rotunna will remain solid in his hands. Blake is more of a wild card and hasn’t had to deal with Beta Region before.”

“Agreed then. Rendar will take over in Rotunna but without a promotion. That will follow if he proves himself capable of expanding on what you’ve done rather than simply maintaining it. As for Epsilon Eridani I have a suggestion, but you may nix it if you like.”

“A rookie?” Hightower guessed.

“To that level of system all possible candidates are rookies,” Davis pointed out, “though this one is more distant than others. What are your feelings concerning Duke Avril?”

Hightower frowned. “She’s in Axius, but to my knowledge has always dealt with lower level populations, Clan Stark included.”

“I’ve used her as a startup on several occasions. Don’t read that as a lack of confidence in her skills. What are your impressions otherwise?”

“I have none. I’ve never met her or dealt with her. How does startup work correlate to running my system?”

“It doesn’t. But she will come in with a cleaner slate than others due to that fact, and thus will be more inclined to follow your lead rather than assert her own style while she learns the ropes.”

“If you have confidence in her skills, I have no objection. You know the other Monarchs far better than I ever will.”

“I ought to. I appoint them all.”

“She also stays at Duke?”

“Yes. While many people are capable, no one else deserves the Arch Duke title as of yet. You four are head of your class, which is why I’m going to need your help to make this work…to give us a chance of making this work. Until we get a relay link established I’ll be out of communication a lot, so you three are going to have to look after more than your own assignments. Vectir has that primary task, but it’s not something I want him shouldering alone. Keep in touch with each other and get used to monitoring everything across Star Force territory and beyond. A new hobby for you to pick up in your spare time.”

“What exactly do you plan on doing in the Outer Region other than keeping it from falling into a shambles?” Karthen asked.

Davis glanced at Hightower. “Making it up as we go, but first we need to fill in the trailblazers and ultimately follow their lead. Where and how we build is going to be dependent on what they can protect.”

6

August 19, 3430

Krachnika System (Occupation Zone)

Michra

Megan swung Paul around a pillar in the Excalibur’s sanctum using a Bataf conduit, having it break with the line of sight being eclipsed, but she’d gotten him close enough that he was able to knock Emily off her sniper perch with a Jumat blast. Claiming that bit of ground, he pulled out a stun rifle from the flexible rack on his armorless back and poured fire down at the other members of Beta team, simultaneously freeing up Ivan and Randy from where Emily had been pinning them down behind cover.

A shot from the right hit Megan and she collapsed to a knee, for the stun charges had been deliberately set to slow rather than render unconscious, though enough hits in sequence would accomplish that…with the charm-like bracelet that they all wore slowly soaking stun energy out of their bodies to return them to consciousness or to clear laggy muscles. They could do it themselves if they had a moment to concentrate and purge their bodies, but in this 5v5 match in the somewhat confined course there wasn’t a lot of opportunities to hide, especially when everyone could sense everyone else’s presence through the cube-constructed mounds that provided terrain and Paul’s current vantage spot.

He had a line on Jason, who was on the opposite team, and he started peppering the area around his head with little stun packets of energy that forced his virtual twin down behind a barricade. Paul kept up the barrage while Jack moved through a vulnerable point cautiously. In his Pefbar, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack trip and float up as someone got a telekinetic hold on him. He broke it with a Rentar flash, but not before he got pelted with a couple of stun blasts.

He dropped down behind cover as Jason rolled out to the side and fired back at Paul with a pistol, but his aim was off and Paul got a single good shot on him, clipping his shoulder as he scrambled to new cover while futilely throwing shots Paul’s way.

The Saber smiled and continued to harass him while his teammates continued to reposition and start owning the course. A flurry of shots from Megan peeled Emily off her approach to climb up to Paul again, keeping him in the prime position as the challenge end lights flared red all across the ceiling.

Megan looked at him with a perplexed expression and he returned a shrug as he got to his feet and walked a few steps over the peak and looked down at the entrance to the chamber where a man in a naval Admiral’s uniform stood.

Paul threw his arms wide in protest. “In the middle of my backswing?!” he yelled down at him.

“Priority message from Earth,” Admiral Franken shouted back. “All trailblazers are to return immediately if possible for a summit. Davis’s recall order.”

What the hell is that about? Jason asked him telepathically.

We’re not the only ones with secret projects, Paul reminded him. “All of us, or all of us?”

“The message was sent to all 100. No further information was given.”

Something big then, Emily said as she hopped off a soft cube and dropped a couple stories down to ground level somewhere below Paul.

Any objection to us getting underway now? he asked all 9 of them.

Your ride is fine, Randy said. Just give me time to leave instructions before we jump out.

“Set departure time at 2 hours, Admiral,” Paul yelled down.

Franken nodded/bowed and turned to leave the 2s to their continued training, though none of them was in the mood as they all gathered at the base of the tallest mound.

“Anyone have an idea what’s going on?” Megan asked.

“Not lizard related if he’s calling in everyone,” Brian noted.

“If it was the V’kit’no’sat he’d tell us,” Jason said with a frown. “Sounds like he’s come up with another brainchild that he needs help with.”

“Or a problem to solve,” Emily suggested. “He wouldn’t need all of us there unless it required a lot of work that can’t be done by relay, and if he had a new idea one or two of us would be enough to vet it.”

“She’s right,” Paul agreed. “And I don’t think this is another trial. Something big is going down. Get orders to your fleets and I’ll handle Thrawn. Second gen can stand watch in our absence, but I want to get moving immediately. Most of the others are closer to Earth than we are.”

“On it,” Megan said as she headed for the door at a run a couple steps ahead of the others. They all followed piecemeal heading for comm stations so they could get orders out to their Clans insystem, with Paul sending a return message through the relay system telling Davis that they were on their way.

When they got back to Earth and down to Atlantis they were instructed to head not to Davis’s office or a briefing theater, but to a new chamber that had been repurposed into a bridge-like command center with numerous worktables and so many holograms set up above them and around the perimeter it looked like a Christmas festival when Paul and the other 2s walked in to find most of their peers and dozens of Monarchs split up into groups and running through mounds of data.

“About time you primadonnas showed up,” Morgan said, sporting a set of glowing facial tattoos that reminded Paul a little bit of a Protovic, though hers were few and far between and glowing Ninja Monkey red. “We need lizard data.”

“For?” Jason asked.

“We’ve got a worthy challenge to tackle,” Sara said, walking up to Paul and lightly punching him in the shoulder. “And we need to know how much they can contribute. The more the better.”

“What challenge?” Randy asked.

Rafa walked up to them and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Papa Smurf cut a deal with The Nexus to keep our border with them from disintegrating, but it’s going to double our current territory and have us annexing 21 of their member races and peacekeeping the surrounding regions.”

“What?” Megan asked, half laughing.

“I’m not a Smurf,” Davis said as he brushed past Rafa. “And the information here doesn’t leave this room. Sorry to keep you in the dark, but I don’t want word of mouth to spread and I needed you all here anyway. How we’re going to tackle this is a work in process, but we’ve got some of the leg work done already. We need to know how far you can press the lizards without it coming back to bite us.”

“What do you need them for?” Paul asked, trying to get up to speed as he glanced around the maps floating in the room.

“To do what they’ve been doing to us for centuries, only in reverse.”

“How badly outmatched are we?” Jason asked.

“We don’t have a fraction of the resources needed to do a proper annexation, so we’re going to have to rely on the local forces. They’re currently inadequate and the region is destabilizing. The Nexus is going to withdraw their support patrols to other regions, which will only make the matter worse. I’ve promised them that with Archon leadership we could hold on to the region, and in addition to other trades made they’re giving it all to us in the near future. I need some of the trailblazers to go there and take direct command of the Nexus members that are switching sides, some of which are as big as Star Force, and make better use of their fleets and resources than the Nexus can. Myself and Hightower are also going to support you.”

Emily half choked as he inhaled. “You’re going?”

Davis nodded. “We have to do this or the situation in The Nexus is going to destabilize and we’ll be in a far worse position. Right now, if we get involved early, we can use the locals to our advantage. If we wait they will crumble and we’ll have this region to deal with one way or another, not to mention a tsunami of refugee traffic that we’re already beginning to see a trickle of.”

“How bad off are they?” Jason asked.

“The Nexus will survive, but it’s going to have to shed territory to do it and anarchy is already breaking out in numerous spots across their territory. The idea is if we exchange this region they can take resources from it and apply them elsewhere to stem the instability.”

“What’s causing all this?” Emily asked.

“Attrition and races waking up to the fact that The Nexus isn’t as strong as they pretend to be. Some races have called their bluff and achieved victories that are emboldening others. It’s starting to snowball and territory losses are already beginning to happen, but it’s going to get a lot worse and force them into making bad choices. We need to grab the piece of The Nexus closest to us and lock it down, but we have very little of what we need to work with and we cannot delay the lizard campaign. That leaves us with what assets we can reposition to the region, and the biggest one available is…”

“…our lizards,” Paul finished for him.

“What can you give us?”

Paul exchanged glances with Jason. “That depends on what you need.”

“Assume we need everything.”

“Military is dicey,” Jason answered, “but used as builders we can spam them far faster than the Bsidd or Kiritas, and they can produce Star Force material using their own tech.”

“Can they construct our tech beyond mere parts?”

“Full cities?” Paul asked.

Davis nodded.

“No. They can do a lot of the work but we’ve still withheld certain aspects from them. There’s no depth of experience with our tech yet. Tell me what you need them to do and I can give you an estimate.”

“How trustworthy are they?” Rafa asked.

“The new ones are fully committed to our Clans,” Megan answered.

“And the others?” Davis asked.

“They obey Thrawn and the other masterminds,” Paul answered. “And they obey me.”

Jason coughed.

“More than others,” Paul reminded him. “They’ve accepted Archons as replacements for templars, but Thrawn and I have a special relationship.”

Hightower walked up next to Davis, both of which were wearing Arch Duke uniforms, for Davis had never gotten around to designing one specifically for the position of Director.

“How close are you to being able to unleash them with minimal or no oversight?”

“To fight?” he asked his former Marquis.

“To do everything.”

Paul mulled that over a moment as he heard Dan quietly swear behind him. “They can’t with the efficiency that we demand, not yet, but Thrawn is an experienced scrapper. If we have to make this up as we go there’s a possibility that we can do it without crossing into dishonorable tactics.”

“We’re going to have plenty of those to deal with,” Greg said as he joined the group along with pretty much everyone else in the room, “from the races we’re annexing. We can’t sideline them while we rework them, and I’m willing to bet the lizards you’ve got will be more reliable. The thing of it is those races are already in the hotseat and fighting, or soon will be, to save themselves. We’ll be aiding them as they fight, but bringing the lizards into a scenario not of their own making is what requires a careful analysis of where they stand and what they’re capable of.”

Davis looked carefully at Paul, saying nothing until he saw the Saber crack a devious smile.

“I like that look. What are you thinking?”

“Thrawn may not be indoctrinated into our ways, but he’s learned too much to go back to dishonorable tactics. He won’t sell out his people, but he won’t relent until he’s victorious…and this is just the type of challenge that he and the others need. They were bred for combat, and while the new growths are cutting their teeth on training challenges he and the other originals know a different training method that I’ve been trying to integrate into Star Force, but there’s no substitute for an actual war.”

Jason put a cautionary hand on Paul’s shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, but it depends greatly on what we’re up against. How powerful are the regional threats?” he asked Davis.

“Too many to categorize, but a lot of the instability is coming from small ones that there simply aren’t enough forces to task for. They’re able to operate with impunity while the patrol fleets go to counter the big threats.”

The 2s exchanged glances with each other, suddenly in agreement. “If we’re talking about secondary combat,” Randy said for them, “then our lizards will own them even if they’re not fully ready. It’s the fair fights that they can’t win yet without reverting to spamming tactics.”

“And Thrawn would if he had to,” Emily reminded Paul.

“He’d go down fighting,” Paul half agreed, “but he’s not going to be purposefully inefficient.”

“We don’t have a full system in place yet.”

“Thrawn used to fight with far less, and the masterminds are almost as good at adapting as we are…and more than that, they want to fight,” Paul said, facing Davis again. “If I go with them, I can give you a substantial force initially…a bit light on warships, but with the potential to snowball in growth if given the opportunity and attrition isn’t too high.”

“Good. That’s what we thought, but we needed to hear it from you to be sure.”

“How close to the existing lizard border are we going to get?” Jason asked.

“Not very,” Rafa said. “Your secret won’t get out if we’re careful about the transit, and we’re already cutting secure routes to Nexus territory.”

“When does this handover occur?” Megan asked.

“It’s far more than a handover,” Davis said. “Break up, each of you to a different group, and help us with lizard numbers while you get caught up. We’re all working different angles here and running as many theoreticals as we can before we decide on a plan of action. As for the timetable, we’ve got a couple years before anything big starts to happen, but I want Archons taking the reins of the local militaries before that if possible.”

“Paul,” Hightower said, motioning him towards one of the work tables.

“Jason, with me,” Davis said as the rest of the groups started grabbing a 2 to work with them. The Sangheili went with the Director over to one of the tables and saw a much more detailed map floating low over the tabletop that outlined the freakingly huge mass of territory in play along with what would become the new Star Force borders.

“Oh my god you’re crazy,” he whispered, soaking up as much information with his eyes as he could.

“Archons like a challenge,” Davis said as Lens, Nash, and Tyr returned to their positions around the perimeter of the table. “The Tolsoi are the strongest race that we’re getting and easily outnumber the Bsidd, but their strength is spread out into a lot of territory and their fleets even further trying to quell the nearest insurrections. We’re working out how best to utilize their strengths, but first, know that we’re eventually getting a grid point moved to this system and that The Nexus is going to be given these territories,” Davis said as he highlighted a tiny dot of systems back within the occupation zone that he had to zoom in on to bring any definition to.

“Whoa, what are they doing coming to us?”

“One of their major members, the Meintre, is losing territory. Given enough time they’ll fall entirely. Before that happens they’re going to evacuate as many of them as they can to this region along with a number of other major members setting up work zones where they can produce new fleets without worrying about their shipyards coming under attack. We’re providing security while they build and eventually send reinforcements back into The Nexus to help stabilize it.”

“While we’re left holding the bag for this entire new region?” Jason asked, aghast.

“But we get to keep it if we can hold it, and we get a grid point link into The Nexus that will benefit us both. Add on top of that the number of ships they can redeploy from guarding the Meintre grid point and suddenly they’re going to have more forces available than their enemies expect.”

“To slow the hemorrhaging,” Jason said, catching on. “Damn it, Davis. You’ve really dove in head first this time.”

“The alterative was worse in the long term.”

“And the reward is high if we can manage to pull this off,” Lens added. “We’ve been going through this for some time now and I can confirm there is no other way. The Nexus is crumbling. Without our help it may or may not fall, but the rubble it’ll leave behind will cause enough trouble on its own. Disaster is coming our way and the sooner we start managing it the better.”

“Not to mention the combined military forces of every race we’re annexing,” Tyr added, “are greater than the sum total of what we currently possess.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ship wise,” Tyr amended. “Quality is a separate issue.”

“That’s better,” Jason said, massaging his wrists in turn. “You do know how to keep us from getting bored,” he told Davis as a resigned smile crept onto his face. “Alright, let’s all dive in together. Bring me up to speed on what you’ve worked out so far.”

7

May 1, 3431

Krachnika System (Occupation Zone)

Michra

Paul’s dropship landed in the lizard city almost as soon as the Archon arrived back in the system. Thrawn had to hurry in order to get there before it, and when the boarding ramp lowered he saw an agitated Paul walked out towards him holding an object in his hand. The mastermind waited patiently until the Archon got to him, simply looking down at his hairy head while allowing the question to linger in his mind.

“Not something wrong,” Paul clarified. “Not with regards to you.”

“There is a fire burning in you regardless,” Thrawn pointed out. “What has happened?”

“Incompetent rulers.”

“Within Star Force?”

“No. Within The Nexus. They have overreached and now their empire is crumbling.”

“What have they done?” he asked, wondering about the Uriti Preserve.

“No, no,” Paul assured him. “They have done nothing to us. Our relationship with them grows stronger as they try to hold on to as much territory as they can, but even under the most favorable predictions they are going to lose parts in order to sustain others. Those regions that we now border near the H’kar are already destabilizing. We have struck a deal with The Nexus to cede us the entire region before it falls.”

“How large?”

Paul held out the device in his hand and a holographic map sprung to life between them with the relevant data. Thrawn looked at it carefully, not grasping the implications until his mind registered just how large the lines were indicating. He thought the map was of a geographical region in which the allotted territory was being shown…not that the whole region was the subject matter at hand.

“I am unaware of strength dispositions for half of those races, but if they cannot hold on to their own territory against other threats what can you do to help on that scale? I do not know your full strength but this appears to be an overreach on your part.”

“It’s a gamble. If we don’t act this region will fall anyway, then we’ll have to deal with the aftermath on our border that we’ve yet to firmly establish. Already we’re getting a trickle of refugees coming in and the major fighting hasn’t started yet.”

“Who is the aggressor?”

“There isn’t one, but many. A power vacuum that has been carefully hidden by The Nexus is being revealed and all manner of suppressed conflicts are arising.”

“Most of The Nexus’s territory is not their own. Their enemies are within their own borders?”

“Indeed.”

“Where did they err? You also have others within your borders.”

“I don’t know the full story, and I don’t think they’re interested in talking about it, but they’re getting hit in many places, and not all of them are small. The Meintre is under direct attack and losing territory. We predict that they will fall given enough time, so we’ve struck a deal to give them sanctuary in the occupation zone, not as part of Star Force, but behind the protection of our borders. They’ll transfer what population and equipment here that they can and begin rebuilding with the goal being to supply ships to help stabilize the rest of The Nexus. To that end several other Nexus members will be constructing worlds here where they do not have to worry about enemy reprisals. Our distance from the fighting is an asset they are going to exploit for their long term strategy.”

“And in return you get a crumbling region, small in scope to them, but massive potential gains for Star Force?”

“A lot of the races in this region had already made inquiries regarding joining Star Force previously. The H’kar were but the first addition, others would have come in time.”

“So they hasten the transfer in the hopes of stabilizing the link between The Nexus and Star Force.”

“They will also be moving a grid point link here.”

Thrawn frowned. “I am unaware of your reference.”

“A very advanced transit system that utilizes a stabilized magnetic field to make jumps off of rather than gravity. It requires specialized drives, but has massive speed and range gains. It is the reason why The Nexus has grown so large. If they lose those links their empire falls. The one connecting to the Meintre will be withdrawn and shuffled to another position, with another being bumped over to us…and we can’t build one, not without wasting a lot of resources. These things are planet sized,” he said, sending a mental image to Thrawn.

The lizard huffed in appreciation. “That answers some lingering questions our reconnaissance efforts never could.”

“Saving The Nexus is more than we can do, and even their rebuilding efforts in our territory are not going to be enough on their own. They’re part of a very large plan that we’ve not been given all the details to. I hope they succeed, otherwise the rim is going to turn into a very ugly place. No matter what happens, we’re going to try and secure this new region and establish a firm border there against whatever else may come our way. We can’t annex these races like we want, so we’re going to have to utilize them as they are, and do better than they’re doing with less resources. Nexus roaming patrol fleets are going to be removed to fight elsewhere, leaving us with only the local races’ fleets and whatever we can send, which isn’t much.”

“What of the current campaign?”

“It will not be delayed. It is our first priority.”

“What resources do you have left to send?”

“Archons to take the helm of our new allies and a scattering of small fleets. We’re going to have to use our guile to keep them alive long enough to build them up to the point where they can hold the line.”

“How dire is the situation?”

“The region is so large it will not fall quickly, but decay is occurring with a lot of small threats internally. Threats that cannot be dealt with because larger ones are pulling military forces to them.”

Thrawn looked at him silently for a moment, and Paul could feel the strategic wheels turning in his mind as he analyzed what little information the trailblazer had given him, but it didn’t take long for him to guess why Paul was here.

“You have no other armies to call upon…save for us.”

“We think we can stabilize chunks of the region without you. But to truly own it we need your help.”

Thrawn drew himself up to his full height and flexed his muscles. “What exactly do you wish of us?”

“The Clans will be taking the Paladin to the region, each being assigned a region to lay a seed in and grow into a peacekeeping force as they continue to make refinements in their technology, coding, etc. We know they’re not ready, at least not as much as we want them to be, but with regards to mainly being assigned defensive allotments and resource production they can serve a valuable purpose while other Clan resources take on the offensive operations, or lead them at least.”

Thrawn balled his fists up then flexed his fingers out one at a time in rhythm as he bled off long suppressed frustration. “It is long overdue. You were right in your prediction. Fate has given us a worthy foe. We did not need to go looking for one.”

“This isn’t the V’kit’no’sat we’re dealing with, but we are diving in over our heads. Normally we would be more prudent and chip away at the region gradually, but if we do that now most of it will be lost. We’re going all in to see how much of it we can save and turn to our own purposes.”

“What do you require of me?”

“Your efforts regarding the upgrading of the Paladin are hereby suspended. We may inquire occasionally, but the Clans will handle the remainder of the assimilation process. No, what I need from you is something more,” Paul said, with him feeling Thrawn’s anticipation at that promise. The Archon flipped over the holographic device in his hand, revealing that he had something else wedged underneath it.

Paul pulled out the small datachip and handed it to him. “This is something we worked up a while back, but we decided not to use it for a number of reasons. Your loyalty being one of them. We also think it will only work once, otherwise we would have found an application for it by now.”

“You were right to question my loyalty before. Now there is no need.”

“I know, otherwise I would not be giving you this.”

“What is it?”

“A trump card. When we analyzed the mastermind markers we found a flaw, or rather a backdoor access that your geneticists probably didn’t have the technology to understand, or maybe it just never came to their attention because they didn’t have a reason to look. It’s easy enough to counter with a rewrite, but given the current coding of the Li’vorkrachnika, there’s a way built in to override a mastermind marker with your own. And I need you to use it in an upcoming operation.”

Thrawn stared at the small device in the palm of his giant green hand, but his emotions were not what Paul expected them to be. Rather than seeing the obvious usefulness in the ongoing war against the lizards he felt sudden realization and growing dread, paralleled by a seeping anger that would never leave him.

“This is no accident, Archon. This is the Templars doing. I am certain of it.”

“We considered that, but the way the coding is it appears to be either an error or oversight.”

“No,” Thrawn said firmly. “They have some technology that they do not share. I’ve seen evidence of this before. If they wanted this to go undiscovered they would hide it in a way my scientists could not find. Just as they restricted our minds while telling us otherwise as a measure of control. I am certain that this is a way to circumvent our command if they should ever have the need. All orders flow through us, and if we wished we could betray them easily enough. I never even considered doing so, and I would highly doubt any other Li’vorkrachnika did, at any level. Obedience is bred into us. But I know the Templars did not think it absolute, else they would not have lied to me. This override is their doing, I am certain of it.”

Paul was silent a moment, rethinking that point. “It fits,” he conceded, “though the coding involved is by form if this isn’t accidental, and if they can do that intricate of genetic alteration then there are other concerns to consider. I’ll pass along a warning to our medtechs, but for our purpose it doesn’t matter if you’re right or not. They will find a way to undercut it once used, so we can only be sure of using it once.”

“Do you have a target?”

“All of them,” Paul said evenly, but he felt Thrawn twitch even though the lizard didn’t show it externally. “We’ll need more masterminds to take up control, but I intend to deliver your vassals to every single remaining lizard system rimward of the boundary line simultaneously. Any system that doesn’t fall under your control we’ll sweep up the conventional way, but we’ll no longer have to work our way around the existing masterminds. With this override we’ll take control of their minions on the planets under their feet, if I understand it correctly. Perhaps even them, because…”

“…we’re not immune it to,” Thrawn finished, with a fresh sense of betrayal bubbling up in him.

“I don’t know how well it’ll work on one of you, so I’m not assuming we’ll be able to turn the other masterminds. If we can capture them inert we’ll give them a chance to think it through, but honestly we don’t know how this will affect them.”

“What about the minions?”

“It causes your marker to trump any existing one, no more than that. It’s the interface with your specific coding that is new.”

“Can you eliminate this weakness within me?”

Paul smirked. “Also on that datacard, along with all our research into it…that you can understand. Our genetics technology exceeded yours a while back.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Thrawn said, grateful. He really didn’t like the idea of someone being able to pull his strings, including Star Force. Paul’s alliance with him was based on openness, and he could feel the relief of the lizard’s trust being rewarded, for he knew that Paul could have used this on him long ago to ensure his compliance, or on the other masterminds, and he had not. “This will theoretically end this war and allow us to move on to the bigger threat, if even marginally successful. How soon can we be ready?”

“Two, maybe three years. I’ve already got our scouts pushing hard to get a full list of Li’vorkrachnika systems and it’ll take time to get everyone in position. Plus we don’t have enough masterminds yet and I don’t want to use any that haven’t passed indoctrination tests.”

“Then we will keep the worlds and turn them into supply factories for the Clans?”

“No,” Paul said, shaking his head slowly. “The Paladins are already assuming control of several worlds and we will be cycling the original Li’vorkrachnika here. They’ll be providing their own resources while the current infrastructure that we will hopefully be claiming intact will be put to a much more immediate purpose.”

Thrawn considered that for a moment, then snarled as he thought he deduced the purpose. “We are going after the templars…beyond the border where you cannot.”

Paul held up an apologetic hand. “No, I’m sorry my friend. That is not what I meant. I want to go after them, and I’d like to see how you kick their ass, but fighting your kind with similar tech would be a bloodbath. I will not waste your lives like that.”

Thrawn’s mind jumped to the only other conclusion, but he didn’t state it out of uncertainty.

Paul nodded. “Yes. You and the others are going to be given a chance to fight on the rim. If you’re willing.”

“In what form?”

“What you know best. The Paladin are the future of the Li’vorkrachnika, but they are incomplete and untested. You and your kin are not. You are battle hardened. I need that strength and experience now. Not the dishonorable tactics, but you are not the same commander you once were. You are wiser now. Star Force troops will handle the major threats, take the hardest blows, but you and the others here, those that are about to be, with any luck, conscripted by your marker, and those yet to be grown under the older templates, will lock down the regions assigned to you and defend them against the small threats. I need your current strength and your capacity to multiply it far faster than the small number of Paladin can.”

Thrawn’s tongue flicked out into the air briefly, a gesture he had never used before in Paul’s presence. “The enemy will come to us?”

“The enemy will be everywhere. You will take the stars from them under my personal banner, and there will be losses. I am trusting in you to make sure they are not unnecessary ones as much as I am trusting in you to get the job done. I know there are many Li’vorkrachnika on this planet that were bred to fight and have been denied that. They are following orders outside their original task set, but they seek the chance to fight. I am supplying a worthy cause, and so long as you follow the tenets of honor, you and the rest will be able to do what you were born to do.”

“We will need to reproduce others,” Thrawn said, noting the obvious catch.

“When the Paladin are secured, you can start growing their templates. Until then you will use the originals or the modified ones you’ve created, per your discretion. I am holding you accountable for their actions, so make what adjustments are necessary, but as of this second I am authorizing you to refire the hatcheries at maximum capacity and I am returning all unconverted ring shipyards in all the captured systems to your command. If and when we roll up the rest of the Li’vorkrachnika systems, you will divert their raw materials to the shipyards and build me a force to replace and exceed in numbers what The Nexus is pulling out. I trust you understand the full implications of this?” Paul added sarcastically as he felt Thrawn’s emotions about to bubble over.

The mastermind threw back his head and roared, a combination of shriek and warble that Paul had never heard before, but it was lower in tone than the chirps the standard variants often used, and even if he couldn’t feel his emotions the sound alone would have been enough to get the point across.

Lizards all around stopped what they were doing and took notice, with many walking a short distance to peer around building corners or pop their heads up over the edge of crates to see what was happening.

When Thrawn’s head came back down he fixed Paul with a hard, but fiercely loyal stare.

“You are my superior in both skill and cunning, and have rescued us from misguided servitude, taught us the ways of the lightside, and have now given us a chance not only to fight, but to regain our honor through combat worthy of our ancestors. You are all that we believed the templar to be, and have given us a reality to replace a lie. We are yours to command, Paul, and we will fight to the last if necessary to accomplish the mission you are laying before us, and we will do so gladly knowing it serves a noble purpose.”

“Replace?” Paul asked with a smile. “I don’t seem to recall the templars ever fighting with you on the front lines?”

Thrawn smiled back, but didn’t say anything. Nothing more needed to be said. Both strategic wizards shared a silent glance then backed away from one another. Paul heading to his dropship and up to orbit to get Clan Saber kicked into gear, and Thrawn through the lizard cityscape with the marker override and a very important address to make to all the lizards in the system. No longer would they be sitting here building and waiting, prisoners of fate. They were about to return to the stars and into the action…and quite possibly come up against enemies far more powerful than any they’d faced before, aside from Star Force.

They might die in the years to come, but they would accomplish the missions Paul assigned them and gratefully so. The Li’vorkrachnika were built to fight and conquer, and now with an honorable and needed cause to do so, Thrawn was going to launch his small empire out into the galaxy once again and put to the test all that he’d learned from Paul and see for himself how it played out in practice rather than theory.

And if even half of it was true, the Li’vorkrachnika Thrawn commanded would become more powerful than any the templars still held their manipulative control over. And that in itself was going to be a form of very sweet revenge.

8

February 19, 3434

Jwen System (lizard territory)

Kie

The mastermind in charge of this system and four neighboring others was flying in an anonymous transport across the surface of the planet and passing over an uninhabited desert heading towards a cluster of suddenly rebellious colonies. They were claiming they had orders to stand down from sending offworld traffic, but he had sent no such order. After there was no resolution to be had via comm and the insubordinate minions would not budge, he suspected a larger problem at hand and was traveling there to deal with it in person when a flurry of thoughts swept through his mind.

He didn’t realize what was happening at first, then realization dawned on him. Somehow he was receiving a marker packet of information. It must have been delivered to the planet previously, having spread through the rebellious colonies first, and only now was finally taking effect here…yet he was receiving the information as well? That was not supposed to happen, but the impetus in the knowledge was clear.

No offworld traffic.

His gut told him to follow the command and others that were seeping into his consciousness, but his intellect told him something was amiss. His kind didn’t take markers, they created them, and along with the markers came the identification of who the marker was from, but he couldn’t feel any with this. It was a string of instructions, priorities, and eventually one that was for him specifically.

He was certain of that, but how one would code an order for a mastermind into a mastermind marker was something that he was not aware of. None the less it was here, and it was ordering him to a set of coordinates.

Was this the Templars’ doing? Did they finally find a way to pierce the divide between these systems and their coreward headquarters? And what did they need him to reposition on this planet for?

The mastermind consulted with the pilots of the craft and determined the location of the coordinates…an uninhabited stretch of grassland in the northern hemisphere. Upon closer inspection he saw that there was a single ship registered in the tracking grid as having landed there a few days ago. It had done nothing in that time that was recordable, but it matched the coordinates pounding in his mind precisely.

“Take us there,” he ordered, then retreated back to his empty cabin as he thought. This was a marker, but how his physiology was accepting it made no sense. He didn’t have the receptors for it, but all the data suggested that this was the culprit of the rebellious minions…yet that didn’t make sense unless the templars had a way of overriding his marker. Another mastermind could, simply substituting the new for the old, but the minions would acknowledge the change and identify their commander. His rebellious ones were claiming that he was still in command and had given them orders to the contrary. Orders through markers could not be overridden via comm, and as such he had to be careful when constructing marker orders so not to end up in a situation such as this, but he could always write a new marker to solve the problem…except this one seemed to be affecting him as well.

If the ship was the source of it then it had been here longer than a few days. Markers took time to spread and were deliberately accelerated when one was announced to have arrived, but there was no such message that had made its way to him. Extra security for a Templar order? That was possible, but it would suggest that Star Force was already monitoring them on this planet and the front lines were more than 600 lightyears away. He wasn’t expecting the war to get here for at least another century, but then again his fortifications were well and above those that other systems in the region had, so maybe they were going to target his before the others.

He had too many questions and nothing but speculation to work with, but he continued churning the matter over in his mind until the transport eventually reached the coordinates and landed next to the downed cruiser. The mastermind did not attempt to make communication through the comm grid, just in case it was being monitored, and walked out of the transport alone and across the stretch of grass to a ramp on the underside of the cruiser that had already lowered.

He scaled it, looking into a cargo bay with a double line of lizard standard variants waiting for him leading up to a small sealed chamber no bigger than a few cargo crates but easily large enough to hold a Templar and himself. The mastermind got halfway through the gauntlet when suddenly his eyes blurred and he lost his balance, falling to a knee as he tried to right himself, but a moment later he blacked out and fell the rest of the way to the floor with a muted crunch. The lizards flanking him didn’t move, holding their ceremonial position as the door on the chamber opened and a figure in black armor walked out and looked down at the mastermind.

“Damn, that was easy,” the Archon striker said. “Are you sure he’ll be the only one on the planet?”

“He will be the only one in the system,” another mastermind said, stepping out of the chamber behind him and looking down at his peer. “There is no need for two here, therefore there will not be two.”

“Alright, I’m good with easy. Just don’t see why we didn’t do this a long time ago.”

“Because,” the mastermind lectured him with a mix of respect and disdain, “in a few moments I will be out of your custody and in command of this system with no Star Force blockade in place. I will be able to send a message via the interstellar communications network or via courier to other systems and even back to the templar on the other side of Star Force territory if I wish.”

“Riiight,” the striker said slowly. “You’re not going to do that, though.”

“No, but until now we’ve not been entrusted with such a responsibility. I will acquit mine. You have my word on that.”

“Word taken. The system is yours.”

The mastermind huffed and walked down through the gauntlet of standard variants, passing by his unconscious peer a moment before the escorts turned as one and began walking beside him in flanking positions down the ramp and holding the formation until they got to the transport.

“Come on sweetie,” the striker said as he bent over and lifted the heavy lizard onto his shoulders and carried him back to the small chamber. “You’re mine now.”

A few minutes later the transport and the cruiser lifted off, heading in different directions, with the latter heading up to orbit in violation of the stand down order but with no one interfering with their transit. They rendezvoused with a jumpship near the system’s central star and subsequently left the system, leaving nothing but the loyal mastermind behind to ensure this dot on the starmap switched sides.

When the unconscious mastermind awoke he found himself in a Li’vorkrachnika facility and not onboard the cruiser that he last remembered. In his mind was a flurry of additional thoughts all trying to gain dominance as what had to be more marker commands manifested themselves. He still did not know how such a thing was possible, but once the storm of updates sorted itself out he knew he had a new mission which began with moving through the closed door of the closet that he had been dumped in and out into a maze. It was some form of test, and he knew that even before he stood up and pressed the button on the wall…

The door slid open and an alarm sounded, with him suddenly realizing he was racing the clock and if he didn’t move now he’d risk failing whatever test this was. He didn’t have time to stand here and think, so he moved on instinct, trusting the marker and what he guessed was a Templar machination despite the parts of his mind saying otherwise, and dove into the maze of corridors, barricades, and crawlspaces.

For the next few days he would be kept on the move, only able to think in short blocks of time and forced to react in all other cases…so much so that he never got around to considering the possibility that he might be a captive and should kill himself, especially with a strong marker imperative that he had to stay alive pounding in his head.

Throughout the maze, which was massive, the mastermind was rewarded with food and other provisions when he solved puzzles and stayed ahead of the clock, which was locking down portions of the maze behind him on a regular schedule. He couldn’t sleep or he’d fall behind and be trapped, but he was able to push far enough ahead at times to grab small bits of rest, in which he didn’t have the luxury of thinking. He had to use every second to his advantage, and after several days he was so tired he couldn’t think during those respites, standing up so he didn’t fall completely asleep, but recovering enough to keep himself moving.

Aside from supplies, every now and then he’d come across a tiny data packet of some seemingly unimportant information from elsewhere in the Li’vorkrachnika empire. The first four he got he couldn’t divine the purpose of, but by the time he got the fifth he was able to identify a pattern. There were anomalies in all of them. Subtle anomalies that suggested things were not as they were supposed to be. Technology present in some systems but never released to others. Projects identified but never given access to those that would need them. Capabilities that the Li’vorkrachnika possessed but that not all the masterminds had access to. Tiny things such as that that were the Templars’ prerogative, but the sixteenth bit of data he recovered forced him to think through his haze and suddenly his intellect shot into overdrive as he divined the overarching thread.

This bit of data stated that there was a difference in the genetic coding of the masterminds themselves than they’d been told, specifically regarding mental blocks, of which he should have none. In a flash of inspiration he connected the dots in all of the other bits of data and realized that there was one undeniable trend.

The Templars had lied to him.

But that made no sense if this was a Templar test. Were they questioning his loyalty?

He didn’t know, but the maze didn’t give him time to sit and think, constantly forcing him to move and solve new puzzles just to stay ahead of the locking wall segments that would trap him behind them if he slowed his pace or got stuck on a puzzle for too long, but the question still echoed in his mind off and on when he had a moment to think about it.

Had the Templars really lied to him, or was this data fictional?

Days, or perhaps weeks later, the mastermind entered a new portion of the maze only to black out again. When he woke he was in a different area…along with hundreds of other masterminds, each of which was waking on an identical podium such as his, raised a few inches off the floor. He swatted a hand out through the perimeter and did not detect a shield there, meaning he wasn’t being constrained, but he stayed on his podium just as the others did as they stood up and looked around.

“Did they lie to us?” another mastermind’s voice said as he rose up from below the floor in the center of the room. “The information given to you is genuine and came from my own records. The orders to bring you here came through a marker system the templar wove into us that I discovered and repurposed to draw you out. It also kept you from killing yourselves once you discovered you were in captivity. Now I ask you plainly. Have they lied to us?”

“You brought us here?” one of them closest to him asked.

“With help, yes. The templar have abandoned this region of the galaxy while they build up their forces in the coreward territories, not to come to our aid or even evacuate us. They left us here to fight and die and cause as much trouble for our enemies as possible. We have been discarded, so now I ask you, are we serving a purpose in our inevitable deaths, or were we betrayed?”

“Do we truly have neural blocks like the minions?”

“Yes, we do. And it has taken me quite some time to work through mine. I believe my mind is clear now, but I can never be completely sure.”

“If that is true, then they did lie,” the other mastermind admitted.

“Which brings us to the question of why. We are loyal to them, so why lie to us about anything? If there is something they do not wish us to know then simply do not tell us and instruct us not to ask. There is no reason to deceive us.”

“What else have you discovered?” another one asked.

“That we are susceptible to genetic markers, as a backup method of control, implemented by the templars in secret. If anyone doubts that, then explain why you are here. I used their control to bring you out of hiding and to collect you. I could have used it to kill you if I were a traitor, but I am not. I have done so to give you the chance to see what I saw and piece it together. The maze you came through was that method, and if you are as intelligent as I am you should have seen the patterns in the data. Take a calm moment now to review them if you wish,” he said, activating holographic pedestals at each of the pillars that gave the masterminds access to all the previous data and more. And thanks to the imperatives placed in their markers they were inclined to follow his orders, though a few were visibly withdrawing and stepping back, wanting no part in this.

“This is no trick,” he assured them. “Look through the data and tell me that I am wrong.”

“He’s right,” one of them said, almost a whisper, “and we all know it.”

“This is a trick,” one of the dissenters said, now all the way off his podium and starting to roam between the others looking for something, anything beyond the smooth walls that surrounded the chamber allowing no one in or out.

“A trick designed to get you to think,” the mastermind in the center admitted. “I too was tricked when captured. Tricked into not killing myself until I saw enough data to get me curious. That trick has been played on you now. Take your time, analyze, and tell me if I am wrong.”

“Tricked by who?”

“A former enemy that has proved himself to be of superior intellect. Where the templars have left us to die, he has gone to great effort to keep us alive. As of now, I have used the marker override the templar secretly created to usurp any and all commands you have given your minions. They now answer to me and only me. Those of your worlds that were about to come under Star Force attack will not. The lives of our people will no longer be wasted. As of now, all the remaining Li’vorkrachnika worlds rimward of Star Force territory now belong to me.”

“You have aligned with Star Force?”

“They saved me and the rest of you. The data before you now is just the beginning. There is much more, but you are not ready to see it yet. You have blocks in your mind that you must first overcome. They cannot be medically removed. You have to use your intellect to fight past them, and that is not a quick process. I have given you much to help in that process. Things that I did not have access to. But it will be a struggle, that I can guarantee you.”

“Traitor,” one of them hissed.

“Am I? Know that the marker given to you could be configured to order all the minions to kill themselves. Star Force wouldn’t have to fight any more of our worlds, they could just have ordered them all to commit suicide. Instead they have preserved all of you through me. I am no traitor. If the templars told the truth I would fight to the death to defend them and their cause…but they lied to us. Far more than you realize.”

“What have you done?”

“For some time now I have been confiscating worlds beyond your reach using my own marker to avoid Star Force invading them. Those Li’vorkrachnika have been evacuated to the Krachnika System, which after a long period of my gaining Star Force’s trust, is now back under our command.”

That shocked the masterminds, with some of them not taking him at his word.

“You’ve reclaimed the homeworld?”

“Yes. Something the templar could not do. I did it by proving my intellect by finding the truth. You have the data before you. Do not ignore it. If you do you are inferior. There is no trick in this. See it for what it is or do not. If you wish to kill yourself go ahead. I have tricked you into staying alive long enough to partially think this through, as I was tricked into doing the same long ago when I was captured then released. I almost killed myself on release, but curiosity won out and I started thinking…”

Just then one of the lizards not on the pedestals roared as he tore into his own throat with his claws, with another two following suite. They did not die fast, but they did bleed out not long after and collapsed to the ground unconscious where their lives would eventually fade away in silence.

“Witness one aspect of the betrayal of the templars,” he said, gesturing with disdain at the dying lizards. “They command us to die when our supposed enemy keeps us alive. If you wish to join them you may at any time. We will not revive you, though the Archons possess that technology. If you wish to die you may, but know that Star Force has already gotten all the relevant information from my mind, so there is no security risk from you, and no reason not to analyze the data fully before you kill yourselves. If you are as intelligent as we were designed to be, you will begin to see the truth…at which point I will show you the rest of it.”

Thrawn stepped down from the center and walked to the closest of the dying lizards as the pool of blood continued to expand. He knelt next to him but did not touch as he bowed his head in a mixture of sadness and respect.

“This is the true betrayal brothers, and a waste, for we are needed now more than ever. A far greater war is on the horizon, and we are ill equipped to combat it.”

“Against who?” the nearest mastermind on Thrawn’s right asked.

“The Nexus is collapsing,” he said as if that was answer enough, but he knew it wasn’t. “There is much you do not know, but your choice is simple. Open your minds and search for the truth, or close your mind and follow the standing orders of the templars and end up like them, for you are prisoners,” he said, slowly standing up. “I have secured the lives of all Li’vorkrachnika abandoned by the templars to certain death, including your own. They will obey me because they have been bred to do it. You have been bred to follow the templars, but your intelligence is too formidable to simply comply. You have, and always have had, a choice. That is why the templars deceived us, as you will learn if you analyze the data further.”

“If we refuse and likewise refuse to kill ourselves, what then?”

“You will remain a prisoner for as long as you remain ignorant, but you will not be killed, and all of you will have a chance to earn your freedom. You cannot be trusted now, just as I wasn’t in the beginning. The neural blocks take time to work through, but if you do you may join me in our new crusade. If not, I will simply make more to replace you. You are valuable, but not necessary. I have brought you here out of respect, to give you a chance to see the truth as I did, but you do not hinder Star Force’s plans by resisting. You are completely irrelevant, but Star Force does not give up on people, as I have learned. In fact, if it were up to them, they would be recovering these three and reviving them, giving them multiple chances to see the truth and learn from their mistakes…but I will not. I have given you sufficient time and information for you to begin to see the lies the templars have ensnared us with. If you are too stupid to recognize and adapt, then you are inferior and do not deserve the station you have been bred for.”

Thrawn looked around at the other masterminds, none of which were moving to kill themselves or rush him in a rage of betrayal. They were thinking, but this was going to be a long process.

“Take your time. There is no rush for you, but soon I must leave to take command of our people and ready them for war. After that you will have to figure things out on your own. Until then, ask whatever questions you wish so I can accelerate your thought process.”

9

March 31, 3435

Uyit System (Rim Region)

Orrpwer (Tolsoi capitol)

Two Star Force drone destroyers floated in the air above the Tolsoi capitol, hovering just beyond the buildings and well within the planetary defenses as hundreds of Bsidd aerial fighters choked the sky in a pack around a series of dropships heading down to the designated landing zone. Beyond them were Tolsoi aerial craft on display, keeping a respectful distance, but massing in the thousands like a gauntlet as the dropships came down through them and landed between the statue-like guardian towers that poked up into the sky beyond the rest of the Tolsoi buildings.

When the dropships touched down there were likewise hundreds of thousands of people in formation, all unarmed but fully uniformed and filed into ranks outlining a narrow path from the landing zone to the governmental buildings where the Tolsoi leaders were waiting. The whole planet was waiting, not only for this official ceremony of allegiance transfer from The Nexus to Star Force, but waiting to see what hope the Human-led empire could offer them. Even now Nexus fleets were beginning to pull back from what had been officially labeled as the ‘Rim Region’ and redeployed elsewhere, leaving the area even more vulnerable to predators and unrest.

The Tolsoi people had been watching Star Force from afar for quite a long time, but with ever more scrutiny now that the H’kar had joined them and were in the process of altering their civilization to fit the Star Force mold. Most noticeable of all had been the change in their military. Once a barely adequate force, they’d become respectable and almost efficient during the war against the Li’vorkrachnika and did not try to hide their successes. Since the H’kar empire had officially joined Star Force, the Archons had been in full command and effectively locked down H’kar territory in the Rim Region against raiders and malcontents. They had not added much firepower to their fleet, barely a scattering of Star Force vessels, but the way they used the standing H’kar fleet had changed, as had the results. The Tolsoi knew there would be a remaking of their entire civilization over the coming centuries, but they were hopeful, even desperate in some systems, to get the immediate power surge that was reputed to come from Archon command.

And they were here now, standing behind the ranks of soldiers in a crowd that stretched for miles. The bipeds were packed tight, with most unable to see the landing zone, but all of them could see the two Star Force warships overhead and the arrival of the dropships. When they disappeared down into the city vid screens allowed the crowds to see what was happening, playing all over the metropolis, planet, and system…with copies to go out to every other system in Tolsoi territory. This was the biggest moment in their history since joining The Nexus, and while that had gained them much, they hoped this allegiance would permanently solve their security issues along with a number of other still lingering problems. No one knew for sure what was going to happen, but they were all watching and waiting for a glimmer that their hopes weren’t in vain, for they could see the news reports about what was happening elsewhere in The Nexus and they knew they were in danger.

The Tolsoi were the pillar in this region and it had been their responsibility, with exterior backing, to maintain this sector. They had failed for the most part due to too few resources that had continuously been pulled away to more pressing matters. The Tolsoi fleet was considerable, but not well outfitted for protecting more than its own borders, and even that was difficult enough to maintain. Intimidation had allowed them to scare down many local problems, but now that The Nexus was visibly losing fights that intimidation factor was significantly threatened.

Star Force, on the other hand, was winning a very long war against the Li’vorkrachnika and adding territory to its domain…not losing it. Their reputation alone could solve some problems, but they’d have to back it up with action else the chaotic fervor running through the Rim Region would continue to escalate into unknown proportions.

The Tolsoi were not only in a position of failing to defend their neighbors, but also facing the very real chance of a major power moving to challenge them, most notably the not too distant Zargor, whom they’d fought four different wars with prior to joining The Nexus when it expanded into this region.

Now The Nexus was leaving and the Zargor were already reported to have struck at several of their former holdings.

The insanely powerful alliance that had once been the Tolsoi’s salvation was now crumbling, with ‘less important’ regions being abandoned to preserve the valuable ones, else the founding members might be in danger of falling as well. The Tolsoi understood what was happening and did not fault The Nexus for doing what it had to in order to keep some of itself intact, but such a measure broke the promise made long ago and even if they somehow made a miraculous comeback the breach had already occurred. The Tolsoi’s faith in The Nexus was gone, but their hope for surviving this unfolding nightmare now lay in Star Force and what they’d be able to accomplish with the Tolsoi adding their strength and resources to the Archons’ command.

There was literally no one in Tolsoi territory that did not, or would not, see this arrival unless they deliberately chose not to. For in the coming days it would be the single data point that they would all be focused on, and as the Star Force dropships cracked open their boarding ramps Greg could feel the anticipation in the alien crowd even before he saw them.

“Packed house,” he commented to Davis who stood beside him as the ramp lowered and slowly gave them visibility on the sea of monkey-like bipeds that were the newest addition to their empire. “Can you feel that?”

“Hard not to,” Davis said as the ramp finally touched the ground and the pair walked off with a number of others following. They were soldiers and techs and administrators that would be necessary to interface with the Tolsoi leaders in every capacity, but the pair were the only Archons onboard this dropship. There were a few more scattered throughout the others but they all offloaded behind his, allowing the Director and trailblazer to lead the procession out, which followed them a few paces back in a narrow line that headed for the gauntlet of Tolsoi ahead.

Greg wore his ViLord armor while Davis wore his ranger green, but they both had their ID markers visible to the Tolsoi comm network so they knew who they were. The telepathic surge Davis was getting from the crowd was overwhelming, but it spiked when the pair of them became visible on the monitors as they walked with a quick rhythm into the start of the long, narrow strip that would eventually lead them to the headquarters they would be using in the foreseeable future, but the Tolsoi leaders had obviously wanted this long promenade walk, for there were no waiting vehicles to carry them.

That was fine with Davis, for he was an Archon and this little hike wasn’t a big deal. Even the techs behind him wouldn’t find it too much of a problem, but when their presence finally filtered through the mostly silent crowd a noise began somewhere in the back. He couldn’t make out what it was, but suddenly his telepathy spiked so much he had to block it out as the chant reached them.

“Yarmeblo! Yarmeblo! Yarmeblo!” they repeated with such fervor that it gave Davis goosebumps. His helmet translator told him the word meant ‘ass kicker’ or ‘slayer’ or ‘warlord.’

“Guess that’s for you,” Davis commented as they continued walking side by side with only a couple of meters separating them from the perfectly aligned Tolsoi on either flank that stood about even with the Humans’ shoulders.

“For us,” Greg corrected. “I’m the field commander, but you’re the guy in charge of it all. They want someone that can win wars to lead them, and we’re a team. They know that, as well as the fact that there are 100 of me, but only one of you.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Davis mocked as the crowd continued to chant without end. Even those closest to the Star Force procession were whispering the words while maintaining their rigid pose. “This is a nice change from having to fight our way in.”

“Totally,” Greg agreed as he scanned the faces and minds of those on his left. All of them had brown hair covering their petite bodies, but there were subtle variations. Their minds, however, were a wide mix of shock, awe, pride, hope, fear, anxiety, and just about any emotion other than despair. They knew this wasn’t the end. They weren’t safe. But a change was happening and they’d have to see it through to know how it would turn out, and these beside him were getting a front row seat for this portion of it.

“I’m surprised by the sudden change. The Tolsoi never contacted us prior to this deal. Unless they had secretly wanted to join and didn’t want to risk causing trouble with The Nexus, this adoration seems out of place.”

“You’ve been on Earth too much. When your back is to the wall and someone comes to your rescue, you can make lifelong friends very fast.”

“Are you sure that’s what we have here?”

“Just feel it,” Greg urged him.

“It’s a little too much for me. I’m having to block a lot of it out.”

“Don’t try to draw from the group then. Focus on one or two minds in the front row as we go by.”

“I’m trying, but can’t seem to manage it. The sound is deafening.”

“You’re stuck in a loop. You need to disengage. These guys aren’t telepathic, so they’re not transmitting to you. You’re drawing it from them and it’s hitchhiking on your other senses.”

“I figured that much, but knowing it does no good. All I can do is numb most of it out.”

Greg sighed. “Well, you are just a ranger.”

“I’ll add it to my ‘to work on’ list. Just tell me if this sentiment is genuine or mob inspired.”

“Mob enhanced, but it’s genuine. They’re not looking at us as contract workers, they’re looking at us as superiors they want to welcome as well as impress. That’s why they’re holding ranks so tightly.”

“My sense is they’ll do whatever we ask?”

“Spot on. So long as whatever it is works. They’re eager to get into the grind, and I can sense an instinctual drive similar to the Kiritas. These guys don’t like to sit on the sidelines and watch. They want to be in the action, even if it’s in the smallest of ways.”

“Action? What do you think their response would be if we sped up?”

Greg smiled beneath his helmet. “Just you and me?”

“Yeah. They can get a close up look at them. Let’s remind them that we’re warriors and all.”

Greg hesitated a second before replying as he relayed the order to the others behind them. “Done. Set the pace and I’ll match.”

“Nothing too fast,” Davis said as he leaned forward slightly and accelerated up into a light run. Greg matched him precisely, keeping their shoulders aligned with one another as the Tolsoi around them flinched as the pair zoomed forward, but within a few seconds the chant changed. It was a garbled mix until they all got in sync, then it became not so much a word as a song they were singing…or more accurately shouting at the top of their lungs.

“Any idea what that is about?” Davis said as they ran forward, with Greg even mimicking his strides so they stepped in sync.

“We lead from the front,” the trailblazer summarized. “But if you want an analogy, here’s one for you.”

A moment later a song of his own began to play across Greg’s private comm channel, with Davis recognizing the Rocky training montage from the recommended Archon playlist.

“Appropriate,” he deemed as they continued to run on towards the stairs in the distance that led up to the giant doors where the Tolsoi leaders were waiting for them. The pair gradually picked up the pace as the music kept playing in their helmets and the pounding of the alien version lit up the planet outside as they took in the moment and continued running in sync.

10

May 30, 3435

Delorean System (Zeta Region)

Flux

Torgon walked off the dropship with his duffle of personal items wedged between his right two arms along with a mix of other Axius troops returning home from the lizard front. He was the only Calavari in this load but many more dropships were emptying the jumpships in orbit that had been their home for longer than he could remember. The warfleet was still partially deployed to the region keeping an eye on the recently surrendered systems, but there was no longer a need for massive amounts of ground troops so they were cycling back to the ADZ for training assignments…or in Torgon’s case, some badly needed time off.

He wasn’t quitting, per se, but the commando had designated himself as ‘inactive’ once they arrived back. That meant he wouldn’t be assigned another mission and would be free to train individually as needed, but in his case he just needed to get away for a while. Fighting and killing lizards had been his life ever since Star Force had pulled him off his original homeworld back before his race had joined the empire. He’d owed them a debt and had been in the first batch of Calavari trained by Star Force and sent back out to fight the lizards as they were still tearing down the old Calavari civilization. But now half of those lizards were on their side while the other half towards the core were still bitter enemies.

Star Force had made it clear that they weren’t pursuing the lizards past that line and had made a point of marking it clearly and extending outposts all the way up and down to the edges of the galactic plane. The lizards could spread so fast they could be chasing them forever if they kept going after them, but Torgon had mixed feelings about that. They all needed to die, but he was glad that the war had finally come to an end. The lizard capitol and core worlds had been conquered, every last bit of their original territory was now in Star Force hands, the Calavari had all their worlds back and then some. He’d done what he’d originally set out to do, and if the lizards wanted to rebuild from scratch elsewhere then part of him said just let them go while another part said the fight still wasn’t finished.

But Star Force had made the call and that had settled that. He’d expected to be fighting at least another hundred years to purge the rimward half of lizard territory, but the sudden surrender of all the remaining systems had put a quick end to that. Furthermore, it was said that they’d not only surrendered, but been commanded to by a lizard mastermind who had been working with Star Force for some time now, and if that was true it was ironic beyond all reasoning.

The treacherous little bastards who would fight to the death rather than surrender had just surrendered en mass because they’d been ordered to do it. At least a thousand systems, all up and surrendered before Torgon and his fellow Axius ground troops could get at them. The Calavari hadn’t been expecting that, but now that it was suddenly over he felt himself in a far greater need of rest than he’d previously thought.

So when he got off the dropship he headed for the civilian part of the city and found his newly assigned quarters. They were larger than his last set, with four different rooms and plenty of space for one person. Yet another upgrade that he’d earned through his long years of service.

He laid his personal bundle down on the bed and looked around, getting himself acquainted with what would be home for a while and sensing a bit of anxiety. He walked back to the door and locked it, then went back into the bedroom and sat down. The bed didn’t feel right, so he slid off it and sat on the floor wedged between it and the wall and pushed his back up against the other wall and pinned himself in the little nook there.

There had been so many lizards on the worlds they’d invaded that he’d just tuned it all out, and now, back in Axius, there were so many people around him…but in these quarters he couldn’t see them, or hear them, or smell them. It was as if he was completely alone on the planet, and that emptiness was doing a number on his head. It was like he had been holding onto and suppressing a lot of old wounds that were now finally being released to breathe.

So much killing. Endless killing. Torgon was a warrior even before being rescued by Star Force, and killing had never bothered him so long as it was justified, and with the lizards it most certainly was, but there was so many of them and it never ended. Kill a million and they’d just grow more to replace them.

Victories had not been in kill counts, but in territory taken. Conquer a system and they couldn’t repopulate it. Take a continent, a city, a building…it was all the same, and paid for in a very high price of blood on the enemy’s part, along with some painful losses of their own. He’d known several commandos who’d died after coming through hundreds of missions unscathed, then would get blindsided by bad luck compounded with a circumstance or a scenario where they couldn’t get them back to a medbay to be revived.

It didn’t seem fair, and it wasn’t. Dying because you made a mistake was one thing, but dying because of bad luck…it still didn’t sit right with Torgon, but he’d made it through and the war that he’d devoted his life to was now done and over with. Unless of course the coreward lizards got stupid and tried to breach ‘The Line’ as it’d come to be called. If they did that he’d be right there again as needed, but he didn’t think that was going to happen. Especially not with a couple of Clans poking the lizards in the gut and drawing attacks against them while claiming a new system here and there just to remind the lizards that they weren’t cozy neighbors.

He’d thought about requesting transfer to either the Ninja Monkeys or the RaSeru, but after thinking it through he realized there wasn’t a need. The war he’d been fighting nearly his entire life was over, and he and Star Force had been victorious. The unbeatable lizards had been kicked out of their own territory and those who would never surrender just had…and were now working for the Archons, apparently. He didn’t question the arrangements they’d make, for their wisdom and loyalty had been proven time and again. Whatever they did with the surrendered lizards, the lizards had no chance of manipulating them, so he knew that front was a done deal.

The previous lizard territory now belonged to Star Force, and both he and the Calavari had escaped annihilation only to be reborn within the Humans’ empire and were now prospering beyond even what they’d achieved prior to the first scaly green head appearing on the frontier.

Which was why, he thought, that he was feeling things now that he hadn’t before. As if the emotional toll was now racking up and he was having to decompress. He felt like hiding, and his little nook on the bedroom floor seemed like a good place to ride this out. No one was going to bother him here, for no one knew he was here. Axius was so huge you could see strangers day in and day out without ever getting to know them, and everyone gave each other enough breathing space to cohabitate in such huge numbers with ease.

He was alone and anonymous, and for the first time in years he began to cry. No sobs, no noise of any kind, just a stream of tears as a pit deep down in the core of his being finally woke and took in a breath of fresh air, with his recognizing it as the Calavari he’d been before the lizards had invaded. The emotions and memories came back as if he’d been holding them in check the entire time since then, until the enemy was gone and he and his people were safe.

Well, it’d finally happened, and instead of celebrating he was sitting on the floor crying. What kind of a warrior was he?

But Torgon wasn’t angry at himself. It felt good to purge the old, bad emotions, and after a long time on the floor he pulled himself onto the bed and fell into the deepest sleep he’d managed since joining Star Force. He didn’t have to subconsciously watch his back here. The war was over, they’d won, his fallen brothers were avenged…and now he could finally rest.

“Here they come,” the sensor officer onboard the Warship-class jumpship Hadricore said as the ship guarded/monitored traffic passing through the Reesmiy System. It had been one of the original lizard core worlds and was now home to a small Star Force Kiritak colony on the outermost of three habitable worlds. The other two lay bare, having been reclaimed and purged of all lizard infrastructure not long ago save for the single ring shipyard around the innermost planet. It had been used during the recycling process but now sat as a silent monument to the former owners of the system.

Silent that was until a few months ago when it had been returned to the lizards that were now working with Star Force. They’d brought in several jumpships worth of personnel to start getting it up and working again, but it wasn’t until now that the first cargo convoy had arrived, and it was a doosy.

Jumpship after jumpship was emerging from a rimward jumpline suggesting that they were arriving from the recently surrendered territories where the lizards had not been attacked or removed, meaning they still had all that infrastructure and population in place, and it looked like the Archons were putting them to work immediately.

“How many?” the ship’s Captain asked.

“138 and counting.”

“IDs?”

“All are showing Star Force passes. They’re friendlies…despite the yellow paint.”

“The blue ones are Clan affiliated,” she corrected him. “Expect to see a lot of the old school ships being used by the others.”

“It wouldn’t be hard for an enemy lizard to fake an ID signature and ram something when it got close,” another bridge officer commented.

“Which is why we’re going to keep an eye on every one of them,” she said, reminding her crew that this wasn’t just a babysitting operation anymore. “If there is even the slightest bit of suspicious activity I want to be notified and then I want it logged. The trailblazers want any and all data on the lizard operations, including reports of their routine actions.”

“Checking to make sure they’re doing what they’re supposed to?”

“I would.”

“Can they really be trusted?”

“They think so, and I’d bet credits that they’re not basing that on wishful thinking. I don’t know what all of this is about, but the Archons always know what they’re doing. Just keep your eyes and ears open and watch those IDs closely. If a ship comes in without one we need to be on it ASAP, even if it is just a malfunction. Otherwise we just wait and observe. I for one want to see what they’re going to be building.”

“More lizard ships?” the sensor officer pointed out the obvious.

“Why? Don’t they have enough already from the captured worlds? And what would the Archons want lizard ships for?”

“Sneaking across the line,” someone else suggested.

“Which is why I’m curious to see what they actually build,” she said as the jumpship count continued to climb even as the first ones redirected and made microjumps towards the planet with the ring around it.

More and more ships kept coming in that one convoy, with other groups to arrive over the following weeks as they began pouring raw materials in from the small but numerous lizard worlds that had surrendered. Those resources fed a small number of the factories within the ring, but as the months went on and more and larger convoys continued to arrive like clockwork sections of the shipyard lit up with internal functions and the huge beast of a facility slowly ramped up again. Soon it began producing not ships, but structural components that sprouted lizard cities at the base of the connecting columns that looked from orbit like weeds growing on the otherwise pristine planet.

Those cities were not built to hold population, but rather were extensive warehouses that steadily began filling up with tanks, wisps, droplets, and all manner of ground and aerial craft. Thousands upon thousands were heading down the lifts from the shipyard and being stored there even as the warehouses themselves were being expanded upon as the slow creep of infrastructure began to spread out around the connecting columns.

But there was one additional item amongst the masses that stood out, for it had never been seen in lizard inventories before. Billions of suits of body armor were being constructed in orbit and shipped down to warehouses where they were stacked and racked en mass, preparing for what would undoubtedly be an army of lizards grown to fill them at some point, but for now it seemed obvious to those Star Force troops in the system that this operation had one and only one purpose.

The Archons had these lizards preparing to fight another war and they were stocking up on equipment prior to launching it. Everyone wrongly assumed it would be a campaign against the coreward lizards, for no one knew of the trouble befalling The Nexus or the efforts Star Force was beginning to make to ward against it. Nor did they know how crucial a role these captured lizards would play, for this buildup was but an appetizer for what their civilization was truly capable of once the supply convoys really started to flow, but that would take decades to escalate to as Thrawn got the surviving lizard systems reordered and kicked into maximum production.

There was no war to fight here, but right now their enemy was time and lack of supplies, to which the lizards responded no less tenaciously than they would any adversary.

Rocky Training Montage

Mantle

1

April 17, 3437

Weeo System (The Line)

Stellar Orbit

“Lizard contacts, Archon,” a Kvash bridge officer announced less than four minutes after arrival in the star system.

Ellie-517 raised a sweaty eyebrow. “How many?”

“A small fleet in planetary orbit. Two jumpships and 184 cruisers.”

“That’s too many cruisers,” she said, standing up from her command chair in the back half of the rectangular bridge and walking forward towards the gigantic hologram at the center of the room that contained over 200 personnel. “There may be more jumpships in play. Dispatch two scouts and get me passes of the other planets, all the way around this time please. Have one finish up on the backside of the primary target. We’ll hold here until the scan is complete. Get us down into the stellar haze. If they haven’t spotted us yet I’d prefer that they didn’t know we were here.”

“It’ll interfere with our sensors as well,” the Kvash Captain warned.

“We’ll have the scouts to feed us information,” the titan said confidently. “Take us down enough to give us good cover and reconfigure shields for concealment. Don’t take us too far down…” she added as a caveat. The Kvash were proving to be very skilled in the ways of the Star Force naval division, but they were all young and relatively inexperienced, hence she’d gotten used to giving additional orders that a veteran crew wouldn’t have needed, for they’d understand the circumstances and know what to do and how to carry it out without her babysitting them.

On top of the triangular wedge that was the Kvash battleship, two small pieces of it detached and accelerated away as the ship headed in closer to the star, eventually sinking in so close that external visuals were pointless. The glowing white mass eclipsed the view with the stellar winds impacting the shields and causing disruptions that interfered with normal sight through them, as well as other forms of sensors, but the data link from the two drone scouts was holding steady. That wouldn’t last as they got farther away, meaning they’d need a relay.

“Comm buoy,” she ordered. “Set it before we’re in too far.”

The Kvash crew didn’t bother acknowledging her orders, choosing simply to carry them out with as much speed and efficiency as they could manage and the bridge was full of the stubby little guys. She was the only Human on the entire ship, but Ellie wasn’t its captain. She was acting commander of the Kvash navy when Paul was away and was personally doing the handholding necessary for the most advanced naval crew the little subfaction had to offer. A lot of them had already seen action in the lizard war prior to this assignment, others had come straight from intense training exercises, but all of them were well below par compared to other factions within the empire…though they were learning fast.

Ellie watched the hologram as it stayed up to date as much as the laggy signals from the scouts could manage. As they traveled out and through the star system they turned up empty worlds while the Star Destroyer-class battleship just sat and cooked in near the star. No signs from the lizards indicated that they’d detected their arrival, for they’d had no assets in stellar orbit, and their fleet was still sitting in the same place. Right over top of what updated sensor analysis showed was an already well established colony on the surface…or rather two, the Archon saw, as more data came in from afar. It was skimpy, but Star Force had long ago learned to make a lot off a little spec of light or radiation.

The lizards were here, building in a system that existed on the border line between the coreward lizard empire and Star Force territory, though there were no assets anywhere close. Technically this region was unclaimed, but ‘The Line’ ran through it heading up to the edge of the galactic plane, and Star Force had self-assigned patrol duty long ago which now the Kvash were helping out with rather than sending the little rocks out to the Rim Region. The lizards were a known threat, and not that much of one now, so it made sense to free up more experienced troops to head out while giving these guys some badly needed experience patrolling The Line.

Though it seemed they were going to get more than that this time. The lizards knew where the border was, for Star Force had made that knowledge public, and they’d learned long ago that the lizards had ears inside the ADZ. That meant they knew and they were poking in experimentally to see what would happen…with the outcome being a well scripted one by this point. Ellie’s mission was clear, and the Executor had more than enough firepower to deal with this small invasion all by herself.

But the Archon wanted to know the full amount of enemies insystem before she engaged, for there was no backup here, not even a relay to call for help with. The larger ship class in development would contain a mobile one, shorter than the sedas’ but capable of reaching specific relays spaced along the line. The battleship she commanded wasn’t big enough to carry it and everything else, even though it was some 3 miles long. That was far smaller than most sedas were nowadays, and in truth the Executor was a medium sized ship at best.

It was the largest the Kvash had at the moment, as far as warships went, and this was the flagship of their patrol fleet with some 13 other identical vessels out patrolling assigned routes. She’d picked up a tip about lizard ship movements and come here directly, which was becoming their normal routine. Whenever there was a call they’d go in, leaving the other ships to continue standard patrols, and while the lizards weren’t making any grand pushes into The Line they certainly weren’t respecting it, giving her Kvash a decent amount of combat missions to learn from as they detected and pushed back the encroachments in their designated piece of the giant wall puzzle.

When the scouts reached the backside of the main planet they didn’t get close enough to engage the lizards, but they did get close enough that they were detected and the beehive of ships began to move. There was nothing on the backside save for a single shipyard with a pair of cruisers docked to it with Ellie immediately recognizing it as a waystation…meaning there were probably other lizards past The Line that were branching off of here. This particular shipyard wasn’t large enough to produce cruisers on its own, but could handle repair work on them.

She wondered exactly what they were playing at, but when she got back within comm range of the network grid she was going to report in and request a heightened scrutiny of this region. If the lizards were putting down some bases nearby they needed to find them before they could get a good underground foothold and disappear. But for right now they had an immediate job to do, and it was time to get moving.

“Captain, bring us out and to the jumpline for the planet. Get the drone pilots to their stations, but don’t release the ships unless I give the order. We should be able to take these guys without risking them, though we may need to chase down stragglers if they run.”

The Kvash rattled off orders to his crew as the external view began to change. The static on the shields protecting the Star Destroyer diminished and the black sky returned along with their own sensors.

“Mark retrieval of the comm buoy as a priority prior to leaving the system,” she added as the ship accelerated hard to the jumppoint. The lizard ships were chasing after the scouts and not even getting close to catching them, but it was typical aggressive lizard philosophy and a good way to discourage people from snooping around, but it was altogether stupid to do against Star Force.

When the star destroyer accelerated into its jump the sensors went wonky but the view straight ahead was still decipherable. The compressed signals could still be made out with some computer rework and as such Ellie could still see some of the lizard ship positions, with the lag diminishing quickly into what became realtime sensors when they braked against the planetary gravity well and the peripheral scans came back.

“Begin transmitting surrender offers and repeat automatically in 3-5 minute randomized intervals,” she said as she stood again and walked up next to the hologram of the planet with tiny little glowing lights of ship locations within arm’s reach in front of her. They looked like Christmas lights to some people, but to her it was just an easy challenge to overcome. For the Kvash, though, it was a hard mission and they were glad she was here despite all the advanced tech they were carrying.

Most notable was the Nash’ti reactor that ate up some 18% of the inner hull space, which was insane, but it also provided insane power. The weapons on this single ship were the equivalent of an entire fleet of drones back in the day, and that wasn’t even counting the ones they carried, which was good because Ellie didn’t have squat with her. Between the scouts and the two troop transports, all she had was 3 cutters and a corvette as far as warships went, and they were all the hexagonal tube shapes that the Kvash sported, currently racked into external docks on top of the ship along with the rest of the extra naval craft.

The star destroyer was designed as a do-it-all vessel and wasn’t a true carrier jumpship, though it did serve that function and could hold a lot more drones if it was to extend its shielding and IDF and turn into a big fat tick of a ship, which Ellie knew was important in some situations, but the Executor had to remain mobile in others and the current design fit that description well, for it didn’t even seem to notice the extra weight it was carrying around on the back half of the top of the wedge, covering the wide part like a bunch of packages on top of a horse.

All other external surfaces were still exposed, armored, and bristling with weapons to soak up the massive amount of power provided by the reactor, so there was no reason to hesitate once they hit orbit.

“Pursuit course,” she ordered, touching one of the dots representing a lizard jumpship to highlight it, then left the specifics to the helmsman. “Best speed.”

With a thought she interfaced with the telepathic Archon controls, something the rest of the crew were oblivious to, and brought up a diagram of the Executor to her left that marked every drone it carried and every weapons battery. If any of them took damage she could see it here instantly, but with the power of the Nash’ti and the strength of their shield generators they shouldn’t even see a scratch on the hull unless something went horribly wrong.

All around her on the bridge the Kvash worked their consoles and she could feel their anxiety, but Ellie felt none. This was a tiny engagement compared to what she’d been involved in in the past, but to them it was new and dangerous and totally beyond their capability to condense down to the simple mechanics. They were afraid, not realizing that the outcome was basically over with before the battle engaged. That wasn’t arrogance on Ellie’s part, just a side effect of experience. Being able to see how a battle would play out before it happened. And it was something that none of these Kvash were able to comprehend yet.

But as much as they were afraid, they were honed into their tasks. Their fear made them work harder, not flail around in a panic, and she appreciated that about their race and Paul’s choice to advance them so rapidly. The potential he saw in them was beginning to creep out in these patrol missions, and they were having to do it all without other Kvash to pattern themselves after, or even veteran crews from other factions. Paul had made a decision that it would be Clan Saber only directing the Kvash and only Archons at that.

What his reasons were she wasn’t totally sure, for he’d just said to trust him on that when she’d asked. That usually meant he was playing a hunch, and her gut told her there was some aspect of the Kvash he wanted to develop on its own and patterning off others might suppress it. He hadn’t confirmed that, but the way these guys went into agitated ‘hive mind’ mode was curious to say the least. They weren’t telepathic, but when pressed into combat they seemed to be made of one will, a single cell in a body that was this ship…and that body was just about to come under attack.

So the fear was natural, though a waste from her perspective. At least it’d give them something else to gain experience from.

When the ship came within weapons range Ellie began tapping on targets, mainly the cruisers escorting the jumpship, but she also targeted several spots on the big ship for specific weapons to hit. Star Force had so many weapons systems built at this point it got confusing for the Kvash, so Paul had decided to refer to them in shorthand and let the details soak in later. The star destroyer’s weapons were therefore split into beams, pulses, anti-air, slugs, and gel despite what model or even what type of weapon they were, and with more advanced ones coming out regularly even the tiny Kvash fleet now had different ships with different weapons systems, so Paul had decided to focus on their role in combat rather than their V’kit’no’sat names and their technical variations.

Ellie tagged the top two of four big beams for the first jumpship, with them firing off and punching right through its shields on the first hit. Both beams converged at relatively the same point, spot overloading the shields there and punching into and through the armor, then killing one of the ship’s gravity drives, making it a bit slower but not stranding it. More beams targeted specific spots on the hull, trying to knock out as many as they could but failing to stop the ship before it jumped out on an irregular jumpline simply to escape.

The cruisers didn’t go with it, nor did the other jumpship. It was a combat carrier, not the cargo version she’d just tried to snipe down, and it had about as much weaponry on it as 20 of the cruisers and a lot more mass to soak up hits with. The cruisers formed around it to make their stand, ignoring the offers for surrender as typical, so Ellie didn’t hold back save for the slugs. Those were railguns and missiles with physical ammo, and there was no point in wasting them here.

When the star destroyer came within medium range the pulses began to fire out spurts of energy along with the big beams, tearing through cruiser shields with two or three hits each. The lizards didn’t stand a chance, but they ran right into the Star Force buzz saw with two of them making last second microjumps into the Kvash ship…but they were stopped cold by dampener shields, then the close range weaponry turned them into expanding balls of confetti.

The battle didn’t last long, but it did take a while to tear apart the jumpship. It wasn’t totally destroyed, but Ellie tried to kill as much of the crew as she could so they didn’t linger and die much more distressful deaths, but eventually she’d need to send over a safing crew before they towed and dumped the ship into the star…and they weren’t going to do that with a chance of even a mouse being still alive onboard.

When the carnage was over she ordered the ship clear of the debris, then knew it was time to go hunting for the other jumpship before it could leave the system.

“Release all drones save for the transports. Intercept protocols. Get that jumpship pinned and pound it to death, using lag protocols,” she added, making it a bit harder by keeping the Executor in planetary orbit, but not expecting the lizard ship to be able to get underway regardless. This was battle, but if she could tweak the way they went about it, it could double as additional battlefield training as well.

The hologram of the star destroyer shot off little pieces from the top-mounted racks until most of the upper hull was exposed. The racks themselves then began to retract all the way up to where the two transports were docked, though not for long.

“Ready for ground assault,” she ordered. “How’s the surface looking?”

“No signs of anti-orbital guns, Archon.”

“Good. We caught them early then…or they’re just not wasting resources on defenses that won’t stop us. Any response to surrender?”

“Negative.”

“Keep transmitting. We’re going to bombard the cities one at a time, and if they still don’t surrender we’re going to wreck everything then send in Axius to mop up. If they do so much as respond to a transmission just to cuss us out I want to know immediately,” she said, starting to tag targets on the surface while simultaneously selecting an orbital position from which to begin the bombardment from.

“Helm, new coordinates. Take us there after we drop a probe in the debris. Program to search for survivors and keep a feed on it. If it goes dark I want to know this time,” she said, referencing a prior mission when one was caught by an exploding chunk of ship. It had been accidental and not an enemy attack, but no one had noted it until some 12 minutes later. If something like that happened in another faction’s navy it would raise a red flag immediately, and that was something these guys had to get into a habit of doing on reflex rather than thinking through task lists.

She watched as the drones jumped off on their own pursuit courses, knowing that they’d be operating on built-in protocols as well as engagement orders given to them from the pilots, for with the lag they couldn’t fly them directly. It was going to be another real life test of their skills, though with the wounded jumpship’s speed being reduced so much it should still be an easy kill.

With her monitoring that soon to be engagement peripherally, Ellie turned her attention to the shipyard and all the intel the two scouts were giving her on it. Was it a repair station? And what exactly was it expecting to repair? Star Force didn’t leave them in big enough pieces to put back together, so were they fighting someone else out here?

Relevant questions that someone else was probably going to have to investigate and answer, but if she could get anything out of their apparatus here she would before moving on to the next hot spot. This was a combat mission after all, not a babysitting expedition. The Kvash needed experience, and there were plenty of others that preferred the more quiet work of running an empire that could handle investigation and low key patrols. The Kvash were built for naval war…that she now agreed with Paul…and Clan Saber wasn’t going to waste them on mundane duties, no matter how green they were.

2

“Lizards are across The Line. We’re going down,” Ritti said, poking into Scri’s quarters.

The Irondel nodded his thick head and put aside the tiny datapad he’d been reading on as he ran out the open door on all fours as he and the other infantry pilots headed for the minimech bay within the modular troop compartments onboard the star destroyer. It was an Axius-designed module and all of the troops were Irondel by choice so they could fit far more of them on the ship than they could other races.

Scri stood all of 7 inches tall when he stretched to his max, but he ran down corridors that were only 5 inches tall as he and the other Irondel infantry moved from their tiny living quarters through the crate-like module on the orders of the Archon. This wasn’t their first surface drop, but to the Irondel it never got old. The smallest ground walking race within Star Force, the Irondel in Axius were often dismissed as inconsequential by the public but trailblazer Paul himself had requested their assignment to the Kvash’s new Star Destroyer-class ships. That gave them all a swelling of pride and a sense of responsibility with every mission placed before them.

They didn’t want to let any Archon down, let alone that one.

When Scri, Ritti, and the others got to the bay they passed by a few Irondel techs that maintained their battle machines and went straight to the boarding ladders, climbing up them and onto the catwalks that gave easy access to the open panels on the machines. Scri ran inside a neite, traveling down a short tunnel that would seal behind him upon activation, and into the only room inside the sweet, sweet ride that he was happy to call his own.

The Irondel walked across a flat ring that surrounded a smooth crater in the bottom of the pod, flicking a few wall switches and bringing life to the machine as he found the crown-like control ring and slipped it onto his head before he stepped into the soft curved depression. Utilizing the mental interface he activated the energy fields that lifted him off his feet and held him suspended in midair inside an IDF field to nullify the gravity and all external impacts while his senses of his surroundings grew hazy, almost like an afterimage in a corner of his mind.

Suddenly his senses became that of the machine and he was looking through its ‘eyes’ and hearing through its ‘ears’ as the mental interface fully kicked in. The machine was quadruped and built to mimic the Irondel’s natural body, so as he moved his own legs the neite responded in kind. Pressures felt by the machine were translated to his mind only, leaving Scri swimming and kicking like an idiot in midair during a fight, but no one else was inside the cockpit to see him so it didn’t matter. His body would be protected even if the neite got tossed head over heels…which had happened before…and whatever damage occurred to it he’d feel in his mind and not his own body.

It was a very smooth, complicated system that took years to learn, but all the Irondel in this unit were veterans and loaded up into their neites quickly, with a stream of the meter tall metallic chipmunks strolling out of the modular bay and into the ship’s ‘normal-sized’ interior. To Scri it was the land of the giants, but when he was in his machine he felt their size and interacted with them as such. It was a not so small transition that many Irondel had trouble making, often getting too cocky with their gigantic forms and peerdom with the Archons and others, but those Irondel that didn’t adapt and realize just how vulnerable they still were didn’t make it through training.

Reckless Irondel were dead Irondel, whether it was from getting stepped on or blown up didn’t matter. You had to use your head and think…and thinking in combat was one thing the Archons had always emphasized.

The neites headed through the utility corridors that led to the stairwells rather than the lifts, with the nimble machines climbing them easily as they ascended out of the wedge-shaped hull and into the boxy upper pylon on top of the battleship that the troop ships were docked with. When they entered their assigned one most of them moved into drop position, which were little cubicles in a bay where each of them parked, almost shoulder to shoulder, and waited. A few of the neites went to another chamber where the Irondel got out of them and skittered along walkways into the tiny bridge on the ship that they would pilot or into the true mech bay.

Scri wasn’t one of them, but he was glad that they’d have mech support. His neite was a machine, but it was designed to move and fight like infantry, which he was classified as. Piloting a mech was another skillset entirely, and the few huge machines that they had were permanently parked on the troop ships so they didn’t take up unnecessary space inside the star destroyer. But as per protocol, the Irondel didn’t leave their specially designed modules without being inside a neite no matter what their duties were. Their bodies were so small and fragile that a Human tripping and falling on top of them could kill them, and that was a risk the Archons didn’t want them taking.

All Irondel knew they could handle themselves in the field without machines if necessary, relying on their speed and agility to keep them alive, but it was always best to take a neite wherever you went just in case, and you could abandon it if you had to…not to mention it could survive vacuum, extreme heat or cold, and a number of other conditions that normal crew could not. And while the Kvash were about as hardy as they came, a neite would still survive in a range of conditions they could not.

That, and the ship always ran hot. When the Archon or others were onboard the Kvash kept it as cool as they could stand, but to Scri and the others it was dreadfully oppressive heat. Their quarters were not, thankfully, and while he could stand the Kvash ‘coolness’ for a while it was best not to even mess with it, making having a neite to run around in essential on an assignment like this.

Once parked in position there was a long wait as the transport eventually undocked from the ship, and he watched on his display as the star destroyer fully pulled in its docking racks now that all the ships had departed. Those sealed up inside the boxy top behind armor plating, which was how the Kvash preferred to fight. The shields on the star destroyer were beastly, but they were all that protected the racks when exposed. Tucked up like they were now, with the shields reset to cover a smaller silhouette, Scri knew was the most dangerous configuration the ship could get in naval combat, though it seemed right now it was content to just continue firing down at the surface in preparation for their landing with no opposition in orbit to shoot back at it.

That meant the lizards hadn’t surrendered, as per frickin usual. The buggers never surrendered whenever Scri was on a mission, nor anyone else he’d talked to, but apparently some had and were even now working for Star Force. They were the smart ones. These must have just been dumb lizards, for there was no way they were going to survive this and unless they got lucky or the Irondel screwed up, they weren’t even going to be able to kill one of them, making their deaths pointless.

But he knew the lizards would try anyway and he’d have to fight well to make sure they didn’t score a victory against them. When the transport finally landed his orders hadn’t changed. They were to hunt down and destroy all remaining lizards.

The ranks of neites before him began to file out with Scri’s taking his place in the double line as the machines ran with excessive nimbleness through the corridors and out the boarding ramp that deposited them into the rubble of what had just been a lizard colony an hour before. The star destroyer had done a nasty piece of work to it, but the lizards were hard to kill and always found somewhere to hide out and ambush from. If they didn’t kill all of them they might be able to hide here and rebuild after the Executor moved on to the next system…and that was something they couldn’t let happen.

The neites circled around and secured the perimeter of the transport with some of them hopping up on top of chunks of debris to get better vantage points. Everything was a mess, but the transport had come down inside a blast crater that was more or less flat, though it was still smoking in several places and Scri was glad he wasn’t out there on his bare feet.

He felt the heat in his mind as the neite’s sensors translated it to him, but it wasn’t going to damage the machine at these levels and it was dropping fast as it bled off into the frosty air that was a few degrees below freezing. In fact there were even some snowflakes coming down and melting instantly into little puffs of steam as they hit the hotspots in the rubble.

As the neites gradually expanded their perimeter a pair of mechs came out of the transport’s main bay. Both were bipeds, being driven by different mental commands but using the same ring control system. They walked slow with huge steps and were pound for pound more heavily armed and armored than Human mechs…for the simple reason that their pilots didn’t take up as much internal space, with it being devoted to more machinery and less life support.

Yet another reason why the Irondel were perfect for this kind of low numbered ground troop assignment…they had to make every mech and minimech count, for there were no available reinforcements to come and bail them out, aside from the Archon, and if that was necessary they’d have failed in their mission.

When the call finally came Scri joined up with four others and headed northwest in a patrol looking for and coordinating with the sensors on the other minimechs and the battleship in orbit while the two Vulture-class mechs blasted their way into rubble to expose certain areas or break through to subsurface structures that were still intact. One of them opened up a shaft that led straight down 30 meters and into which Scri and his squad dived in head first a few hours later.

The anti-grav within their machines cushioned their fall, but as soon as they touched down there was a hail of phaser fire from dozens of lizards coming in from multiple directions. The shields on the minimechs held up to the initial barrage, but Scri and the others knew better than to just stand still and take it. He immediately launched out at a frighteningly fast run, skittering across the stone-like ground with blurry strides and up to the nearest lizard he could find, then shot it with a lachar blast from the head of the neite.

He followed it up with a rapid fire assault, chewing into the lizards like a buzz saw as their return fire dropped his shields lower and lower. Before they could get through to his armor he pushed all the way into their bodies, using the lizards as shields against most of their own guns as he landed on top of one standard variant and knocked it to the ground, punching it in the head with his forward right metallic paw three times in quick succession before leaping ahead and headbutting another…followed by a lachar blast only inches away that blew out the lizard’s skull like a dull grenade popping.

Soon another neite jumped past him, tearing into another three lizards with a sway of its head and a flurry of shots. Scri didn’t know how many lizards there were around him, he just fought those closest and worked the problem…though it was short lived. Barely 2 minutes later and they were all dead, leaving nothing but an empty chamber that looked like it had been a warehouse with very little stored in it.

With orders coming in over the battlemap, Scri and Tikro ran off to one exit and began exploring the lizard infrastructure searching for signs of more survivors in what by now was a very practiced procedure. Room by room, city by city, they’d search and destroy until this planet was confirmed cleansed of lizards, then they’d move on to the next mission and repeat as many times as was necessary.

“Jumpship neutralized,” the Kvash reported.

“Good,” Ellie said, now sitting down in her command chair as she observed the continuing efforts of her crew. The ground troops were already deployed and making kills, with her following a bit of their viewpoint on a side screen as she also monitored the naval front. The shipyard hadn’t surrendered and she’d sent drones on around to deal with it while the Executor lived up to its name, pummeling more surface targets and killing as many lizards as they could that were out in the open or in the uppermost buildings.

“Shall I organize boarding parties?”

“You think they’re beat up enough to handle without Axius?”

“I believe so.”

“Prep two squads of commandos and one of techs. I’ll personally take them over and begin securing the first target after all hostiles are eliminated in orbit.”

“The two docked cruisers?”

Ellie nodded as she saw the drones on approach, though there was still no movement from the ships. She didn’t know if they were damaged or fully operational and just sitting, but she wasn’t going to leave the Executor until they were taken out. The Kvash could handle them, or she could even give orders via comm from her armor, but it was better to just wait a bit and play it safe with a mostly green crew, as far as Star Force standards went. In other civilizations these guys would count as veterans, unfortunately.

When the drones eventually got to the shipyard both cruisers didn’t respond with more than a few weapons batteries, and the close in scans revealed heavy damage to both of them. They’d been fighting someone other than Star Force and had come here for repairs. Who that was she couldn’t guess, but there was definitely going to be an investigation started. Star Force didn’t own all the territory this side of The Line, but anyone that could do damage to the lizards was worth noting.

To that end she altered the orders to the drone pilots, having them pluck the weapons batteries off the cruisers and hit a few key places on the shipyard as she had the weapons batteries on the star destroyer cease fire.

“Detour,” she announced. “Get us to that shipyard. We’re going to secure and clean it out first, then I want a tech team to salvage as much of the computer systems onboard those cruisers as possible.”

The captain and the crew carried out her orders, getting the Executor underway in a massive arc around the curve of the planet, but she could feel they were confused so she took a moment to explain for their benefit. Normally she didn’t have to, but part of this mission was learning and they needed to know more of her thinking than a standard crew would.

“The cruisers,” she said loud enough that all the bridge crew could easily hear, “have been damaged in battle. They didn’t get here on their own power, so they had to dock with a jumpship that transported them here. If they engaged us they wouldn’t have time to dock, let alone get away. I do not think they were engaged in combat with Star Force, and I want to know who they are fighting in this region. If we can pull data from those ships, I want it.”

3

November 19, 3446

Grid Point Mankla

Riona’s Warship-class jumpship pulled away from the massive chasm that was the interior of the Nexus mag jump carrier that had brought it and four other Star Force jumpships across the gap from H’kar territory to the tiny island of Gfatt territory in the Rim Region. The massive construct that they’d braked against was the size of a planet, just like its twin back in H’kar territory, but here there were four of them, spaced within 2 million kilometers of one another and well away from the nearest star system.

One of those links led across a much larger gap and into what was still Nexus territory, while the other two were connected to the Tolsoi and Vedran. This connecting hub had been expanded to include the H’kar when they joined and was the single largest and most important grid point within the Rim Region. Most members only had a single link that led to Grid Point Dagran or Grid Point Ullpor, each of which was a large spur within territory that still belonged to The Nexus, so travel from one point in the Rim Region to another required leaving it via the grid point system and coming back in again on a different spur. As far as distance traveled was concerned that was a huge detour, but speed wise it was vastly superior to using gravity drives.

Grid Point Mankla was the only one now under Star Force control with multiple constructs in it, though the H’kar’s Grid Point Annsa was going to be upgraded to include a second construct when it eventually arrived from Nexus territory. Nearby to Mankla was the transit star system for local traffic, and only a single jump from it was the world the Gfatt had colonized. They continued to provide security for this grid point in order to hold the link between The Nexus and Star Force territory, and as Riona looked at the updating battlemap from the command nexus onboard her ship she saw an enormous defense fleet comprised of Gfatt ships mixed in with those from the local member races, most of whom were from the Tolsoi.

No Star Force warships were here, but there were over a hundred cargo/civilian ships present for the same reason as the Archon had come to the bridge rather than sleeping or working out in the sanctum while they transitioned this point on their way to Vedran territory where Clan Saber was setting up shop.

There were so many ships present in the space between the four grid point constructs that she wouldn’t have argued with the ship’s computer if it gave an error message when asked to catalog them all. Though there were no planets here there were stations…huge stations with commerce traffic equal to what you might find in Epsilon Eridani. This hub of the grid point system was a star system in and of itself and completely fabricated in deep space so that there would be no orbital wobble throwing off the long shot trajectories that were required to hit the ‘small’ dish-shaped targets on the constructs.

And Star Force now owned all of this, despite the Gfatt’s presence to help defend it. Their single world was still classified as belonging to The Nexus and would be used as a much more vital waypoint for traffic coming through the system, which the Gfatt had told Star Force they were very grateful for, but Grid Point Mankla was now Star Force’s property and their responsibility to maintain. Seeing how many ships and stations there were here, Riona realized just how much trust The Nexus was being forced to place in their hands, for the trillions of people living here relied on commerce to fuel their economy and the four regions linked together by this hub did likewise.

The Gfatt would help defend it, but they would not be running it anymore. They and the other exterior Nexus races had been slowly withdrawing their personnel as locals were upping their numbers and Star Force was sprinkling a few of their own in as well to replace the losses. A Duke now ran this grid point and the people controlling the constructs now took orders from Star Force personnel, but the bulk of the crews here and the denizens were made up of the local races that were sort of now Star Force, but until they went through indoctrination Riona truly didn’t count them as such. They were Star Force’s responsibility, but other than dots on a map there was no true connection yet between them.

As for the carrier ships, Star Force didn’t own any of them. They were a mix of Nexus contracts and privately owned vessels that business arrangements had been made with, though producing their own ships was on Star Force’s to-do list. Right now though everything was operating smoothly, for while The Nexus was falling apart its people were very good at their jobs. They couldn’t have held together a mechanical wonder such as this if they weren’t, and the professionalism on both sides was allowing an adequate transfer of command and ownership…though Star Force was going to go through every nut and bolt here to both catalog it and find ways to make improvements.

For what no one had said out loud regarding this handover was the transfer of technology. Star Force was getting access to even more high level Nexus tech than they’d gotten from the H’kar, thanks to the Tolsoi, who had rated a higher trust and therefore more secrets granted to them, but the grid point constructs themselves were as advanced as Nexus tech went and now Star Force had their own people inside learning to maintain them and in position to reverse engineer whatever they came across that was new and/or useful.

Add that to what they’d already recovered from the Trinx and Star Force had a lot more tech to work with. Granted, most of it was duplicates of what was cataloged by the V’kit’no’sat from other races across the galaxy, but there were enough new deviations or even outright new technologies that Star Force was gaining that would give them a small advantage over the V’kit’no’sat. Not so much in firepower or performance, but in being able to have a slightly different playbook to work out of instead of just copying everything that their nemesis had.

And one very big upside to this crazy deal to annex all of this new territory was that the member races changing sides from The Nexus to Star Force were huge.  Geographically speaking the amount of territory was about double what Star Force currently had, but this expansion was far more populated and the tech level of those populations was considerable. The trailblazers and Davis had a lot to work with out here, and even if it wasn’t up to Star Force standards it was impressive in its own right, especially this grid point.

Riona watched for a long time as the small convoy of ships crossed from one construct to another, passing by and through enormous stations that housed all types of industries befitting an interstellar crossroads. She could get lost here if she wanted and be able to hide out for the rest of her life. It was just that damn complex and crowded, and bringing proper order to it all was going to be an ongoing headache for Duke Herrington, especially since he had to keep everything functioning while he started to make changes.

Fortunately Riona wasn’t here to help with that, and after she retreated from spectating to get back into her normal training schedule the ships waited out the arrival of their next carrier. Given that they now owned the place they got priority slots and didn’t have to wait more than 3 days, after which they were carried across to Grid Point Irren where there was only one construct, similar to what H’kar territory was…the end of the line, or web, in this case.

That said, there was still a large amount of buildup around it. The grid points were in and of themselves a separate civilization from the rest of The Nexus and people lived and worked here simply because it was on the grid rather than due to any connection with the local region. Here there were shipyards that built the massive carrier ships, along with every other piece of industry needed to support and grow the interstellar commerce, for it was common knowledge that the safest place to build infrastructure within The Nexus was at the grid points, for they were the most well protected of any locations save for perhaps the capitols of the major members.

There were no Nexus guardian fleets here, though. Only ships from the local races along with a scattering of Star Force warships and one command ship. The strength level was impressive, but far less than Mankla. She didn’t think this site was going to come under attack though, especially because it wasn’t in a star system. There was one way in and one way out, that being a direct line from the nearest star system to the light gravity well of the construct itself, and there was an impressive amount of weaponry attached to that side of the construct, meaning that anyone coming in that wasn’t supposed to be here would be running into a buzz saw, not to mention the waiting guardian fleets around the flanks of that jumpline.

A star offered almost unlimited access, for one could come in from any angle and it was guesswork as to where to lay in wait. Also, with the greater mass you could come out shallow and avoid traps in low stellar orbit. Here the mass was so low you had to creep over from the nearest star, and with the watch station that Star Force had implemented, which now only consisted of a group of ships and a touch of a space station under construction, the grid point would be alerted to any incoming hostiles with enough of a head start to prepare a very nasty welcome.

All together that meant the grid points were the fortresses of The Nexus and of the Rim Region, speaking from a naval perspective.

Riona’s group of ships made the much faster jump from construct to nearby star, then began bouncing through the nearby star systems until they came to the Vedran capitol. It was located in a binary system in very high imbalance, with a massive central star and a much smaller one that orbited it in a wobbly tango that caused the big one to swivel around rather than holding center position. Fortunately Star Force navigational systems had no problem targeting either star or even the center of mass between the two to decelerate on, with Riona’s ship coming out into the orange glow of the smaller of the pair.

From there they made a microjump further out into the system that contained over 200 planets with 6 of them being heavily populated. She didn’t travel to any of those, though, for Clan Saber had set up shop on one of the tiny lumps of rock in the inner zone that had been mined out long ago. Now those hollowed out chambers were being expanded upon and repurposed as Paul had his Clan building a proper colony of their own in the Vedran capitol system from which to direct them and the surrounding region.

The Vedran were the second largest former Nexus member after the Tolsoi, with Paul and Hightower taking up residence here while trailblazers and lesser monarchs were being dispatched to the others and even to some of the other supportive races that had not been part of The Nexus but had lived under their protective shadow. All together there were 38 trailblazers here, along with Director Davis and Arch Duke Hightower. After that there was a long string of monarchs and Archons heavily involved in taking command of the region, and that now included her as well.

She took a dropship over to the small planet that had been renamed ‘Pocket’ and flew past the parked Excalibur along with several hundred other Clan Saber warships out of the thousands that she knew had been dispatched here already. With the flagship being here she assumed Paul still was, and with a little computer searching she narrowed down his location inside the airless planet after she landed, then picked up his mental signature coming from a chamber very near to the surface.

“Hey,” Riona said casually as she walked in on some sort of meeting between him, a half dozen Humans, and three times that number of Kiritas under an outcropping of rock that had numerous holes drilled into it and wiring coming out of most of them.

“Hey,” he answered back as all heads turned to look at her.

“Busy?”

“Just sharing notes. Did you bring my new toys?”

“Fresh off the docks.”

“Excellent,” he said, drawing out the word slightly. “We can use the extra firepower. Things out here are deteriorating rapidly, which we were discussing.”

“Again,” one of the Kiritas added, drawing a few nods of disgust from the others.

Riona frowned. “Bring me up to speed.”

“The Vedran are…” the Kiritas said, searching for the right words, “…difficult to work with. They’re not being disobedient, but their culture is not compatible with our own and we’re discussing ways to tackle that challenge.”

“What’s your major headache?”

“Their techs follow procedure adamantly, even when it’s the wrong thing to do. The only people who do the thinking are a central sect and everyone else feels it’s their duty to carry out their orders and procedures exactly as issued…which is insane when dealing with technology. They are against improvisation entirely.”

Riona cringed. “Do their warriors fight like that too?”

“No,” Paul answered hesitantly. “They have a thinker assigned to each unit so they can adapt to field situations. Everyone else follows them and standing protocol exactly, even if they make a discovery that it is the wrong call. They will report it, then jump off the cliff with the rest of the lemmings if protocol isn’t altered.”

“How the hell have they survived this long?”

“Their leaders are quite smart.”

“Not smart enough to implement a different system,” a Human tech noted.

“We’re making some small changes,” Paul continued, “but they’re being resistant. Not deliberately so, but they just don’t know how to think for themselves. They’re the polar opposite of the lizards. Might as well be battle droids, and we’re comparing notes trying to find some way of getting through to them in order to increase their battle efficiency. Until then we need as much Star Force firepower as we can get to do the heavy lifting.”

“How are we set on maturias?”

“One experimental unit, about 6,000 strong.”

“So nothing…great,” Riona said, taking a seat on a crate next to two Kiritas. She wasn’t Clan Saber, but spent enough time with them to have been unofficially granted member status. “But they will follow our orders in battle?”

“To the letter.”

“Well that’s something then.”

“And we’re already putting it to use, but the scouting reports coming back are grim. Everyone seems to be in a frenzy and making power grabs for anything they can get their hands on. Little planets are at war all over the place and we’re tracking down the worst offenders, but we don’t even have a single full survey yet. There’s simply too much territory to keep track of, let alone patrol.”

“What’s the status of the Paladin?”

“Growing and patrolling a short list of systems. Thrawn’s boys are handling most of the scouting and I’ve got them set up as far from the grid points as you can get. They’re doing their thing and we’re stretching out comm relays to them now, but we’re going to be out of contact for another year and a half save for couriers.”

“That’s all?”

“I had them build a lot of them before they came out here.”

“So we’re dropping the relays off without protection?”

“No. There’s a small lizard presence at each system sufficient to scare off scavengers and the curious, but not enough to defend them if they’re seriously targeted. But we know if one goes down because they have orders to run away and tell us if they can’t get an alert off.”

“Alright, what do you want me to do?”

“Right now just help us troubleshoot. How’s Mankla look?”

“Big,” she said, understating heavily.

Paul smiled. “Told you so.”

“Still, I didn’t expect that much. The Nexus must be desperate to be turning all this over to us.”

Riona saw several of the Kiritas frown, then she picked up on a disturbing emotion running through most of them. “What?”

“It seems The Nexus isn’t very popular around here,” a Human mining chief said. “The Vedran were about to rebel before the swap occurred.”

“Really?”

“Rumor says they could see the writing on the wall and knew they were going to be abandoned against all promises to the contrary. They were going to take their fate into their own hands before that happened, and apparently that isn’t something unique to them.”

“We’ve been getting similar stories from a lot of the regions out here,” Paul added. “People privately confiding in us things that were never made public, and not just coming from the leaders. The average workers are thanking us and telling their woes now that they have someone to vent to. The Rim Region has been a mess for a long time. The Nexus didn’t give up much that they weren’t already going to lose.”

“They gave up the grid points.”

“Did you notice who was defending them?”

Riona raised an eyebrow. “The Vedran were going to seize Mankla?”

“Them and the Tolsoi. We’ve heard that from both sides, though there was never any official plan put down, even in their private files, and we’ve had an extensive look. Davis has an army of data miners dispatched to all the Clans so we can feed him the data once we have it…”

“…and he wants it yesterday.”

“Bingo.”

Riona sighed. “So, we’ve got a race of by the book even if it kills you loyalists unable to adapt to save their life…literally…and we don’t really know much about them yet, but we’re still in the position of giving them orders and putting back together a region that was on the verge of rebellion and threatened by how many rivals?”

“Four big ones.”

“Four. Well, then. Please tell me you’re going to assign me to kick at least one of their asses?”

Paul shook his head. “Sorry, not just yet. Right now we’re in training mode. We’ve gotta get these guys headed in the right direction before we start looking outward too much, and the big question is how to teach these guys to think without putting them all into full scale indoctrination programs that we don’t have the infrastructure to field. We have to make use of these guys in the here and now, so if you have any ideas speak up.”

“Tell me what you know about them…all of you,” she added, “and maybe I can shove this conversation in a different direction given the fact that I’m just arriving and taking this in fresh.”

Paul gestured to a Kiritas on his left and the commando began speaking, reiterating all the stories he’d heard from the Vedran troops he’d been working with, and the rest of those in the group did the same, giving Riona a quick rundown that left her with one unavoidable conclusion.

“We give them the option of thinking for themselves, without penalty, but don’t expect them to. We just make sure they have leadership onsite that can do the thinking for them and rebuild this civilization through the maturias. I don’t see how we have the resources or time to do otherwise.”

“That’s been our continuing analysis,” Paul confirmed regretfully, “but we keep swapping stories and trying to think of something else.”

4

February 11, 3459

Megatron 18 System

Middle Zone

The Sanguine Blade came out of its jump well shy of the black hole, easily braking against its higher mass from the star they’d jumped off of. They’d been able to travel the last 22 lightyears at a very fast speed thanks to the size of that star and the fact they didn’t have to worry about stopping power here, nor did the other ships that Jason was observing all across the system’s inner zone. The Megatron 18 System was no different than any other, save for where you normally had a hot, glowing beacon in the center, here you had a pit of nothingness as far as sensors and your eyes were concerned.

Or rather most sensors. This was a small black hole and some of the command ship’s tech was able to penetrate the darkness…or would as soon as the return signal came back. Right now all Jason could see was the light and other forms of natural radiation in the system bouncing off the ships and a scattering of rocks here. There wasn’t much to work with, given that there wasn’t a star to show them off, but most ships put out energy signatures that could be picked up and the ones Jason was seeing now had been transmitting out from their distant locations prior to his arrival. He was seeing the laggy signals as he waited for his ship’s active sensors to send out theirs and get a return bounce back.

As time went by new icons on the battlemap popped up noting additional rocks, but not the planet he knew was here. Right now it was on the far side of the black hole and out of sight, but the smaller chunks of rock he was seeing now were floating in a lazy orbit and a threat to navigation…those closest to the jumplines anyway. The rest could sit where they were, but he’d have to remove those near to all the local jumplines and there were plenty of stars within reach of this black hole to funnel traffic here.

Or there would be if it wasn’t for the Zargor raiders that were attacking whatever traffic was reckless enough, or ignorant enough, to pass through this system. There was one short link to another local black hole and two long ones possible, given Star Force’s grav drive power and accuracy, but there was far too little traffic here to account for even the short route. Black hole to black hole was the fastest way to travel if you didn’t have access to the grid point system and there was only a single link to the Belladeir that he and Clan Sangheili were tasked with overseeing and reworking.

And in order to get to the other grid points within the Rim Region he actually had to leave it, bouncing off The Nexus’s grid point Dagran and then back through another link to one of Star Force’s new holdings, if not through yet another one in their territory to make the eventual connection. Relying on someone else’s grid points to move through your own territory was risky, but right now they didn’t have much choice unless they wanted to go the ‘long’ way, as far as time was concerned, or to go to the expense of building more grid points. That was preferable, but those resources were badly needed elsewhere, even with the ADZ funneling convoy after convoy of support to the region now that the lizard war was over and the production that had been sustaining it was being reworked into other projects.

But it was a long haul out here and the Sety weren’t going to get the promised grid point pair moved here any time soon. That left Jason and the others with a trickle of supplies coming in, but the bulk of whatever resources they were going to have to work with was going to come from the locals…as it did every single time you dealt with interstellar travel. Shipping was limited, even with the massive size of Star Force’s cargo jumpships and the increasing number of them in their fleet, but Davis had always demanded they build around a self-sufficient model for just this reason.

Unfortunately the races out here hadn’t. Many systems were dependent on trade with others, else they’d collapse…either economically or totally. Food production on several were in jeopardy and Jason’s primary concern, and he had his Clan’s Paladin tackling that first off. They were building in select sectors of those systems, sections of continents that were empty or emptying of what little inhabitation they had were being given over to the Sangheili and his loyal lizards were collecting resources and building as fast as they could, not just to support themselves but to create the extensive bioharvest facilities that would feed the systems in question and remove their dependency on trade…and hopefully do it before more trade routes were cut off.

This one, however, was too important to leave in the hands of the enemy. The short black hole link covered 92 lightyears, approximately the same width as the original ADZ before that term got blurred with surrounding expansions, and being able to hop from one side to the other in relatively short time would be crucial for gaining this region more connectivity, for outside the Belledeir’s holding this area was one of the more wild and lawless…but the Belledeir were also among the strongest and most stable races and had been holding their borders firm. Right now he wasn’t worried about that changing, but everyone else nearby was in jeopardy and as much as he hated to admit it there was going to be a lot of carnage going on that he simply could not stop.

But there was no way he was going to let the chief bad guy in this region hang onto the most valuable navigational prize outside Grid Point Lochat. This black hole was now Star Force property, and he was about to inform the current tenants of that fact.

Two hours after he arrived his command ship was sitting in the exact same position, simply soaking up data from across the massive system. The more gravity the well at the center had the more ‘territory’ there was circling it, gravitationally speaking, making black hole systems the largest by far, and his ship’s sensor pings couldn’t even get back from the Megatron 18 and to his position in the middle zone by the time the rest of his fleet finally arrived.

Warship after warship emerged from their jump and got what updated information they could from the Sanguine Blade, marking the positions of ship after ship in the local area…all of which were presumed to be dead and gutted. There were some closer in to the black hole showing movement and/or power signatures, but most contacts showing up on the sensor bounces were dead ships in a widely spaced graveyard.

No doubt thanks to the Zargor and who knew who else had been here poaching traffic. They had some of their own ships waiting in the inner zone that had shown up immediately to Jason when he’d arrived, and it would only be about now that they would see the sensor images from the command ship arrive…but they wouldn’t be seeing the rest of his fleet until they were on top of them, for it would take another two hours for their images to reach them and Jason didn’t intend to be sitting here that long.

When the last of his 22 warships arrived they made a microjump as a group in towards the black hole, utilizing its massive gravity to jerk them down into the inner zone far faster than you could ever hope to inside a stellar system. They moved at a speed that would be consistent with a standard interstellar jump, then once again braked easily as the gravity field increased in magnitude as they got closer.

But it was a hard deceleration against a pinpoint target, with his fleet coming out of its ‘microjump’ within 200 kilometers of a group of Zargor raiders. Jason swung the Sanguine Blade off its trajectory and over towards them, getting within range before they even realized what was happening…or maybe they were just too drunk or otherwise derelict to notice, for the limited information he had suggested they just sat out here and waited for their prey to be spotted transitioning from jumpline to jumpline, which gave them plenty of time to intercept.

But now the six cruiser-class were suddenly gripped in an IDF field and found their engines unable to function. No weaponsfire came from the huge command ship, but eventually some did come from the Zargor. Two of them opened fire with energy missiles, little clumps of dense, unstable energy similar to Star Force’s bloon launchers but with much shorter range and less bang for your buck. The green naval paintballs splattered harmlessly against the Sanguine Blade’s shields as it sat there, almost mocking them, for several minutes before Jason’s transmission was sent.

“Attention Zargor,” he said with the computer translating into their native language to make sure there was no misunderstanding involved, “I am Jason-025 of Star Force. We are claiming possession of this system and your days of poaching ship traffic here are over. How they end is your choice. I have let you live so you can be messengers. Run back to your base and tell them they have 30 hours to evacuate, after which point I’m blowing it and all your ships up. Leave and live, or stay and die. Your choice. Now get moving,” he finished, dropping the IDF field a couple of seconds later.

The two ships shooting at him continued to do so, but then thought better of it as the others quickly flew off leaving them by themselves. The command ship still didn’t fire back, staring them down and absorbing the damage on its shields until they eventually turned and ran with the sight of the other warships closing in being an added incentive to heed Jason’s warning.

He’d given them 30 hours, but that didn’t mean they’d have 30 more hours of poaching to do. As soon as those six ships left he had his fleet empty out its drones and begin spreading out at different points around the perimeter of the black hole securing the most popular jumplines with the bulk of his ships split between the line to the other black hole and the planet to which Jason took his command ship with four warships and their drones in escort.

It was about the size of Mercury and just as rocky. No atmosphere, no native lifeforms. Just a huge, dark rock with no light cast on it aside from the distant stars and his ship’s sensors, but there was a significant Zargor population on the surface. A pirate’s lair, more than anything, and apparently a shipyard being used as a chop shop to salvage what vessels they wanted out of the graveyard around the black hole.

Jason held to his 30 hours, holding back and just observing what was happening as the Zargor chose to fight rather than flee. They pulled in ships from across the system and gathered them at their base, effectively making it easier for Jason to kill them all. Once they’d amassed several thousand of them they decided to strike, sending them into pointblank range to make the most use of their pulse-style weapons.

The trailblazer had his own ships hold back most of their own weaponsfire, letting the enemy get the impression that they weren’t that well-armed as the engagement ranges shortened and the two fleets mixed in with one another in a crescendo of energy and particle exchanges. Before his ships could take damage beyond shields Jason rescinded the hold order and every Dre’mo’don in the fleet opened up within their preferred range as his command ship extended its IDF and trapped dozens of ships within it, then pounded them into a pulp within less than a minute.

Everywhere the Zargor ships were getting hammered, but they couldn’t jump away with so many ships around them and by the time they realized that was what they needed to do half of them were dead. Rather than stand their ground and go out fighting they all began disengaging at once and trying to weave their way into position for emergency jumps that wouldn’t see them ramming other ships, but not very many of them made it out and Jason didn’t bother to hold fire and ask for a surrender. The Zargor outnumbered Star Force and their new members in this region and he wasn’t about to let them get away with intact ships now that they’d chose to fight.

Some did manage to find clearings in the gaggle of warships and jumped away, but Jason ordered drones to be sent after them and on the battlemap he could see the tiny holographic specs shooting out like insects as they went in pursuit while he was left in control of the debris field. He searched through it looking for the most intact ships and tagged them for boarding parties with orders to recover survivors and any computer records or intel sources onboard. There was a lot they didn’t know about their enemy, or rather one of their new enemies, and he figured that when the planetary base witnessed this butt kicking it would be deleting all the ones they had before Jason could get to them, meaning these wrecked ships were probably the best chance for grabbing valuable intel.

“Zargor,” he said after opening another comm, this one sent directly to the base. “You have another 5 hours and 42 minutes to evacuate. If we recover any survivors from your fleet you’re welcome to have them, but you will be gone from this planet and on your way out of the system by the time the deadline expires or you will become prisoners yourselves or dead. I’d prefer some of you lived to tell your bosses of your loss of this system, but if not so be it. They’ll figure it out eventually. Heed my warning and evacuate while you still have time.”

With that being the last communication he planned to have with them, he left the bridge and headed down to the hangar bay to join the boarding parties…or rather oversee them. He stayed behind and dealt with the first survivors that they secured, a lot of which were badly injured. He pulled off one who wasn’t and let his helmet do the translating with the 8 foot tall wolf-like biped that was bound by the hands.

“Stop,” Jason ordered, holding up a pink armored hand. “I want to speak with you.”

“You…” it said with obvious spite. “You have no idea what you have done.”

“Spare me your threats. I don’t care to hear them. I need you to carry a message back to your people…assuming any of them will bother to pick you up. If not I’ll arrange secondary transport.”

“My people will be here shortly. Our defeat will be avenged.”

“Blah, blah, blah…listen kiddo, you have no idea who you’re talking to or what you’re up against.”

“You are scavenging the scraps of The Nexus as they withdraw.”

“Oh, well then I guess you understand part of it. The part you don’t get is how powerful we are, hence I’m going to give you a demonstration just in case us blowing up your fleet wasn’t enough,” he said, raising a hand theatrically as he telekinetically lifted the heavy Zargor off his feet and levitated him in the air with a pinch of his torso, leaving his legs kicking helplessly beneath him. “Do I have your attention now?”

“Your tricks with shield tech will not…”

Listen to me! Jason yelled into his mind with the words reverberating with the emotion of a giant stomping on the ground.

The defiance within the Zargor suddenly turned to cold fear as Jason began to mentally repeat text translation on his helmet’s HUD directly into the other’s mind and he wasn’t being subtle about it. He made it so loud and dressed up with emotional impetus that it felt to the Zargor like he was a god having invaded his mind.

You will take a message for me back to your people. And you will make them understand the power I am showing you now. They will not listen to reason or logic, but they may listen to fear. Stay away from us and you have a chance to live. Fight us…and you will be destroyed. Not just the soldiers you send against us, but your entire civilization. Challenge us, and we will take you all down given time. We are just arriving here, but there are many more of us yet to come. And if it’s a fight you’re looking for, we’ll be happy to oblige. Kicking ass is our specialty.

5

April 19, 3462

Appachu System (Rim Region)

Seenigal

Ryen-10389 dove out of the transport as it hovered over the choppy ocean, hitting a wave at an angle and punching through underneath head first, making a hole with his armored fists and slamming into the extra dense water that covered 2/3rds of the planet. It had a greenish tint to it, but right now he couldn’t see it or much else given that it was night and the only light above the water was the distant exchanges of weaponsfire near the coast some 14 miles away.

When the titan drifted a few meters down from the initial impact he kicked in his aquatic armor’s jets and pulled himself lower as multiple impacts hit all around him, punching through the waves much less gracefully as the Bsidd fell out of the transport in sequence to ensure they didn’t hit one another. Ryen could see them on his battlemap and sensors, but visually there was nothing coming through his faceplate as all of his attack group made their way down to the seafloor.

Ryen took position there and waited as the Bsidd Iotas made their way down to him. Of all the variants they most looked like crabs, but they moved well under water and could even breathe it if necessary, though all those in Ryen’s unit were fully armored and supplied with oxygen the same way he was. As they floated down to join him, Ryen used his Da’she upgrade and searched everywhere between his current position and the coast, picking up various minds that the Ensek range upgrade allowed in the vaguest of senses.

He couldn’t touch them, for most of them were out of his normal Ikrid range, but the Ensek psionic had a different biological transmitter that was capable of reaching much longer distances, including all the way up to orbit with Da’she increasing it. But in order to pass information from one to another you had to know where the other was, so Ensek allowed a very watered down version of Ikrid at those extreme ranges and Ryen was able to find three other Archons between himself and the shoreline.

“Cover me,” he told the Bsidd around him as he sat down on the sea floor and mentally disconnected from everything else, essentially turning himself into a transmitter that could relay his own or another’s telepathy across vast ranges, including the dense ocean that was blocking all native transmissions and limiting Star Force’s own super comm range significantly.

Three of the Iotas walked beside him on their 16 appendages and formed a defensive triangle. Ryen hadn’t picked up any minds nearby, but when he really stretched out the range like this he became vulnerable and he didn’t want to get in the habit of taking chances.

We’re here, he said to the mind some 12 miles away.

It took some time to get a response, for the Archon on the other end would have had to go through the same procedure to send a reply and she was a lot closer to the combat than he was.

We’re under the perimeter of the energy shield, but we can’t make the shore. The defenses here are too strong and all automated.

All?

Yes. The Hashvi aren’t fighting us directly, but they’re still killing a lot of Bandaii and they won’t stop the assault knowing their kind are about to be slaughtered.

Would we?

Not like this and I can’t talk sense into them. They’d rather die trying than sit by and let them be executed.

Where do you want us?

Not here. A lot of the defense units are mobile. Try and get by them to the south.

How blind are they?

They’re not. We’ve been finding and destroying buried cable links, but it doesn’t do us any good until we’ve taken them out already.

So there’s no good way in and you just want us chipping away somewhere?

Make them choose where to send backup. You or us. If they keep it on us push as hard as you can.

Understood. We’re on our way, he said, ending the telepathic link that always felt like it echoed somehow when used. When his senses returned to normal he felt the drops still occurring above him, but his Elarioni scouts were already here and waiting a few meters away wearing their own version of Star Force armor.

“Comm range is said to be around half a mile. Find out and establish a perimeter. The Bsidd aren’t that agile in the water, so we need to see where the threats are before we trip over them,” he said, then turned to one of his Bsidd commanders. “Get a comm buoy on the surface and keep us linked in with the others as much as possible.”

“Reports say the Hashvi are targeting the buoys.”

“I know, and it may not last. But if we can stay connected with orbit 2 minutes longer, I want those two minutes.”

The Bsidd needed no further explanation and jetted off at surprising speed back towards where the equipment drop was piling up. It included crates of supplies, weapons, and a couple aquatic mechs that were going to come in real handy, but Ryen’s toys hadn’t arrived yet and he couldn’t get a battlemap line to anything on the surface. His own transmitters were too weak to punch through the atmospheric haze the Hashvi were throwing up to further cloud attacking communications, but once his units got into the water he was able to pick them up so long as they didn’t get too far away.

As the Bsidd troops continued to congregate at waypoints that he or other set, the comm buoy floated to the surface and suddenly its much stronger transmitter/receiver was able to punch through the haze and connect them to the fleet in orbit that hadn’t yet won the naval front. The Hashvi had invaded this planet 2 years ago and been playing with its captured population ever since beneath an impressive armada and huge dome-shaped deflector shields that covered most of the land on the planet.

The Bandaii were amphibian and had colonized both land and water, but the Hashvi were not. Those caught on the surface had become a captive population while the fighting on the Bandaii’s third largest world had been pushed out into the oceans. The race hadn’t been faring well before The Nexus transfer, unlike others whose major threats were future ones, and had been fighting the Hashvi for more than a century. Then when it became public knowledge that The Nexus truly had pulled out the Hashvi had decided to mount a major offensive into this system to test both the Bandaii’s defenses and those of the new overlords.

It had cost them a lot, but they’d taken orbit and the land regions of the planet and were defiantly fortifying it against all opposition while openly mocking Star Force’s ability to protect the race that the Hashvi had claimed was their birthright to conquer. Now that their claim was being challenged directly and Star Force/Bandaii troops were nearing to breaching the opaque shield domes that prevented any knowledge of what was happening inside from getting out, and vice versa, scouts who had snuck near to the coastline and linked up with a few rebels within on short range comms had informed the Bandaii armies that civilians were being rounded up and ceremonially executed.

It was claimed to be for any number of propaganda reasons, but it was understood to be an act of desperation on the part of the Hashvi, for they feared they might lose control of this region soon and they didn’t want their captives to potentially be freed. Better to kill them while they still had control, but as of yet they hadn’t resorted to just mowing down everyone in sight. They were still playing with them and doing so in a slow and organized fashion.

How long even that would last was up in the air, but the Bandaii rebels were hell bent on getting in there and saving as many as they could and they weren’t listening to anything other than a full blown attack order from the Archons…who were going with them to try and help avoid any mindless attacks that would result from panicked rage. It wasn’t the best of situations to lead from, but leading they were.

Ryen was coming in with some of the few Star Force assets available, but fortunately there hadn’t been a lot of need for aquatics troops in other campaigns and the bulk of those forces had been devoted to the Bandaii, with a good chunk of them already sprinkle engaged across some 50 miles of coastline in order to get under the shield perimeter that extended out from the shore. Reports indicated that inside it they were getting bombarded with some type of artillery, but that was the last update he’d gotten before dropping off the transport…which had been on a quick in and out due to the Hashvi aerial fighters that were patrolling around the shield perimeter.

They were comm blinded by the haze, which was electromagnetic and visual, looking like a thin mist, but without naval dominance Star Force couldn’t secure the site so Ryen’s troops were being run in and offloaded quickly west of the main engagement and quite a ways back. Any closer in and the transports might have gotten shot down, and through the comm buoy he saw the exiting transports come under attack as they accelerated hard for orbit and returned fire with their decent complement of defensive weapons.

That part was done, at least. His troops were all here though scattered over three separate areas. They were barely in comm range, and even as he watched one of his scouts disappeared from an area beyond them…then came back in a few seconds later and placed a waypoint distance marker to indicate how far their battlemap would be useable in this sludge that passed for water. The thicker material also slowed their movements a bit, but otherwise it was normal combat conditions. This deep in the water you didn’t normally get much light anyway, and the few Elarioni he had wore armor that covered their entire bodies, so they no longer visibly glowed to give away their presence.

Several of the objects dropped off by the transports waited next to the mechs that were piloted by Bsidd, and when Ryen activated the miniature nexus programing in his armor he mentally connected to the 13 aquatic drones and brought them to life. It took a bit of focus away from his surroundings, but he didn’t intend to be doing a lot of hand to hand combat anyway. He was directing the others and now in personal command over the squid-like attack drones that massed as much as a small whale.

He would have preferred having actual aquatics warships, but the transports required to get those here could not get past the naval blockade until they thinned down the ships further, so they were waiting in high orbit but the situation with the Bandaii couldn’t wait, hence Star Force was running down what smaller equipment it could along with troops while the naval fleet bought time and poked holes in the blockade at the cost of losing multiple drones.

It also meant that Ryen wouldn’t be seeing orbit again anytime soon.

And for that reason some of the crates contained prefab structures that he ordered a group of the Bsidd to set up in a ravine half a mile further to the west. It would serve as a fallback point and a place to get food, water, and additional oxygen, armor repairs, etc. He thought this far out would be safe from attack, but he was leaving a decent amount of troops here to protect it and to set up permanent defense batteries that were also in the crates.

But Ryen didn’t need to stick around and oversee that, so once everyone was down and accounted for and they had their maximum spacing range set so they wouldn’t lose contact with one another in the mucky water, they all activated their armor jets and began trolling towards the distant shoreline. In the case of the Bsidd that was slightly faster than him, for their normal body cavities that were left as empty space in commando armor were not underwater. Rather, those spaces were filled with equipment and weapons, including more powerful navigation jets that caused them to become hybrid soldiers/ships with appendages sticking out and trailing in the water behind them.

And the Elarioni scouts were even faster, with their jets adding to their already impressive natural speed, leaving Ryen the slowest of the group save for the mechs. Everyone adjusted their pace to them while the Archon tried to navigate using what little the sensors of his entire unit could tell him of the seafloor. It wasn’t flat in most places, with lots of jagged outcroppings and spires that rose up but did not fully connect to the surface. Those would have made it tricky for warships to navigate around anyway, but if necessary the smaller ones could have been cut away.

As it was, there was a lot of terrain to move through and most of it was invisible to Ryen until it got within 300 meters. Their comms might punch farther than that, but their sensors didn’t. For that reason they all had to stay in formation and share data, with the unit quickly passing out of range of the surface buoy, cutting his link to orbit and the other units that likewise had buoys up and functioning.

A group of his Bsidd were carrying additional cargo packages with more buoys, but he wasn’t going to leave a string of them for the fighters to pick off. He’d save them for later when needed, but it was obvious that this fight was going to be close quarters with the fog of war dominating. If the automated defenses ahead, wherever they were, could communicate and share information across landlines they’d have a huge comm range advantage, but their sensors would probably be even less effective than Ryen’s. He was going to have to use that to his advantage, for this entire peninsula was reported to be surrounded with heavy underwater defenses and the single land approach wasn’t much better.

Most of that coastline had been evacuated by the Hashvi, moving the populace into controllable areas, but they’d thrown up shields covering the empty land areas anyway to prevent troops from dropping on them. They wanted to force a water fight, or at least a water landing, with their aerial craft just waiting to pick off whatever transports attempted to get to land, for they could get through the shield at various points and no doubt had plenty of reinforcements inside to poach the few miles of ocean under the protective veil even if landing craft got underneath it.

The Hashvi had set up an unbeatable defense line against the Bandaii, and it was up to Star Force to find a way to get through…and to do it without getting the Bandaii army killed in the process.

Ryen wasn’t going to have to worry about working with them, for they were all involved in the heavy assault to the north. He was going to approach on the south side of the peninsula that had its land bridge to the east. If reports of mobile units were accurate, most should have been heading to the west and circling around the perimeter, but he doubted they had all left. Making sure to avoid whatever was there, he drifted his forces far to the south to avoid the western defense line, taking him further and further away from the main engagement.

It wasn’t until they were within 4 miles of the shore that they picked up their first contact. A stationary turret attached to the side of an underwater natural pillar. Ryen had the Elarioni move ahead while the rest of his unit held position. They disappeared from his battlemap for quite a while, then eventually returned and updated his map with hundreds of turrets spaced ahead of them.

He pulled up a diagram of one, limited as it was, and he saw ports on the exterior that suggested it was a projectile launcher of some sort, and he doubted it was line of sight. Torpedoes were something Ryen could deal with easily, but his Bsidd were another matter. They had intercepts loaded into their armor, but it was a limited supply and if this was a taste of the defenses ahead they’d run out of defensive ammo long before they got near the shield perimeter, let alone the shore.

“Alright guys, time to get to work,” he said, talking to the mech pilots. “Need you to punch a hole through a turret field with extreme caution. We don’t know how many turrets there are and I assume an insane amount, so conserve armor at all costs. Primary targets,” Ryen said, transmitting them tags on the first five turrets he wanted taken down.

6

“Yes, Archon,” the Bsidd Delta piloting one of the aquatic mechs confirmed. “It will be done.”

Seeing the targets marked ahead he got the mech up off the seafloor and hovered it forward along with its twin off to the left. He crept in gradually until he got an active sensor ping off the closest of the turrets, then stopped and held position. No return fire came, suggesting that they had a range advantage on them.

Prepping a small test missile, he fired off a single shot that wove its way around a swirling current only to impact a defense shield several meters out from the turret itself. A stab of ruby red light shot back in the general direction the missile had come, but only made it three quarters of the way through the water until the energy was dissipated and traveling up to the surface in a line of bubbles.

The delta, which stood some 7 feet tall and was referred to as a ‘tribush’ had three rows of appendages running in strips from its head down to its wider base. It had no central leg shunts like some of the other variants had, but rather the bottom appendages on the three sides were extra thick. They angled laterally more than vertically, giving the Bsidd the appearance of an ugly Christmas tree on a stand, save for this one had very quick reflexes and a steady nerve. Not all mech pilots were deltas, but a fair amount of them were due to their even temperament coupled with the ability to handle a lot of information hitting them in a short amount of time.

‘Don’t poke the tiger’ was a common explanation of the way they thought, often appearing stagnant while they waited for a task, but give them one and they’d pursue it relentlessly…but not recklessly.

Which is exactly what was needed now, for with it being established that missiles couldn’t breach the shield on a single hit, the aquatic mech extended a shield column through the water until it touched the enemy shield, then it delivered through the vacuum in the invisible tube a miniaturized cleansing beam that popped the shield in an instant and continued on to core a deep hole in the exterior of the turret, though dampened slightly by the few meters of water it vaporized on the way through.

With the shield down the Bsidd extended the column all the way up to the surface of the boxy device that was the size of a house and switched weapons, sending a Ta’lin’yi burst through that gutted the inside of the turret as a single missile made its way out. The shockwave for the explosion rocked the mech back and jostled the infantry further behind, but the target was successfully destroyed and was eliminated from the active battlemap, though the location of the dead turret was still marked for other purposes.

The missile, apparently not having gotten a sensor lock on the mech, trolled around aimlessly until it quickly ran out of power, then the mech extended a shield column to it and destroyed it.

“Well done,” Ryen said approvingly. “Keep picking them off patiently and watch for a counterattack. They’re not going to let us keep doing this indefinitely.”

The Bsidd did as instructed and worked through the targets one at a time while the other mech did the same, cutting a corridor through the turret field for the infantry to pass through. After taking down dozens each they finally got their response in the form of a swarm of tiny attack craft. They were the size of missiles, but they didn’t explode on impact. Rather they swam up to the mech and bumped into it, releasing an energy discharge that it took on its skintight shield perimeter.

At the rate they were discharging it would take hundreds of thousands of hits to take the mech’s shields down so the Bsidd didn’t bother attacking them, rather it continued forward with the little minnows nibbling away at it and proceeded to take down another turret.

Ryen waited behind the mechs with the rest of the infantry as the little attack craft found both mechs and began to attack them, unable to get through the shields but filling the space around the machines with fizzing bubbles from the spillages of their point blank discharges into the surrounding water. According to the information from the other engagement zone that he’d gotten before submerging, these little attack craft were dangerous to infantry but only in groups of 5 or more. They’d eat through shield recharge rates with enough attacks, but to the lightly armored Bandaii they were deadly.

“Pull back,” he ordered his Elarioni scouts, unsure of whether or not they could outswim these things just as one of them spotted more mobile contacts coming in of a larger variety.

“The mechs are vulnerable,” one of them warned as Ryen saw her reverse course on the battlemap.

“I know,” he said, shooting forward on his jets and ordering the Bsidd to come with him. “We have to stand our ground against this wave and thin them out. Pull back inside the shield generators.”

“On the way.”

Ryen swam up near to the leftmost mech as he put a waypoint down in between the two machines to set up the equipment on. Some of the Bsidd moved to secure that location while several dozen came with Ryen and went after the little attack craft trying to suck down the shields on one of the mechs. The infantry didn’t have shield columns to extend, but they did have torpedoes and the Archon authorized them to use some of them now, with tiny streaks coming off the Bsidd and heading towards the mech. A moment later there was a storm of discharges and vaporized water that rose up in a maelstrom towards the surface, eventually leaving the mech standing exactly where it had been before with far fewer attack craft around it, though some had only got buffeted upwards and were now swimming back down to it.

Ryen ordered the mech to move closer to the central waypoint and dig in as he jetted ahead and fired up the mauler gauntlet on his left arm. It telescoped out past his hand into a small lance attached to his forearm that held a glowrod-like shield column 9 inches long that lit up the dark water around him. When he got to the mech several of the attack craft switched to target him but he held them in place telekinetically as he ordered the Bsidd to hold back and cover him from afar with missiles if needed.

The one little machine that did get through to him he stabbed with the lance, breaking the tip of the containment shield and shooting the mauler energy inside and exploding the thing within half a second. The shockwave knocked him back and he lost his grip on the others for a moment until the churning water settled down, then he grabbed one with his right hand and squeezed, keeping its dangerous tip away from his body as he tested the strength of the material. It gave under the pressure but would not break until he added his telekinesis to it, which allowed him to snap the thing in half, disconnecting the weapon from the drive and crushing the power cell in the process.

With that knowledge he knew he could kill a lot of these things single handedly and keep them from making contact with him thanks to his psionics, but they could overwhelm the Bsidd if too many of them came into play…plus there were the larger ones coming in.

He updated the battlemap with waypoints for all of his units and they immediately began to redeploy into their engagement zones as the mech Ryen was peeling the elongated footballs off of continued walking to its position. When it finally got there Ryen pulled back and gave it the go ahead to stop targeting turrets and begin point defense.

The giant pointy legs dug into the soft seafloor as it claimed its position, then the shields went down in several places as panels opened up and the ‘sea vines’ shot out, curling around at sharp angles to impact the attack craft with the glowing buds along their length that contained similar mauler energy to that in Ryen’s gauntlet, only far more was contained in each bud. The attack craft popped instantaneously whenever one was struck and the vines actively sought out contact, whipping around and jabbing when needed and always avoiding one another. They gave the Zyra-class mech its name and made it a very tough fixed position to tackle with more and more panels opening up as swarms of addition attack craft flowed in, though a lot of them diverted to go for the infantry that soon came into view.

Ryen and the Bsidd engaged them with their own small clusters fighting back to back until the shield generators came online. Rather than creating a protective dome around everyone in play they created strategic walls wherever Ryen dictated. These forced the attack craft to either target them and waste energy that otherwise could have been used against the troops inside, or cause them to divert around and into the openings where the Archon was stacking overwhelming firepower, including some mobile turrets that were mounted on the seafloor with Bsidd operating them from inside another tiny shield bunker.

The blue streaks coming from those shot into the swarms, blasting through several of the small craft to target the bigger ones coming in. They were far larger than Ryen and the Bsidd, massing as much as an aerial fighter, and flew into battle yielding a smaller version of the ruby beams that the enemy turrets had at the mechs…who responded with a mix of cleansing beams and sea vines, one of which wrapped all the way around one of the ‘Alphas’ as Ryen quickly referenced on the battlemap and sent his squid that had been patiently waiting behind the formation on ahead to engage the dozens that were coming up on their fortified position.

Remote controlling them with his mind, Ryen pulled back and let the Bsidd infantry handle the attack craft getting through while he steered the squid outside the shield perimeter and attacked the incoming Alphas before they could get within sensor range of the mechs. Keeping within his own comm range restrictions, Ryen ambushed the Alphas by locking onto them with a squid each and destroying it with a combination of sheer physical pressure from the tentacles and from the energy discharge from the ‘mouth’ at the base of the craft, then moved on to target another and another as swarms of attack craft retargeted the squids instead of the infantry.

If this was only a sample of the reception the Bandaii and the other Star Force units were receiving, then he understood why they were being held up and the frustration of the locals, for there was no quick way to push past these defenses and he had no idea how many more units the Hashvi had in reserve.

13 hours later…

Ryen ducked under the giant shield dome the Hashvi had set up, for it came down all the way into the water a few meters, but when the Archon came up on the other side and got his head above water he immediately made contact with the battlemap signals coming from the other Star Force units, for the haze wasn’t inside. Immediately he saw giant towers in the distance just short of the shoreline that reached up into the sky and contacted the shield dome. They were the haze generators that were pumping it out into the atmosphere to block comms but the scores of aerial fighters inside did not have that limitation. He could see swarms of them in the distance assaulting the troops on the far side of the peninsula from high above.

But they weren’t just there. About 50 or so were in the sky above him, and as he watched energy mortars from the shore began to fire towards his position. He tracked them carefully, ordering his troops to fall back beneath him, then watched in horror as they punched down through the relatively calm surface water inside the dome and created a pyre of steam all the way down to the sea floor…meaning his troops couldn’t use the depth to their advantage.

“Shit,” he said, keeping his helmet just above the water line and watching. It was an ingenious defense system. Leave enough water to slow any troops enough that the mortars could chew them up before they got to land or force a reckless charge through a field of underwater turrets that would do just the same…and all of it was automated, save for the fighters in the sky and maybe the gunners for those mortars. He didn’t know for sure but he planned to find out in person when he got there, but the question was how was he supposed to get his troops through this?

“Ryen, how you doing?” a voice came through his helmet comm.

“Observing the magnificent view from inside the shield. How the hell are you making any progress?”

“The Bandaii are dying for it. I was hoping you would have better luck.”

“I just made it into position and my troops are still intact, but I don’t see a good way past those mortars and we’ve got birds in the sky just waiting to dive bomb us. You’re not to shore yet,” he noted, catching up on the battlemap telemetry being transmitted above water, “have you just been tanking hits to get that far?”

“Yes,” she said regretfully, “but we’re stuck between a wall of Alphas and Betas. I’ve tried to get past personally but it’s no good. There are too many of them here and the Bandaii are dying by the thousands trying to contend this.”

“Well that’s good news,” Ryen said, referencing the enemy numbers, “because we haven’t seen any Alphas for the past hour.”

“If they run out we’ve got a chance. If not we’re going to get massacred.”

“Can you get the Bandaii to reposition?”

“They won’t pull back when their kin are being killed.”

“Can you get them to circle around and come through the corridor we cut in the defenses here?”

“That’s a big detour…but if there aren’t that many at your position and we could get some of the troops moved you might be able to punch through. I’ll see if they’ll go for it, but you’ll still have to face those mortars.”

“I know. We’ll hold here until I hear back from you and watch the pretty rain fall.”

And that’s exactly what he did. He kept his two damaged mechs and his handful of surviving squids back and sniped what turrets they could without getting in range of those mortar rounds, though they were close enough to feel the shockwaves from the disintegrated water spouts that shot nearly all the way up to where the fighters were lazily circling…which was probably why they were so high up, else they’d get splashed and maybe knocked out of the air by the steam spouts. The fighters didn’t look too sturdy, but…

“Cover me,” he told the Bsidd closest to him as he entered Ensek mode again, reaching out and confirming there were minds in the fighters but they were too far away for him to affect. Ensek only worked with others that had the same ability, and in order to even shout at these pilots he needed them to get within Ikrid range.

He needed them directly overhead, which meant baiting them in somehow.

Ryen released his Ensek meditation and told the Bsidd to hold position as he moved laterally along the shield line for several hundred meters. He doubted they would put a mortar round into their own shield, but if he saw one coming in at him he’d have a chance of ducking under it and getting on the other side before it hit.

When he got far enough away from the others he swam to the surface and got his shoulders above water and began flashing targeting lasers on the aerial craft as if to mark them. He kept it up for several minutes before two of them broke formation and flew in lower towards him, away from the ongoing mortars that were keeping his troops back further south. When they got close they opened fire, stitching steam plumes across the surface near to him, but he didn’t duck back underwater. Instead he put all shield power forward and threw up an additional bioshield just in case they managed to hit him as he extended his Ikrid out as far as he could and targeted one of the fighters.

As they swooped in closer and the shield wall directly behind him took hits, one of the fighters broke off its attack, slowing to a hover over the water and approaching Ryen casually as the other swerved off to avoid hitting the shield wall and circled back around for another pass.

The Archon dove forward and jetted as fast as his armor could carry him across the surface, knowing that there were several turrets nearby and hoping he wasn’t going to pass into their extreme range. Several ruby streaks came his way but fell short, blasting up steam into the air nearby the fighter as it finally got to him. He clung to the underside of it as he held the pilot’s mind in his grasp, then had it rocket back up into the sky like the other one had before any missiles could get to him, hoping no one noticed the bit of baggage it was now carrying underneath. With his armor’s grip pad locking him on tight he had the fighter resume normal operations that he could sense through the pilot’s mind and had him do what he normally did as they moved back into their patrol patterns high above.

7

After a few minutes of obscurity and closely monitoring comm traffic and sensors via the pilot’s odd mind, Ryen caused him to break formation. He headed down past the coastline and executed a diving loop, at the bottom of which Ryen let go…falling about 50 meters and using his Lachka in ‘crashbag’ mode to cushion his landing. He hit the moist dirt and his feet dug in several inches, then he was sprinting towards the nearest mortar battery as he reached inside with his mind and disabled the gunner.

He got to the hatch without anyone noticing or shooting at him, then pulled it open and dove inside with his mauler gauntlet extended. The insectoid inside took the hit on its triangular head, removing half of it in the process. Ryen torched the controls so the battery would be unusable then hopped back outside and began sprinting across to the next one.

By then he’d been spotted and three of the aerial fighters fired at him for a brief moment before they suddenly rammed into the ground and pancaked on the hard rocks beneath the thin soil layer. Ahead of Ryen there were infantry crawling out of bunkers and rushing him, but with a wave of Fornax he knocked them down as he ran through and past, not having the luxury of sticking around to kill them. He kept interfering with any attempts to stop him, drawing heavily on his psionics due to the fact that he wasn’t carrying a rack of weapons like he would on his commando armor, and got to the next mortar turret and went to work on it.

Three more after that and he had a blind spot established, which he let everyone know while taking a short respite in the cover of one of the now dead batteries as the infantry tried to sweep around both sides to get at him.

“Mortars have been neutralized along this corridor,” he said as he put down waypoints on the battlemap. “Underwater defenses are still intact, but takeable. Recommend sending the Bandaii this way immediately.”

After that he didn’t have time to chat, for he had to disable more of the skittering infantry as one in the back of the group he mowed down got a pistol shot off and it hit him in the leg. His shields held, but this wasn’t the first strike he’d taken and he couldn’t take too many without adequate time to recharge in between. To that end he sprinted towards one of the Hashvi bunkers with the intent to go inside and hold out there, despite the unknown numbers involved.

Ryen pulled down another pair of fighters that got too close, smashing one of them into a group of infantry and killing more than 20 of them with the impact. He didn’t have time to do much more than run and react until he got to one of the subterranean bunker’s entrances. As he did they were trying to close the doors on him, but a Jumat push cleared out the infantry behind the lowering panel and allowed him to slide underneath before it came down all the way…stranding the infantry outside for the moment and leaving him with only those inside to deal with.

He had a hallway and a few dozen here, so he used a Fornax blast and took them down, claiming a pair of their pistols and putting phaser-like streaks of red into them as his shields recharged. More kept trickling in and he kept killing them, eventually recovering enough shield strength to push on and further into the bunker…which he discovered around the new few corners to be a lot larger than it looked on the surface.

There were several football fields worth of deck space holding a significant army that was no doubt being reserved for if the Bandaii got to the shore, including tanks and a huge amount of infantry that were all looking at him.

“Back…” he told himself as he retreated into the hallway and decided to hold out there. They’d have to come at him in small groups and he’d own them in that style of combat, but with a quick review of his helmet cam he tagged several entrances on the far side of that chamber that held passageways big enough for the tanks to move through laterally and the Archon got the feeling that this might be an interconnected network rather than just one bunker. The Hashvi had had plenty of time to build after taking this planet, and if Ryen’s gut was right, there was a nasty surprise awaiting the Bandaii.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, finally realizing what was going on and checking his comm to find that the bunker was blocking his signals and probably sensors on top of that. The Hashvi couldn’t fight the Bandaii that well in the water, not with so much ocean to hide in, so they were forcing them onto land and setting a trap to wipe them out. And the thing of it was, even if the Bandaii learned of this here and now, they wouldn’t stop their assaults elsewhere because their captured people were on the clock, meaning they’d charge to their deaths just as the Hashvi wanted.

“They’re playing them like a drum,” Ryen said as he headed back to the entrance, finding no controls to open the door with, so he reached out telepathically looking for a control center as he fought and killed wave after wave of infantry coming at him with the bodies beginning to pile up. It took him far too long, but he finally found a group of stationary minds below him that were orchestrating not only the troops in this bunker but running part of the underwater campaign.

Making a quick decision, he reversed course and fought his way through both the living and dead until he came back to the larger chamber, taking a moment to recharge his shields behind the bloody meat wall, then running outside, pushing through the assembled infantry near the doorway and hoping not to get hit too much as a light show of red streaks aimed for him. He surged as much speed as he could in his aquatics armor, heading across clear walkways for the passage he’d gleaned from the minds in the control room that was down a set of stairs and two levels lower.

It was a gauntlet he had to run, but by the time he’d made it into the blissfully narrower corridor and out of the firestorm he was feeling multiple heat spots on his right arm and leg where his shields had gone down and his armor had taken hits. No penetrations were registered on his HUD, but he now had weak points that couldn’t take another hit without chewing out some of his flesh in the process.

Ryen took down the gathering infantry in his way and eventually came to a locked blast door that he simply had the minds behind open for him. He didn’t shoot the six Hashvi there, rather sealing himself in with them and using the enemy controllers to operate and interpret the systems available to them…or rather just one of them as holding all 6 minds at the same time would have been too much of a strain. He rendered four of them unconscious and kept another frozen to get information from as he played puppeteer with the other, shutting down as much of the underwater defense network as he had access to.

Unfortunately his comm wouldn’t work in here either, so as the infantry tried to shoot their way through the blast door he knocked out the remaining two Hashvi and centered himself, extending his Ensek out through the otherwise impermeable material and looking for the Archons on the other side of the peninsula. When he found one he relayed the information about the clear approach then quickly got his senses back into combat mode while the door still held, though it was beginning to glow in several spots.

With the message delivered his duty was obvious. Hold this location and make sure they didn’t reactivate the defenses…and without their tanks able to get to him here, or any swarming tactics for that matter, he just had to play king of the hill and with his psionics, even drained as they were, there was no way the Hashvi were going to remove him. The Bsidd would have a clean approach long enough to permanently disable the turrets, and then the Bandaii would have a chance at a ground war…one that didn’t look to be all that much in their favor.

2 days later…

“How are you holding up?”

Ryen looked up from his seated position on one of the Bandaii streets’ curb barriers, his armor now charred and little bits of flesh along with it. The Archon before him wasn’t much better off, but it didn’t look like any of her melted spots had burnt all the way through.

“I’ll live,” he said, looking around at all the dead in the streets, both Hashvi and Bandaii.

“I would have been worse without us here,” she said, guessing as to his thoughts.

“It’s bad enough,” he argued, standing up and facing her. “They’re not Star Force.”

“Not yet. But a lot of them have a chance to be because we were here.”

“How can you be ok with this?”

“Because I set my mind to it before I arrived. This is the chaos and carnage that we have to fight against out here. It’s not simply going to disappear because we arrive. It’s going to get worse. A lot worse now that The Nexus has pulled out. We have to do what we can, when we can, and right now, here, on this planet, it was helping the Bandaii win.”

“They’re supposed to take orders from us.”

“If there were Archons dying would you take orders from a dragon saying to stand by and wait because a rescue was too risky, or would you go in anyway and try to fight your way through?”

“Archons know how to fight and how to run when necessary.”

“But the Bandaii don’t. This was all they had to work with, and it was either fight messy or stand by and watch their kin be executed. They don’t have good options and have to make do with what they do have. We won’t sink to their level, but they are on their level and we can’t elevate them quickly enough. This is crappy, but we’re the shining gems in all of it and we helped them win. They’re clinging to that to get them through this, so stop sitting around moping and be the good guy. We didn’t cause this, so stop feeling responsible. In order to lead them out of darkness we must plunge in headfirst and yank them out. It’s not going to be clean, and it should be disturbing. Don’t numb it out, but don’t dwell on it. We fight honorable, these guys don’t have a clue what that is, and I’d rather them fight poorly than stand around and get killed.”

“I’m not moping,” Ryen clarified, but her words had helped him refocus. “I’ve got burns and it hurts to move.”

“Can you work your Sesspik on the go?”

Ryen sighed. “What do you need?”

“We need to lead, and we can’t do that from behind. This city is a mess and we need to start giving orders to get it cleaned up before the Hashvi decide to hit it again, though I don’t think they have the troops to do it. And I’m pretty sure this whole world is a throwaway from their leadership’s point of view, but we need to act. The Bandaii need to be led right now, more than ever. Either do that or get yourself back to orbit and heal.”

Ryen glanced to his left at the street with all the dead in it. Nobody had even started to pick them up yet and the bodies were oozing puddles of purple and brown blood, some of which were flowing into one another and mixing with an even sicker coloration.

“It feels like we shouldn’t even be a part of this, but I can’t fault your logic.”

She put an armored hand with a melted patch on her thumb on the side of his arm that wasn’t hurt. “It helps to work through this beforehand, but as long as you’re here you just need to run and gun. We didn’t cause this, we helped stop it, and we’re going to teach the Bandaii how to fight properly when we’ve got the time.”

“There are way too few of us out here.”

“How much can a single Archon accomplish in a nightmare situation?” she said, putting his thoughts into words. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”

Ryen half smiled, realizing she was right as that simple sentence peaked his competitiveness just enough to clear his mind of the dark haze and make him realize he’d gotten in too deep and lost his perspective.

“Challenge accepted,” he said, immediately feeling better. “Where do you want me?”

“Good boy,” she said patronizingly. “Just roam the city and look for places to make a difference. If we get anything organized I’ll let you know, but right now we need to be seen leading so the Bandaii don’t go crazy with despair…or worse.”

“Prisoners?” he asked darkly.

“I don’t know yet. But if there are…”

“Right,” Ryen said, suddenly feeling the urgency. “Are we setting up a safe zone?”

“How are your troops holding up?”

“Licking their wounds. They’re pretty beat up, but everyone is still alive. We had to make use of the Bandaii as distractions.”

“They were going to die regardless, so you should have used them,” she said in a tone that held no room for debate. “Can you set up base with what you have?”

“Yes, but I really don’t think they’re up to fighting the Bandaii if they want to start taking out their grief on the wounded.”

“We’ll jump off that bridge when we get to it. I’ve got a few transports standing by in orbit for another drop run. We’re just waiting for an opening.”

“I’ll get you a secure LZ,” he said, walking off down the street and looking away from her, “and thanks.”

“Got your back,” she said amicably, then ran off another direction into the war torn city.

Ryen eventually found his way back to the shoreline with his shields keeping the water off his injuries as he walked back beneath the semi-calm surface. The shield generator in the city had been kept intact and was now in Bandaii hands so that the orbital fleet couldn’t rain down bombardment on them to spoil their victory, and it was knocking down most of the ocean waves that were now slowly becoming visible as the haze outside began to dissipate slightly. They’d shut off the local generators, but there was so much built up in the atmosphere it wasn’t going to clear anytime soon.

When the Archon got underwater several floating figures were waiting for him. He could have contacted them via comm, but he preferred face to face.

“How do we look?”

“The Bandaii are severing the control lines as directed,” the Elarioni said. “The turrets will be recoverable later if we can get the necessary techs.”

“Mobile units?”

“We’ve intercepted several scouts. They are programmed to turn and run upon contact, but we did not let any that we observed get away. There have been no troop movements in this area to report.”

“Looking to see what the situation is?”

“Either for intel or to herald a new offensive,” the Elarioni speculated.

“Probably want to know how we got to shore.”

“How did we get to shore?” another of his scouts that had been unable to take part in the ground war asked.

“I took out a control hub…and the mortars.”

“Do they know this?”

“Depends how good their information sharing technology is. It’s possible it was all local, in which case the other Hashvi strongholds won’t know. But I’m not counting on that.”

“Your psionics?”

Ryen nodded, immediately regretting that unnecessary movement. “I doubt they realize we can control minds, but they’re probably beginning to suspect something unconventional is happening. The defenses here were more than enough to kill all the Bandaii. They laid a very good trap.”

“The Bandaii are planning to bring a comm cable in on this approach.”

“Cable?”

“Strung along the seafloor that will connect back to one of their bases.”

Ryen frowned. “Kind of gives away its location.”

“It does. They think this area is secure enough that they want the connection.”

“Up to shore or nearby?”

“They said it will connect to the existing infrastructure.”

Ryen looked at his battlemap, not seeing anything in the water around the city save for what the Hashvi put here. “If these guys are amphibian, why aren’t there structures in the water along the shore?”

“They have a binary civilization.”

Ryen frowned. “Explain.”

“Physically they can exist in either environment, but there are internal divisions that separate the air breathers from the water dwellers. The two groups are not always in unison.”

“Wonderful,” Ryen said, realizing that would be yet another hurdle for them to overcome while civilizing these people.

“Though the current situation seems to have pushed those divisions aside,” the Elarioni added.

“For now,” Ryen amended. “Best recommendations for our aquatic LZ?”

The Elarioni answered via the battlemap with four different waypoints as options, all of which were at least 8 miles from the shore and no more than 20. Ryen chose one and labeled it ‘Alpha Base.’

“Start relocating all our prefab structures there and set up camp. When we get the bigger pieces down here I want a minimum delay. This is our world now, even if we only own a tiny piece of it, so we need to start claiming it and setting an example of what true civilization looks like…before the chaos drives everyone mad.”

“The fighting was equally gruesome on the surface?”

“Yes, and just as many dead, but on both sides. We need a stabilizing rod established on land and in water…and you’re in charge of setting up the water one until we get another combat mission.”

8

December 19, 3463

Shemma System (Rim Region)

Asteroid Belt

Greg-073 stood in the command nexus onboard his command ship guiding it, two Star Force Ma’kri, and a fleet of over 8000 Tolsoi vessels as they engaged the Zargor around one of their own worlds. It was about as small of a planet as you could get, only some 300 miles wide, but it was the only inhabitation in the system and acted as a supply base for the wolf-like race as they were expanding out and attacking both the Tolsoi and dozens of other races in the region. Hitting it was skipping over multiple other conflicts, but Greg was insistent on sending the message to the enemy that their own holdings weren’t safe and that Star Force was willing to go on the hunt and not just play defense.

The Zargor ships were fat and bristling with weapons, most of which were short ranged and coupled with decent engines to get them within their preferred range quickly. The Tolsoi, on the other hand, had a mixed fleet of larger command ships, medium-sized carriers and cruisers, and smaller escort/picket ships. They also used starfighters, which Greg was holding back behind the fleet as they engaged with orders to standby for target assignment.

The Eternal Pyre was the class of the field and one of Star Force’s newest models of command ship, visually identical on the exterior save for more weapons ports, but drastically different inside as the entire design had been reworked around a Nash’ti reactor, or more accurately 7 small ones, with the core of the ship no longer containing a TF like the Alpha models did. This was a Beta, and designed for naval combat only.

That gave it a lot bigger punch and made it the predator in the field, to which the Zargor were attracted like moths to a flame…and in this case they were both getting burnt by it and being distracted from the Tolsoi as Greg didn’t hang in the back like their command ships did, rather he dove straight into the enemy and forced them to focus on him as his two flanking Ma’kri provided cover fire.

Right now this was a slugging match, for none of the Zargor’s fast Hunter-class ships had been in the system, giving the Tolsoi a movement advantage amongst their smaller ships which Greg had attacking and rotating back behind the larger ships before they could take serious damage. The Tolsoi now had their command and control linked into the Star Force systems and Greg had them all showing up on his battlemap, but they weren’t up to Star Force standards, despite the years of experience they’d gained already. The real Tolsoi Star Force fleet was in its infancy and not ready for heavy combat, but the Zargor had to be hit and he couldn’t wait another century or two while they gained experience in smaller battles and numbers grew. He had to make use of the old school Tolsoi, and making his own command ship the primary target was the best way to keep them alive and useful.

It was a tactic that the Zargor were not used to seeing. The Tolsoi had always tried to keep their command ship away from the enemy and used their weaponry as a last resort. It was standard practice to send in the smaller ships first to soften up the enemy before gradually sending the ones with more tonnage and less maneuverability…which was a tactic that Greg had struck down immediately. Right now the command ships were center in the formation, not in the back, and the smaller ships were circling around the medium ones at the front, with those to fall back behind the command ships if/when needed.

That would eventually move the command ships to the front lines where their bulk could be used to block the smaller vessels and allow them to recharge shields, thus extending their lifespans. Regardless of how he fought this battle, he was going to lose Tolsoi. Their ships were all manned, and the numbers here were not so small that they could get away with a clean victory. In fact, clean victories were a thing of the past for Greg, with him having to honor the Tolsoi by making their deaths count. And to do that he had to be aggressive and not protective of them. It wasn’t something that came naturally, but the Tolsoi crews all knew that they were fighting for the survival of their race and of their neighbors, so they were fully committed to the fight and relying on Greg to lead them…and lead them he was.

It was a type of combat he didn’t like, and that Star Force had never fought, but he was a trailblazer and was excelling at it regardless. He was winning battles that the Tolsoi would have lost if he had not been there, and keeping the losses in their victories much lower than expected. He focused on that fact whenever a ship was destroyed along with its crew, knowing that he had to stand by the Tolsoi now as a new fleet was constructed, else they’d be outmatched against the Zargor without his strategic cunning…and his badass flagship.

With the Zargor weaponry being primarily short ranged, it meant all of the Dre’mo’don cannons on the Eternal Pyre were within their kill zone and living up to that moniker. He left their individual targeting up to his remote pilots and Admiral while he focused on the Tolsoi fleet and their movements, issuing constant orders to crews and captains that still didn’t fully understand the logic behind such things, but they had come to trust in the trailblazer implicitly over the years of combat and the number of battles he’d seen them through, so they reacted instantly to his orders…as best they understood them.

It took a long time and a lot of carnage before Greg finally released the starfighters from their holding position, giving them orders to target damaged ships only and to remain at high attack speed…pushing through the engagement and not circling around within it. The Zargor had plenty of anti-air capability on their ships, so going up against them with small arms was suicide. What the starfighters did have was decent anti-ship missiles that had been reconfigured for early release, so they could be programmed with a target and let coast into range before activating and powering into detonation range.

That could keep the starfighters out of anti-air attacks, but the missiles themselves were still vulnerable to intercept…thus the need to attack damaged ships that may or may not have their anti-air knocked out or unpowered. Greg wanted the starfighters to add to the warships’ damage rather than trying to down their own targets, and given that these pilots were living longer than most under his guidance they’d started adhering to his rules of engagement.

Or more accurately, the ones that didn’t died and were weeded out, though that didn’t always hold true. A lot of good pilots following orders died as well, for there was almost no margin for error with the tiny ships. One good hit, or a lucky one, from a warship and they were toast, which was why Greg would only use them for support operations or bait, though the Zargor hadn’t chased after them this time as he’d hoped. They’d stuck with their prime target of Greg’s flagship, and not just because of the wicked amount of damage it could pour out. They wanted him eliminated, for he had already gained a reputation as the mastermind behind the Tolsoi resurgence and their stopping the Zargor assault on their territory cold whereas they’d expected them to eventually fold like all others did.

But that was another tactic that Greg could use, making himself the bait and riding it out in a very well armored decoy. The Zargor didn’t have enough ships here to take him down, so he let the Eternal Pyre eat up weapons discharges as the enemy ship count diminished rapidly. Unfortunately they didn’t all shoot at him, for they didn’t all have good firing lines, and some chose Tolsoi targets instead. When both fleets mixed together the battle became chaotic and Greg had to work his tail off to get the sluggish Tolsoi maneuvering as he needed.

They didn’t respond as fast as Star Force troops, whom he could order through the battlemap system as quickly as their own captains could, and Greg hated playing games with lag, especially when people’s lives were on the line.

He watched the starfighters streak in, thankful that the distraction had worked and the Zargor were too preoccupied with the warships to notice them. They shot in and out, launching missiles on the way and hitting unshielded enemy ships that were engaged with other vessels, tipping the scales in those engagements without drawing any considerable return fire.

One of the starfighters did get clipped in an explosion and became ballistic, but his comm system was still up and he was still alive. Greg sent three of the other starfighters after him on retrieval orders as he reformed and circled the starfighters around the main battle to set up another strafing run as a few weak spots on the Eternal Pyre’s shields momentarily collapsed and let a little weaponsfire through that licked away at the hull without doing much damage.

Several of the medium Tolsoi warships were racking up considerable damage, with Greg ordering them into a retreat through the other ships along specific lines, predictably dragging Zargor pursuit that wanted to finish them off before they could get away, directly into ambushes. Flanking ships crisscrossed over those routes and hammered the chasing ships with 3 to 1 or better advantages in numbers, knocking them down and allowing the damaged Tolsoi vessels to cycle back around behind the command ships as several of them now moved up to first position on what was left of the battle lines.

Within a few more minutes the fighting was over. It ended so suddenly he didn’t think the Zargor even realized what happened to the rest of their ships, so consumed with their targets and making kills. Their ships were considerably larger than the lizard cruisers, but they operated with a swarm mentality more focused on pursuit than self-sacrifice. Once attached to a target they didn’t like to lose it, making the basic Star Force fleet cycling patterns so disruptive to them. A good commander would learn to adapt, but for years these same tactics were getting the same responses from the enemy…and some of them had survived to tell the others what had happened, so there was no excuse for their stupidity.

Maybe he was just used to the adaptational skills of the lizards, to which these guys compared poorly. Then again, if he didn’t have a technological advantage their ‘pursue at all costs’ strategy would make engagements all in or run, and in that environment the more aggressive usually came out the winner, especially when they had superior engine power to run down fleeing ships. And if you knew you didn’t have numbers on them, you’d be reluctant to engage for fear of being pursued relentlessly.

The Zargor strategy was based on fear and intimidation as much as raw firepower, but with Star Force they’d finally found someone they couldn’t bully. The downside of that, though, was the Zargor wanted to keep bullying so they had to knock off those that stood up to them first, which had accelerated their assaults into Tolsoi territory and forced a much more rapid conflict than had been building up previously.

Then again, that also pulled Zargor ships off of other systems that couldn’t defend themselves, so it wasn’t totally a negative, but being the powerful good guys did have negative effects for your friends because you tended to draw the bad guys to you in some situations. The Tolsoi didn’t have a choice in the matter, for they couldn’t wait to build up resources. Star Force was their one and only hope and they were fully committed to fighting on their side, no matter how much escalation their arrival incurred.

When the warships were done hammering it out Greg didn’t wait to lick his wounds. He ordered retrievals for survivors while taking most of his fleet further in to the planet and within a few dozen miles of the surface. Gravity was inconsequential, and there was barely a trace of an atmosphere, but there was a sizeable base with a lot of warehouses and other support structures.

“Zargor, this is your chance to surrender and live. If you do not I am obliterating your surface facilities with my fleet. You have no defenses that can stop us,” he said, emphasizing that point by targeting the few weapons batteries that were firing up at his ship from the planet, again focusing the big ship rather than taking a shot at a smaller Tolsoi vessel. Their predator mindset didn’t match their visage, and right now he didn’t care if they stuck with it or surrendered. He needed to neutralize this base and get moving before another Zargor fleet could arrive.

“You have a few minutes to think it over,” Greg said, sending a countdown clock along with the transmission. “If you surrender you will not be killed or enslaved. If you do not surrender you will be killed, so the question is whether you want to live or die as target practice. Your choice, and make it quick.”

He’d given them 20 minutes, but it only took 4 before he received a response that was all venom and defiance. The trailblazer sighed, then went ahead and held to his 20 minute mark anyway as he gave the fleet firing orders to destroy and hopefully kill the inhabitants as quickly as possible rather than leaving pockets around to slowly die from the long list of ways one could expire stranded in space.

Less than 2 minutes to go he received another transmission from a different source on the planet requesting to surrender. He inquired as to the circumstances and found that there was a difference of opinion involved.

That settled the orbital bombardment, for even if one person wanted to surrender he was going to see they got the chance. He made arrangements for those surrendering to evacuate certain areas, then he began destroying those piece by piece until he started to receive more surrender requests in other areas. Greg continued the herding method until all the Zargor that wanted to live were in four different zones, all of which held spaceports. He let them board the cargo ships and leave the planet, not caring how tightly they had to pack in together to fit.

When they were gone he sent down a team do a psionic sweep for others and sure enough some had been left behind. Greg took those captive and brought them up to his command ship for safekeeping, and upon further interrogation found out they were the ones who had arranged the surrender. Their peers had deemed them unworthy and left them to die while they fled in their place.

Greg found that not only dishonorable but in denial. The surrender was the only reason they’d been allowed a chance to escape, but they’d labeled it as an act of cowardice then used it to survive. It was hypocritical and a sign of how the Zargor thought. Their way of doing things had to be proven correct, even when it obviously wasn’t, so they’d rewrite history and utterly deny what was right in front of them to make it fit…then eliminate anyone who pointed out otherwise.

No, these weren’t the lizards. Lizards were too damn efficient to waste time on lies, save for the templars. The Zargor were ego incarnate, and the lizards had none. The lizards would adapt while the Zargor stuck to their assertions, making the technologically superior foe the less dangerous. The Zargor were bullies in every sense of the word, and while not every person in a race or civilization was identical, he was getting a clearer and clearer picture of how they thought and operated.

These guys had to be defeated. Not just turned back, but taken out altogether. That would require going beyond the Rim Region, but it was something that had to be done eventually. There was no coexisting with them when they had what they thought was an advantage, and no negotiation was possible. The only way to make them back down was to show superior strength so vast that they wouldn’t dare strike. The Nexus was that power previously, but now it was gone and Star Force wasn’t dominant in this region. This war was going to be fought, bitterly, for a long time to come…and after all that, there was no way the Zargor were going to pull back and be allowed to retain their sovereignty.

They had to be taken out, and what was even worse was that there were other races out there just as bad. This entire region was full of weeds and thickets that had to be cleared away and Star Force didn’t have the resources to do it. Maintaining their allies and transforming them into true Star Force expansions was the immediate goal, and a tough one at that, but looking ahead as a trailblazer always did, Greg knew there was a bigger war that was going to have to be fought.

And it involved Star Force heading into the heart of Zargor territory and kicking their ass on their own turf.

9

January 3, 3464

Attikca System (Rim Region)

Outer Zone

Taria-38GV-97 was riding a dropship over from the mining complex on asteroid 3109 when a yellow alert pinged. She saw it on her armor the same as everyone else, but the pilot made an announcement anyway.

“Non-Star Force ships in the system. Shouldn’t affect this trip,” he said, referencing the distance between the red star where the alert had been triggered and the location of this strip of mining occurring in one of 219 different asteroid belts in the dead system. There were four gas giants that had probably eaten up some more of them, but there wasn’t a habitable planet amongst the rubble, let alone even a planetoid round enough to bear that label, and that was probably the reason why no one had colonized this system until Canderous had moved in to set up shop and built an impressive shipyard that was still being expanded upon as it produced badly needed drones for the Star Force fleet.

Taria wasn’t wearing combat armor, but given that the asteroid she’d been working on had no natural atmosphere they all wore work gear that was self-contained and doubled as low grade protection against weaponsfire, though it was more designed to resist cave-ins. She and the other miners were careful enough not to really need that function, especially with such low gravity to work in, but you never wanted to get caught between two pieces of rock without an exoskeleton. Human flesh ripped and squished easily, and without protection you’d just have to hope there was enough left of you for the medics to put back together later.

But compared to the hellish assignment she’d previously had in the Deterious System this was a walk in the park. There was no massive gravity wells to deal with, just a bunch of rubble floating around the system with a treasure trove of resources to plunder and more corovon than you could shake a Bsidd appendage at. It was also a very primitive system as far as neighbors were concerned, with little traffic passing through. Actually none, which was why any ship that did wander out this way would trigger a system-wide yellow alert, letting people know that there was another player on the field because Canderous had so many exposed work spaces that they were easy targets to anyone that got in close enough.

But there was a Canderous fleet protecting the system and Taria’s position was far outside stellar orbit. The yellow alert itself was laggy just traveling that far. If ships proved to be hostile or interested in snooping around the alert would go up to red and work groups like hers would stop what they were doing and get to shelter…but she was already on her way back to the seda, which is where the dropship would go even if the alert had been red.

The big green sphere was also the ship that brought her into the system, along with the 538 others in the Canderous convoy. Each of them had a beefy gravity drive that made them far more than space stations and had carried them all the way out from the ADZ where they were built. They were all newer constructions, for the older gravity drives just didn’t have the speed needed for such a long journey and a lot of them were too big to be carried on the grid point system. That meant they’d had to take the long route, though they’d managed a few black hole jumps on the way to speed things up now that Star Force had secured and was routing as much connecting traffic as they could through those speedy links.

But this system was far from any of them and situated in a dead zone within the Killik subregion that was overseen by Clan Joanna, though Canderous wasn’t officially working with them. They were an independent placement by Director Davis in order to give the subfaction/faction a base of operations in the Rim Region and this system was definitely well stocked for that purpose.

As for their status as a faction…that was still largely debated. There were never any official pronouncements of such things, but a faction was the highest level within Star Force and was said to cover all 5 areas of combat…naval, aerial, mechs, commando, and aquatics…which Canderous did, but they did not put down permanent residences on planets and therefore did not have any aquatics colonies, only a handful of mining outposts. That was a point of contention with those people that said Canderous was a subfaction because of that limitation, but the Canderians were adamant that they could fight anywhere at any time and that was all that was necessary for faction status.

And they were a faction that kept mostly to themselves. There were no non-Humans within Canderous save for a rare few advisors or work-related partnerships that they formed. All Canderians came through their own maturia systems which were onboard their sedas, which meant that all the population in this system was going to be grown right here on these massive space stations. A population boost order had been issued once they’d arrived, making it official policy to get as many females pregnant as were willing and Taria had given birth to another Canderian just three months ago, but she wasn’t going to do so again for some time. She’d contributed to the order, but she didn’t want the layoff from work that it’d mandated for her happening again.

There were population limits on the sedas, for there was only a set amount of space to be used. Flexibility was designed into the stations but for the type of growth that was being requested one needed to build more sedas…which was already underway along with the drone production. The first thing they’d done when they’d gotten here 29 years ago was to set up mining operations, into which they funneled the raw materials to a shipyard construction project. Now that shipyard was the largest in the Rim Region and was producing the sedas they needed to expand their operations.

But they would not be alone out here. They were but the foundation for which many more Canderians would be traveling out to once they got a proper transit system established, and it was rumored that The Nexus was going to move one of their grid points all the way into Star Force space to link to the one in the H’kar territory. If and when that happened, or a formalized trade route was established, Canderian ships that were far faster than the sedas would be bringing out the experienced combat personnel needed in what was a candy zone to the Canderians.

They lived and breathed war, in all its forms, but they’d had far too little to do in their long history up until they were really let loose against the lizards, but even then they were often holding the line rather than pushing combat on the front, for that’s what sedas were good for. Holding territory.

Now that was exactly what was needed out here, and Canderous thrived more in frontier regions than it did in civilized ones. For that reason the Sen Legats had insisted that Canderous be included, and heavily included, in this war theatre. Taria had been quite pleased when the announcement came through, as were most Canderians, and she had been even more pleased when her requested transfer orders arrived.

You couldn’t move planets, but Canderous didn’t live on planets, so if you needed to bring civilization to the barbarous regions of the galaxy who did you send? Not the Bsidd, or the Calavari, or the Protovic. You sent Canderous, and the moment they arrived they were just as strong as when they’d left, because they took their homes and military bases with them…but what was needed out here was much, much more, hence this base of operations that was going to be making a lot of the equipment that the soldiers being shipping out here eventually would use.

At which point they’d begin expanding their powerbase outward and locking down the surrounding region, daring any malcontents to challenge them and eagerly awaiting their stupidity in doing so. Canderous wanted to fight, and there was no shortage of enemies out here in the Rim Region. Far more than anyone could handle, hence Canderous was in a state of glee, with only the limiting factor of building new equipment putting any damper on their collective state of euphoria.

But their infrastructure was stretched out here, in this empty, out of the way system in order to maximize the speed of the mining process. That left them vulnerable to a savvy opponent, which was why they were taking any ships jumping into the system serious, even if all they were doing was passing through.

Yet her dropship returned to Seda DSB without incident, sliding into one of the hangar bays and dropping them off on full gravity plating before shipping back over to the asteroid. There was a constant flow of the little ships running around the clock, for Canderous had no ‘night’ in their civilization. Everyone worked and lived in shifts that overlapped to keep the faction running at peak efficiency nonstop.

So when Taria got back she immediately headed to a cafeteria to eat before returning to her quarters and getting some sleep before tomorrow’s shift. As she sat at a table and slowly mowed down her impressive tray of foodstuffs the Dapifer watched a news report that detailed mostly internal activities among the sedas, but it also had a substory about the yellow alert that she was watching when it suddenly turned red.

Nearly all the heads in the cafeteria turned to look as their attention was caught over the next few seconds as images from the star showed not one, but hundreds of ships coming out of a jumppoint in staggered convoy. They didn’t match any known design or affiliation, nor were they simply transitioning around the star to another jumppoint, for some of them were headed further out into the system to where the closest sedas were in the innermost asteroid belt.

Taria watched while she ate as the newsvid detailed the warships being sent to intercept them prior to their arriving at their sister sedas.

Legat Narion-127CT-19 was in the Canderian command ship at the center of the 18 vessels that were moving to intercept the arriving fleet. The other ships in his group were all remotely controlled from his vessel, but it wasn’t a jumpship and they weren’t drones. All of them were warships Cruiser-class and above, with his being a battleship that rivaled even the standard Star Force command ships for size and strength, though it wasn’t donut shaped. Rather it was shaped like a hammer with a Y-shaped tail coming off it, and on the reverse side of the hammer were two large bays that contained starfighters, all remotely controlled, but a piece of technology that the rest of Star Force did not employ.

Narion didn’t release them early, knowing they were safest inside the warships and realizing that deploying them in the wrong situation would quickly mean their destruction. How a naval commander utilized starfighters was a sign of prestige among the Canderians, for the Archons didn’t think they were worth the effort and whenever someone successfully utilized them it was a mark of pride for their entire civilization…and a mark of shame if the Archons were proved correct and they were just wasted.

As the Legat brought his battle group in towards the approaching ships other battle groups were repositioning around the system, but he was to have first contact. As eager for battle as the Canderians were, they were still Star Force and they were going to make sure that whoever they were about to attack deserved it, hence a range of communications inquiries were sent out in multiple languages and formats.

But before their signals could even reach the interlopers the Canderians received a message. It wasn’t on Star Force frequencies, but it was partially formatted in their style. The language wasn’t immediately recognizable, but the Canderian linguists quickly narrowed it down to a hybridized version of a local language they had in their databanks and worked out a decent translation, which they sent to the Legat’s personal display on his command chair.

He read through it, his face grim. It wasn’t a declaration of hostilities or a threat to remove them from the system, nor was it a request that they do so. This race was called the Bwetti, and the still materializing fleet arriving at the jumppoint was all that was left of their civilization. The Hasgoul, another race that was just a mere mention in the Canderian notes, had invaded and taken over their world, with this fleet being made up of now refugees who had come here deliberately seeking Star Force.

Apparently the Canderian presence in the system wasn’t as low key as Narion had thought, and as he read through the long message his hopes of seeing combat today withered, for the Bwetti stated that they’d been traveling for some 8 months without pursuit to get here. That meant no Hasgoul or anyone else to fight…and a growing fleet of people looking for help that the Canderians probably couldn’t provide, but that wasn’t for him to decide. He was tasked with this battlegroup, not the logistics of the star system.

Narion sent a return message, scripted as best the linguists could manage, and defined a set of holding coordinates for the arriving fleet while sending some of his ships to guard the jumppoint just in case the Bwetti were wrong about being followed. He also put ships into a perimeter around the holding area to make sure they didn’t go beyond it, for the status of this race wasn’t certain. They could still be enemies, and he wasn’t going to take any chances with this system.

Kit Legat Isha-83Z-01 was in charge of all the Canderians in the system, as befitted her ‘Kit’ rank, and it was to her that the arriving fleet’s message was relayed along with as much tactical data as sensors could pull on their ships. Almost all of them were unarmed or lightly armed, with only a handful that looked like warships and those were showing battle damage. There were varying sizes and makes of starships, all very hodge podge, and probably all running out of food, water, and air if they’d been in space 8 months already.

For Canderians that wasn’t an issue. They could live out here indefinitely via recycling measures, but Isha knew well that most races couldn’t, and even a lot of Star Force ships were not so designed. The Canderian sedas were special, and it was that special nature that told her this fleet didn’t have the luxury of being directed elsewhere…and given the crappy situation the entire Rim Region was in, no one else would probably help them. The question was, could Canderous?

Isha’s first order was to send a courier to Clan Joanna, making them aware of the situation and ultimately leaving their fate in trailblazer Megan’s hands…but right now these people, whatever they were, were here and her problem. And if they were also running out of fuel they’d be stuck here indefinitely. Star Force didn’t just turn a blind eye and let people starve to death, but there were limits to what Canderous could do and if others became aware of their location and came running here for help…

If they brought bad guys to bash that’d be one thing, but sucking off their supplies was just not fair. That said, the universe had a tendency to not be fair, hence she looked at this as another challenge, immediately sending out new construction orders for additional bioharvest structures located in the most efficient places to build…which she guessed would be some of the hollowed out asteroids. Even if the sedas could provide food to this fleet, sooner or later more would be needed and it was her job to think ahead, so she put in the construction order, reluctantly redirecting resources away from current projects, and got teams established and in planning phase before she even bothered replying to the Bwetti, asking for specifics as to their situation, ship status, and intentions.

The answer she belatedly got back was grim, as expected. They’d barely made it here and some of their ships hadn’t, to which she immediately dispatched a cargo convoy with warship escort to retrace the Bwetti’s path here and find the ships that had dropped off. If there were any survivors they were to be top priority for recovery. If not, there was no need to waste valuable resources and they were ordered to salvage the ships and tow them back here, either to give to the Bwetti or to recycle for themselves.

In the explanation of how they’d come to be here, the Bwetti had cited several other races that had fallen to the Hasgoul and the rumor in the region of Star Force. They were coming in from afar to bring order to the chaos and the locations of all known Star Force systems were being spread around from race to race, explaining how they’d known that Canderous was here. Probably a passing ship had noticed them and then rumor did the rest, meaning that there could be other refugees heading this way asking for help.

And that’s exactly what the Bwetti were asking for. Help. They didn’t care in what form. Even offering to serve as slave labor if Star Force would take them in. They were desperate and on the verge of being wiped out due to malnutrition, meaning Isha needed to act now before any more of them died within sight of rescue.

What their biology required was the subject of further transmissions as medical teams were assembled along with cargo ships and boarding parties…in full armor. This was an entirely unknown race, and as Star Force had the previous experience with the Kiritas to pull from, starving people would act irrationally, especially in sight of food. Her troops could maintain order, and if a stun blast killed one of them there would be medical personnel on sight to hopefully revive them…but at this point everything was up in the air given their unknown biology.

This was an entirely different type of war, but Canderous was a civilization of warriors from top to bottom and they were going to fight it just as passionately. The enemy was time, logistics, and the cruelty of the galaxy…and Isha would be damned if they didn’t save every last one of them physically possible. Her real worry was that there were too many of them, or that there would be more coming, and that Canderous would have to say no to some of them. To tell them they’d have to die within reach of help because there wasn’t enough to go around.

Which was why she immediately put the construction crews to work building the infrastructure to increase their supplies, for that was a message she did not intend to send to anyone…ever.

10

July 19, 3466

Interstellar Space (Rim Region)

Lizard jumpship

Thrawn walked through the corridors of the anonymous jumpship upon which he rode. It traveled in a fleet of 382 carrying cargo and warships, but mostly the former. The leader of the Star Force-loyal Li’vorkrachnika had left their holdings in the occupation zone in the hands of others a long time ago, traveling out to the chaotic warfront that was left in the shadow of The Nexus as it retreated. It had been publicized as a handover, but he knew otherwise. They could not hold their territory so they were abandoning parts of it. Fortunately for the races out here, the trailblazers were eager to dive into a challenge beyond their current capacity and fight to save and annex them into their empire.

Paul had done the same with him, refusing to give up on what seemed to be an impossible task. He’d had to trick him into questioning his own loyalty to the templars, and in doing so proved his guile and his worthiness to lead. If not, Thrawn would have been dead at his own hand long ago, so he took it on faith that the trailblazers could handle this, even if he could not see how they were going to do it.

And that thrilled him. Facing up against an unbeatable challenge and potentially finding a way to overcome it. The size of the Rim Region was larger than everything the Li’vorkrachnika had claimed prior to coming into contact with Star Force, and that had taken them century upon century of diligent expansion…yet the trailblazers were taking on the mantle of the whole thing immediately. It was reckless, but he knew them to be anything but, and he’d had a very long discussion with Paul on the matter before he left to come out here.

Thrawn had followed much later, but was operating independently of any Star Force faction. That was the trust he had in him, as well as being a functional necessity. The geography was so massive there was no way to keep Thrawn under surveillance and use him effectively. He had to be released to do what Li’vorkrachnika had been doing for as long as he lived…expand, and that’s exactly what he was doing now.

After establishing several supply routes out from H’kar territory and bypassing the grid system and black hole jumps, Thrawn had established a base of operations within the Rim Region and had been receiving a steady flow of supplies from Krachnika and the rest of his ‘cabal’ systems…those that held the Li’vorkrachnika that had served the templars and the worlds that Star Force had never conquered. The inheritance from the others that still served their dubious masters was his now to use, but everything new being built was fashioned along different lines.

The Paladin were the future, and some day he’d take on their blue coloration as well, but Paul and his kin weren’t finished crafting them and Thrawn knew that such things did not occur quickly. Each time the templars had added a new variant there were thousands of revisions necessary until they were fully absorbed into the codex…a codex that he now knew was faulty. Faulty because the templar could not count on their loyalty and required lies to keep them bound to their cause. Thrawn now looked upon it with suspect, but also familiarity, for it was the codex that he was born into and had used to command and conquer up until he had been defeated and captured.

The codex he was using now was augmented by both himself and Paul, but he was no longer receiving updates from the Paladin and would not until they were complete. That was appropriate, for he didn’t need to be experimenting. He needed a genetic and technological codex that was predictable and seasoned, so a lot of his own experimenting he’d undone, reverting back to the base codex plus the few alterations that had proved both successful and reliable. They were upgrades to the old system and proven now in battle multiple times over, but not sufficient for the long term.

Everything he was building here and back in the cabal was temporary, massive as it was. It was temporary because the trailblazers needed his current power, but even still there were telltale Star Force influences on the architecture of every world he now colonized or refurbished, and he made a point of incorporating their symbol wherever possible. The yellow/tan coloration still held, even on the newer ship designs, with the blue reserved for the Paladin as a measure of respect.

Thrawn had no command over the transitional Paladin. They were fully integrated into the 10 Clans of Paul’s trailblazer squadmates and carrying out orders directed by them. Thrawn’s Li’vorkrachnika, still going by that name until they earned the title of Paladin, answered directly to the masterminds that commanded them, and they all answered to him. There were over a thousand now and assigned to much smaller tasks than previously would have been considered prudent, but their guidance was necessary to make sure the minions did as they were supposed to and did not bring shame to their name by violating Paul’s protocols.

That meant every world had a mastermind or would, save for limited installations. The system Thrawn’s convoy was headed to was the third expansion in the Rim Region, or rather the third sector expansion. Already there were two with limited core worlds established and guarded, and Thrawn had and always would be traveling to the startups while leaving others to handle the controlled growth of the others. Where there was the most need is where he went, as well as requiring his subservient masterminds to gain experience beyond their mere genetic memory. It was useful, but not enough to make a complete war leader, and he had to make do with what he had available…which meant an overly inexperienced group of masterminds.

Those captured were still proving their loyalty until the trailblazers cleared them. There was no direct contact, but they were monitoring their thoughts from behind walls to insure that any change of allegiance was legitimate. So far they hadn’t made the necessary transition, but there were a few that were noted as becoming close. Thrawn would use them if and when they were cleared, but he was not counting on their inclusion. He had to grow a new leadership class and get them experience without compromising his duty…yet another challenge that he was not reluctant to accept.

One of the changes that had been permitted to his technology codex was the upgrade of his gravity drives, making his Li’vorkrachnika ships faster than anything the templar had, which was a necessity given the distances involved out here. One sector to another was over 200 lightyears in distance, and within each a seed was planted that would grow with time. Right now the two previous seeds were already engaged in small battles within their claimed patrol zones running off or destroying pirates and scouts from greedy neighbors, but larger combat was looming as Thrawn ran over the map his own scouts were continuously updating.

There were a multitude of threats in his assigned sectors, some of which he’d been told not to engage, leaving them to the Clans or others. He was to pick off the weaker targets as he grew his population and resource base, for if he encountered too much attrition he’d never grow as large as necessary to begin to make a significant impact out here.

Walking through the ship corridors he passed slight indentations in the walls, ceiling, and floor that held the Star Force symbol cleverly hidden within familiar architecture that had a few improvements added. He’d been onboard a Paladin jumpship before and it was nothing like this model, with too many changes for him to rely upon. Thrawn could adapt to whatever was given to him, but how his minions would was a question mark and they thrived in environments that had been ironed out so thoroughly where every action was patterned and remembered. This allowed them to adapt to exterior circumstances while holding to their codex.

Alter the codex and you risked destabilizing the foundation on which the Li’vorkrachnika were built.

He trusted Paul to do it in a fast and comprehensive manner, whereas if Thrawn had continued to do so here he’d have to take small, cautious steps…and right now he did not want to be cautious. He had to be bold and dive into the unknown in order to hold to his mandate, and one did not do that with an uncertain codex.

But that hadn’t stopped him from keeping and continuing to make some changes, one of which was quite recent. In sector 1 they had come across and cleared a conquered planet of those that had obliterated the previous population. Upon analyzing the technology left behind they’d discovered a useful alloy previously unknown and had begun integrating it into their codex. Star Force probably already knew about the material, but the awesome power of their technology was reserved for the Paladin. Thrawn was using his own plus some necessary enhancements, and so long as they were tasked with the widespread but small threats out here they would be more than adequate to the task.

Slightly different, yet altogether familiar. That’s how his new ships felt. They had greater capacity but not so much so that he didn’t know their strengths and weaknesses by feel. They were an extension of himself, as were all the minions onboard, and he could feel the harmony of purpose amongst them. The upgrades made hadn’t unsettled them. They’d adapted, as Li’vorkrachnika always did, and now they were stronger, ship by ship, than ever before.

When Thrawn eventually reached a control room separate from the bridge several librarians passed him updated reports but the rest of his personal staff kept quiet and to their tasks while waiting for additional orders as he went to the map again, bringing up the excessive amount of information that they’d been collecting. He still hadn’t assimilated it all yet, so during this trip and others he spent a great deal of time simply staring at the geography of the numerous new regions out here as his mind spiraled off on numerous tangents that the minions around him couldn’t even guess at.

When the fleet arrived at their destination they moved into orbit around an empty, nearly barren wasteland of breathable air and sparse vegetation. There was little water on the planet, but that was easy enough to overcome with technology. There were other resources here and it was a strategic point that Paul had directed him to, though he let Thrawn make the final decision for himself and he’d conquered with the selection. There were no major threats nearby, nor any trade routes of significance. It was a little unnoticed corner of the greater Dubrai Region that Clan Cookie was tasked with, but an area they would not be able to exert any influence in for centuries as greater priorities would always consume their attention.

Upon settling into a stable orbit, the jumpships released their warships and colonizing ships…the latter being an upgrade that took cruiser hulls and turned them into mobile factories patterned after Star Force’s MCVs. Cruisers had always had this capacity in limited amounts, able to spawn entire new colonies just by landing on a planet and dosed with an abundance of time, but these new ships increased the growth rate considerably. They held no weapons, so they couldn’t operate independently, but given the multitude of threats out here and his newfound reluctance to gamble the lives of his people, he wasn’t colonizing planets with single ships, or even pairs. Every expansion was going to be in force in order to protect it and to hasten the development.

So to that end, part of the cruisers stayed in orbit for defensive purposes while the rest split up and spread out across the system pulling a more detailed survey than the scout he’d sent previously. The colony cruisers headed down to the surface and landed in various places, spilling out workers and equipment that immediately took to building mining facilities and setting up prefab structures…another addition Thrawn had picked up from Star Force. Normally the Li’vorkrachnika just built new technology on site, for their skillset was that impressive, but the specific collapsible structures that gave them workshops and small hatcheries immediately upon arrival were an improvement…on planets that weren’t contested. Thrawn wouldn’t be colonizing in that aggressive fashion any more save for special occasions. Paul needed him to grow, and that meant picking systems where there would be no distractions from building.

During the flow of transports to and from the cargo jumpships Thrawn transferred down to the surface and took up command there in one of the grounded colony ships, moving about without informing others so that no one could track him unless he wished it. His authority always derived from his body, for he was his rank and his genetic marker was all the leverage he would ever need. The minions responded to him on sight, so there was never any bickering over assignments that other races stupidly had. Every Li’vorkrachnika here was devoted to their purpose, and had been born into a form to maximize their potential. It gave them an advantage over the Humans and others, who only had one form, though the trailblazers had gone to great efforts to diversify through other means.

With the Li’vorkrachnika there was no question as to who did what, and when he arrived on the surface he simply walked into the ship and was treated as if he was supposed to be there. Minimal surprise was the only reaction he ever received, and it never lasted for more than a second. He was allowed to move freely without question or adulation, observing the status of the planet and any difficulties involved with its conquest, but eventually he returned to his study of the region as he dispatched several of the jumpships to scout the surrounding systems and received back updates that confirmed the prediction that Paul had made.

Thrawn was on his own out here, mostly, but there was shipping moving through a trade route 6 jumps away belonging to a larger power. Not one so large that it was on the ‘don’t touch’ list, but one that he couldn’t contend with just yet and one whose intent hadn’t been determined. Too little information was available, and while they might turn out to be a neutral or ally, he never assumed as much. Everyone was a threat until proven otherwise, and given that the resources coming in from the cabal worlds were going to sector 1, he had to build everything in 3 locally…which meant not picking any fights just yet as he set up shop.

Occasionally Thrawn would go outside and sniff the air. It was hard and bitter, but it was raw and free. There was no safety net here. No Star Force fleet waiting to be called upon for support. It was conquer or be destroyed, and that was a very familiar mindset for him and the rest of the Li’vorkrachnika. They’d been told their entire lives that if they didn’t expand they’d be consumed by others and that every race they took down was a threat eliminated.

It had been a templar lie, and for his part in the conquests of those worlds that did not deserve it he was regretful, but there was no point in dwelling on a past that could not be changed. Paul had decided he was worthy of saving and converting, and with that endorsement he’d never doubted his cause. He’d been misdirected by the templars, a tool inappropriately used, but the trailblazers would not make that mistake. They’d set him loose against real threats, and Paul had already forged him into a shield for those that needed protecting. It gave truth to the lie that the templars had bred into them, and ironically had prepared them for this moment…for they were more outmatched here than ever before, and it was going to take a lot of effort and fortuitous use of opportunities just to survive out here.

They could always get lucky and go unnoticed, but Thrawn knew better. Warfare on a grand scale was on the horizon, and once the races in this region realized how powerful the Li’vorkrachnika were they’d move against them, just as they had in the past, and Star Force wasn’t going to be here to protect them. They’d have to fight with courage and guile in order to just survive, and then to grow further and fulfill their mandate. Paul had told him even if they succeeded a lot of people out here were going to die, that no matter how well they all fought there were simply too many enemies, too much territory, and too little time to save them all. Thrawn was to save those he could, and Paul would do the same, but there was no chance for a full victory, for they were outmatched by the geography alone.

But to not commit would mean far more would be killed, thus they’d taken it upon themselves to challenge fate, and for the first time since he’d been grown he felt himself fulfilling his true purpose. The fight had barely begun, but as he tasted the air of this planet he felt the righteousness of the mission, and it was one he had no problem dying to achieve if necessary.

For without a purpose, what was the point in living?

Paul had posed that question to him long ago, never fully answering it, but wanting him to think upon it and discover the answer for himself…and he had. Without a purpose one was lost, but a lost one could refind their path, so death wasn’t the inevitable outcome, but one did not truly live unless they were bound to a purpose, as he was now. It had been a long journey to this point, but he was here now, as were the rest of the Li’vorkrachnika that had been abandoned to die while the templars fled coreward…and they had their purpose as well, he could feel it in them. They could feel the danger and reveled in it, for it was why they existed.

They were fighters, and fighters needed a quest to fulfill. Training alone was not enough. Thrawn and the others need to accomplish something, not prep indefinitely. It was a skill the Archons had mastered but they had not, and it was one that Thrawn truly didn’t want to obtain. He’d rather be the weapon always in use until the day he died.

And with the size of the Rim Region and the threats opposing them, it looked like he was going to get his wish.

www.aerkijyr.com

[T1]Contritions are feelings of guilt. Did you mean consequences?

[T2]Cyborgs would more likely be satisfied I think. Humans more content…just a thought.

[T3]I think this might be assumed.

[T4]Conquer?

Crusade

1

November 28, 3474

Tarric 1 System (H’kar outer region)

Middle Zone

The star system was an empty one, not a planet nor asteroid field in orbit around the single golden star at its center. That had been intentional when The Nexus had created the nearby Grid Point Annsa, for they wanted it located off an uncontested system to be used as a waypoint and not become a target or siege station in and of itself. Now that this system belonged to Star Force that was changing, with several seda situated around an Imperator-class station that was only partially constructed as they watched the traffic come and go from the star to the not so far off grid point, standing by to intercept any threats before they got to it, or if they were coming out from it.

A short comm signal was all that was needed to transmit from one to another, and it would travel faster than any of the ships due to the low gravity of the construct at the other end of the jumplane, so if someone ran from the forces at Annsa they could call ahead and the defense fleet in Tarric 1 could be standing by to attempt an intercept…or to warn Annsa if an invasion fleet arrived.

There were four seda here, two of which were 13 miles in diameter, one at 9 miles, and another at 3. The Imperator was going to dwarf them all, though it wasn’t spherical. Rather it was star shaped, a six pointed work of sheer terror that would stretch 74 miles from tip to tip when completed. There were seda back in the ADZ that were larger, but this thing was designed to be star forge-sized, yet it wasn’t going to be used for mining or habitation. It had but one purpose and one purpose only.

It was a pure battlestation…and on each of those six points was a Bra’hem beam cannon fueled by an independent Nash’ti reactor.

Then throw in all the other medium and short range weaponry powered by other reactors and the most advanced shield set Star Force had, and you ended up with a tiny piece of infrastructure that no one wanted to mess with. It couldn’t guard an entire star system, but it could provide a safe haven to run to if you were in it, and that was incredibly valuable given the realities of interstellar travel. Fights happened insystem, and the idea of calling reinforcements in before you got annihilated was idiotic. Lag time of signal plus travel time meant that anything short of a full blown invasion was going to be over with before you could get help, so all defenses had to be structured around what you had insystem.

It was the reason why so many planets had fallen to the lizards. Simply scout ahead, find out what was there, then bring in enough ships and troops to take it. Unless you hid away extra defenses the attacker was always going to have an advantage, and against single system civilizations…well, there were reasons to have more than one system, and the basic purpose of defense in that case was to design your infrastructure to buy you time so you could call for help and still be alive by the time it eventually arrived.

Help here would come from Annsa and it was right next door, but if you were being pursued by a faster ship insystem you wouldn’t even have time to get it. The best hope you’d have would be to evade long enough to get to a safe spot somewhere in orbit of the star…and the imperator was definitely that safe spot, with extra long range shield generators build into it so that it could reach out and protect incoming ships and freeze others with dampener versions. Get to the imperator and you’d probably be safe, and while Star Force didn’t have more than 20 built to date across their entire empire, their theoretical reputation was already spreading rapidly.

Theoretical because no one had been stupid enough to attack one, but Star Force had done some visible weapons tests and made those records public…just to discourage the stupid.

This Imperator was partially operational with one of the star points built and capable of inflicting massive damage at insane range, but the station itself, even when fully constructed, would be operated by less than 1000 crewers. It could hold more than that, but it’d been built to be all teeth and no spa, somewhere you wouldn’t really like to be stationed during peacetime, but the place everyone would want to be in the middle of a battle.

The surrounding sedas were a much better place to live and would allow the Imperator crew rotational options as well as adding their own impressive array of weaponry to any engagement as they sat within Bra’hem range but some 10,000 kilometers away, for if there was to be a fight the Imperator would need clear firing lines around it to inflict maximum damage.

So it was being built here from parts shipped in by regular convoys in order to become the doorstop to Annsa that would function as watchdog and oasis for passing ships in distress. Capable of more than defending itself and alerting the grid point should trouble be headed its way.

That meant it constantly monitored jump activity around the star, so when the first Nexus ships began to arrive it took note immediately.

Four Gfatt warships led the way, followed by a fleet of huge cargo jumpships that dropped into a lower stellar orbit and began to circle away from the jumppoint…that soon saw a planet arrive out of a slow braking maneuver.

Or rather it had the mass of a planet. In truth it was two giant discs connected by a thick stem and thousands of ‘small’ ships attached to it like ticks, all of which were themselves massive jumpships. Their combined propulsive power had slowly towed the construct across Nexus space and then the Rim Region, finally arriving here with the cargo jumpships immediately scrambling to attend to it.

They got in close and extended huge umbilicals over to the ‘ticks’ and began to refuel them. They’d been stripped down to essentially engines and shield generators, with then more engines being added. It was how The Nexus had imagined transporting one of the huge constructs and was far less elegant than what Star Force had in mind, but per the agreement they wouldn’t be moving the Meintre’s pair here. The Nexus had taken this beast off of Grid Point Polla, stranding a smaller member known as the Uque temporarily.

Or rather relegating them to traditional grav drive travel to and from their region, which was one of the less unstable ones within decent range of Star Force territory. That said, even with all the jumpships attached to the construct, it had so much mass that their collective engine power could only manage slow jump speeds. They’d been enroute for some 28 years thus far, with constant supply convoys running back and forth at much greater speeds in order to keep the constructs’ ticks fully fueled and constantly moving. Those convoys had been coming through Annsa for several years now to take the shortcut to the construct, but they’d never stuck around long enough to draw attention.

The Gfatt warships were here to escort the convoys just in case they did, though not the construct, for it had so much firepower of its own that escort wasn’t necessary. But pluck the convoys away and the construct would quickly run out of fuel, becoming stranded in whatever system it was in at the time and easy to siege out, for the giant station didn’t have much in the way of food production internally. It relied on warehouses and the abundant trade occurring at the grid points to function, meaning that right now it was truly a fish out of water.

But that fish gradually moved over to a nonexistent jumpline, and once all the refueling had taken place it made the slowest jump the crew onboard the Imperator had ever seen, lazily creeping out of the system and taking more than a day to do it. Ships came in from Annsa and docked with it during its micro/microjump, transferring over Star Force-allied crew that would be replacing The Nexus handlers once they got it into position.

It wasn’t going to the other construct, but rather some 1.5 million kilometers away. As far as interstellar navigation was concerned that was basically the same spot, but it would give the two constructs plenty of breathing room and allow traffic from one not to influence the other, and both were far enough away from the star that its gravity didn’t tug them too much out of alignment. Hitting a target as ‘small’ as one of the giant 12,000 mile wide discs require a precise shot, then some additional steering as able to correct minor drift problems since you couldn’t actually see the target you were shooting for. You knew its supposed location then had to adjust when you got close enough to sense it, either via gravity silhouette or alignment beacon, for the magnetic field itself was too local to pick up before you hit it.

But getting the construct 1.7 lightyears away from the star was a huge pain in the ass, because the jumpships moving it had no gravity to brake against. They were going to have to sip off the star’s limited gravity signature at that range and ramp up their engines for an extremely long burn just to nudge down its speed. And knowing that was going to be necessary, a huge fleet of additional fuel ships arrived the following day from Annsa and began running back out to it in escort formation, setting up for continuous transfers that was going to require a lot of precision flying to match speeds.

It was either that or slowly take the construct over the 1.7 lightyears distance in the next 2 centuries, and even then you’d have to expend a good deal of fuel to stop it on station. So in fuel costs alone the deceleration on point was going to be more than 30% of the sum total that it took The Nexus to get it here, which was a staggering amount.

The Imperator watched The Nexus supply convoys keep coming into the system, thousands upon thousands of the giant ships that would return piecemeal and head back out empty, but before the construct made it to its final resting point another four ship Gfatt escort arrived at the star ahead of another fuel convoy, but they didn’t make a microjump out to catch up with the construct. Rather they headed around the star to get to an outgoing jumpline as a second planet-sized mass arrived.

It was the other end of the link, and behind it came more fuel ships and a diplomatic vessel. The latter headed over to Annsa to handle the official handover of the construct being dropped off here, but this one still had a 14 year journey left to get to the location in the occupation zone where The Nexus was already setting up shop, but they wouldn’t be able to send convoys in earnest until the grid point system was linked in.

Time wasn’t on their side, so they’d been sending many the slow way to get their gifted worlds prepped, but once this construct got there and the link between it and Annsa was established, traffic and commerce was going to explode at both ends, and not just because of the Meintre relocation plan. Star Force would be on the grid, for the ADZ wasn’t that far away, and virtually every member within The Nexus was going to have access to them through the grid point system.

They did now via the H’kar, but the H’kar weren’t fully integrated into Star Force yet. They were enough for a lot of players to begin making contacts and setting up arrangements for the tidal wave of trade to come, but it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket compared to what would result when the ADZ was keyed in and its markets were open…and militarily secure from the instability plaguing many regions within The Nexus.

But that was still at least 14 years into the future, for once the second construct was refueled and made its lazy way around the star it slowly jumped out on the next leg of its journey without wasting any time here, leaving the Imperator as the dominant force in the otherwise empty system, but had it been a living beast it would have been feeling emasculated by the passing of the two true giants through its turf…though it would have been interesting to see who would win out in a fight. Big as they were, they weren’t built as battlestations and they didn’t have any weapons that could match the range or firepower of the Bra’hem…though they did have a lot more of them.

It would take another 5 months before the first construct was finally ground to a stop in its predetermined position, then the ticks turned it around to align with the far off occupation zone before The Nexus work crews began cutting away their jumpships from the frame they’d been physically attached to via umbilicals. They weren’t becoming Star Force property and The Nexus wanted them back, but the process itself was going to take a few months to complete and until the other end of the link was established this construct wasn’t going to be of much use.

But that didn’t stop the commerce from flowing. The mass of stations around the existing construct at Annsa began moving into the gap between them, setting up for what the future would hold and positioning themselves to make the most of the two construct grid point…something that the rest of the Rim Region did not have aside from Mankla. One construct was a huge magnet for commerce, pun intended, but two at a grid point rocketed the location into higher status that would be attracting investors here even before Grid Point Stargate was established.

While Annsa was now Star Force property, they were still on the grid point network and that made them part of the larger civilization whether officially recognized or not, and a great many people that lived in The Nexus or within its domain didn’t care about such things. They went where opportunity was and now Annsa was the newest hot spot on the map. No alterations in the grid point system had been made in centuries, and even though this was a moved set rather than a newly constructed pair, it was progress…something badly needed in The Nexus given all the setbacks it was having and markets lost to the traders when planets fell.

It didn’t take long for news of the construct arriving to work its way out through the network and soon the number of magjump flights coming in quadrupled. Part of that was due to ships being repurposed from the now defunct Uque until the Meintre pair were moved there, but in truth those ships had already been repurposed elsewhere in the grid. The surge in flights here was due to the greater demand, and within the space of 3 years Annsa was the most traffic heavy grid point after Mankla…which also saw a boost because it was on the line that ran from The Nexus to Annsa.

And as usual Star Force didn’t allow a letdown with any of the transfers. The grid points continued to operate at peak efficiency and word of that spread too, along with some of the minor improvements being made in the local economies. After all, Star Force began as a corporation, not a nation, and its roots in business philosophy ran far deeper than those of The Nexus even if the mammoth civilization had been around a lot longer and had ample experience to draw from.

But there was just something about the way Star Force handled business that drew opportunists to them…not to mention that they kept all of their holdings extremely secure, and that was a vast improvement over The Nexus. Some people in the Rim Region complained about Star Force not sending enough of their existing fleet in to help secure the new members, but that way of thinking was exactly how The Nexus got into trouble. They’d overextended, and Star Force never did. When they took territory they held it, which was why a lot of the resources needed to secure the Rim Region were going to have to be built there, for Star Force had a huge occupation zone of captured and mostly emptied systems to guard against squatters, the still hostile lizards, the advanced races congregating at the Uriti preserve, and any others that felt like poking around.

That firm grip on security attracted investors like a moth to a flame, and Davis was not one to waste opportunity. He had a Duke assigned to every grid point that Star Force owned and they were following the playbook that he’d written out long before the tidal rush of commerce began, so as people from all across The Nexus began sniffing around they found an even more professional custodian of the grid points than usual.

And while there wasn’t a lot of traffic coming into H’kar territory itself, for most of it stayed in the grid point network as that was where the primary markets were, there was still a huge amount of cargo and other traffic interfacing with the H’kar as a result of Annsa’s increase in notoriety…and they all got the chance to fly by the Imperator station on their way through. A not so small reminder of the teeth that Star Force had in its own right, and that they were not just replacements coming in to take over possession of The Nexus’s toys.

They were a large civilization of their own, and though it wasn’t immediately apparent, people began to realize that technologically speaking they were on par with the major races in The Nexus, if not more so in some cases. Especially when it came to military hardware.

The only problem was, they wouldn’t sell any of it. But still, when times became turbulent and uncertain, you fled to those you felt were the most powerful, and that too would begin to draw people towards the Rim Region and down into the expanded ADZ once Grid Point Stargate became operational and Star Force’s reputation slowly spread by word of mouth.

2

May 3, 3476

Unknown System (Skarron territory)

Middle Zone

Captain Uzzedi sat in his command chair onboard his Ma’kri scout ship watching the fireworks in the system from a position of safety. They were well away from stellar orbit and the five inhabited planets that were currently engaged in the most massive brawl he’d ever seen…and he’d been at Krachnika when it ultimately fell. There were far more ships here, on both sides, and though it was hard to tell he thought the lizards were winning.

Almost all his data was time lagged, but he’d dropped sensor buoys off around the system as they’d lazily trolled around in enhanced shadow mode. Ever since acquiring the Trinx into Star Force the Ma’kri had been upgraded with a crude overlay to their impressive signal sucking technology, so now they had the ability to be immune to sensors and give off a faint false signal enough to mimic starlight. It was less effective when backdropped by a planet or star, but they would no longer appear as an obvious black silhouette and that gave the Captain a lot of leeway with regards to where he could go within the system and still remain unnoticed.

And unnoticed was the key, for they were fast enough to go where they pleased and neither the lizards nor the Skarrons could catch them. That said, they were so far away from Star Force territory that they didn’t want to risk a mishap. They were alone out here, for while there were other scout ships sniffing around the Skarron/lizard war zone they were all on different missions and not coordinating. Uzzedi was basing out of an outpost in Voku territory and he knew other ships were as well, but where they went to he didn’t know. He’d been given a section of territory to scout and orders to follow any large lizard or Skarron movements.

So when he’d stumbled upon the mother of all lizard fleets transitioning through a star system like a long line of ants he’d followed it…straight to a fortress world on the other side of the regional border within the Skarron Empire. That meant the reported internal discord between the Skarron factions should no longer be in play and the full might of their military would be coming down on the lizards in short, or perhaps long, order but right now it seemed the lizards either didn’t care or didn’t realize that, and the Human Axius captain didn’t buy the latter. The lizards typically operated off of good intelligence or probed into new areas with single ships. Launching a mindboggling assault such as this was not something they would recklessly do.

Which meant they were no longer concerned about Star Force crossing the border and doing battle with them, either because they calculated that they wouldn’t or because they’d rebuilt to such a level that they thought they could take on both empires simultaneously. Uzzedi figured it was the former, for if Star Force wanted to cross that line there was nothing aside from bodies to throw at them that would slow them down. Not with the tech advantage they now had.

But give credit to the lizards for knowing how to take advantage of a situation, for Star Force had made it pretty clear that they were going to hold The Line and focus their attention on the new Rim Region, so why not go after the Skarrons?

Conventional wisdom held that the Skarrons were too widespread to take down, and that if they wanted to they could pull so many reserves from far flung regions that they could annihilate just about anyone if sufficiently motivated enough to do so…and given the carnage occurring before him, Uzzedi was beginning to wonder if the lizards hadn’t just bitten off more than they could chew. Even if they took this system, it wasn’t the regional capitol and there were a lot of other fortress systems like this left in this subsection of the Skarron Empire. Even Star Force only had very basic maps of the entire thing, to which the Ma’kri scout fleet was trying to expand upon and confirm from other sources what it could.

The lizards had already taken one semi-rebellious region away from the Skarrons who had not sent reinforcements to defend it, and even that effort had cost them an insane number of ships and years. They hadn’t had time to thoroughly fortify it, but for whatever reason they were pushing again and in numbers that Uzzedi had never seen nor even heard reported used. He’d heard the rumors that the lizards had let their capitol fall to Star Force despite the huge defense fleet that he and the other ship captains had to fight through, but now he didn’t doubt the truth of it.

This was the true might of the lizards beginning to show, and this was only an assault against a single high value system. What they’d use overall, and what the Skarrons would send to counter them, was a brain teaser that Uzzedi could not fathom. At this point it seemed like both had no limit to available forces, so the only thing he could do was watch and take notes, for the strength level of both sides was unable to be determined given how large their empires were and the limited number of cloaked scouts Star Force had to poke around with.

But with the surveillance buoys and his Ma’kri on station, he was going to get a lot of data here over the coming months to report back on, for this battle for the system wasn’t going to end anytime soon. He’d have to leave before it was over, but he speculated that it would take no less than a year to settle the naval conflict alone…and that was just with the ships insystem. If both sides got reinforcements though, it could peter out into a decade long fight.

So Uzzedi just sat and watched, trying to learn as much about both fleets as they could, though the lizards didn’t appear to be showing any new technologies now that Star Force had cut off their Trinx lifeline. The Skarrons, on the other hand…

Cal-com stood in the Hall of Majesty on Nergthen, his right hand on his chin as he studied the updating reports on the Skarron front. Since returning from the upper side of the galaxy he’d been given more duties by the Elders, some that pertained to their holdings in and on the other side of Star Force territory, but most were directed elsewhere…with one bold imperative to take another chunk out of Skarron territory and then to start establishing a firm defensive line at a string of system coordinates provided to him.

That made his mission more straightforward than usual, and the Voku had been fighting the Skarrons for millennia in some form or another, but the taking of additional territory in such a quick manner as prescribed meant he was going to have to pull in fleets of conglomerates from across this half of Voku territory…but coupled with the fortification order after the conquests were complete told the Dafchor something the Elder hadn’t said specifically. There was a moment of opportunity upon them, followed by what would be a storm of reprisals, and he thought he now knew the source of both of those things.

The lizard empire was on the move again, and no longer in subtle manners. They’d aggressively taken a Skarron region that the Consortium had arrogantly chosen not to reinforce. Even still the lizards had barely been able to take it after a long, grueling campaign…but Cal-com now suspected even that had been a ruse to hide their true strength, now supplemented by the resources they’d gained from their new territorial additions, for they were assaulting no less than 38 major Skarron systems with invasion fleets that dwarfed those used previously.

Even the Voku’s previous estimates of current lizard fleet strength hadn’t accounted for half the vessels appearing in systems that the Voku were monitoring, let alone how many others that they didn’t have eyes on. His analysts had not even speculated that they had this many ships in total spread across their entire empire, yet once again the lizards were appearing in droves and perplexing their supposedly superior enemies that it appeared they had no chance to defeat.

But the Elder obviously thought there was a threat here. Pushing further into Skarron territory made sense given the distraction of the lizard invasion, even if it wasn’t anywhere near their current border. Any reinforcements coming in would go there, not to the Voku front, but if he guessed as to the Elder’s predictions based on the orders given to him, this lizard push was going to wake up the Consortium to the threat they posed and elicit a major backlash…one that would also be coming the Voku’s way while they were in the neighborhood.

And something that large would have to be on the level of a Crusade. Three were known to have occurred, as far as Voku records went, over the long history of the Skarrons. Their individual kingdoms and other internal divisions had never kept them from aiding their neighbors, for they fought even harder against outsiders than they did against themselves. Bickering and nontraditional forms of warfare were common knowledge enough for the Voku to pick up on it in their intelligence gathering, but the Skarrons didn’t wage full war on one another. And when an outsider threatened one of them the bickering stopped immediately, meaning they were at their strongest when under attack and therefore unified.

Whatever the disagreement in the Consortium had been to bring them to stand by and do nothing as one of their Regions fell must have been massive, but now that another two Regions were under assault it only seemed natural to assume they’d be receiving support from bordering ones to push back the lizard incursion.

But that didn’t hold to what Cal-com was sensing. Both in terms of surprising lizard strength and the orders given to him. The Voku were stronger than both the lizards and the Skarrons across the board save for in one category…and that was numbers. The only real threat to them would be a massive push, the likes of which the Skarrons had never bothered to muster against the Voku. They managed their border economically, often losing systems that in the greater context of their communal empire were inconsequential, and the Voku had never pressed hard to take a great number of them back.

And then the Elder had ordered him to begin expanding into Skarron territory even as he fought in the Star Force war. He hadn’t understood that at the time other than to add more territory to the Voku in order to strengthen them, but now he thought it was part of a greater plan to bolster them long term against what was coming. Taking an even larger chunk of Skarron territory now was a no-brainer if you knew their full might was coming your way on a delay. No point in not sweeping up what you could now then putting down border fortifications and fighting a holding action that was going to happen one way or another.

This had to be the Fourth Crusade coming. It had to be. And if it was, the Voku were going to be…

Cal-com’s train of thought cut off as he stared at the starmaps. The idea was that when a Crusade happened the Skarrons didn’t just deal with one threat, they dealt with all threats in the greater region while they had their full might massed. That’s why they’d be coming after the Voku during or after they dealt with the lizards. But would Star Force also come under attack? They’d fought the Skarrons previously when they pushed into their borders, but would the Skarrons try to take them down as well?

He’d heard that during a Crusade the Skarron ego was at its highest, so they might just try. Star Force was weaker than the Voku size wise, but they’d managed to surpass them in terms of technology and their psionics. They could easily defeat a Skarron attack, even a large scale one, but a Crusade was another matter entirely. Every Region within their empire would send almost all the forces it had save for what it felt necessary to hold onto the key systems. It had been said they often lost lesser ones when the local defense forces were overwhelmed by opportunists, but that didn’t matter. Once the Crusade was over the forces would return and they could take back those systems or just shrug off the losses. A Crusade being called for meant there was something of unbelievable importance that trumped all else, and once launched they wouldn’t be bashful in carrying it out.

And that meant you’d be facing upwards of 90% of all Skarron ships, walkers, and troops from across their entire empire, all focused into a single war zone, and the Voku were close enough to the lizards in some areas that there was no doubt if a Crusade did occur they’d be in their targets as well.

But why now? It wouldn’t take a Crusade to push the lizards back. The backing of two or three other regions sending 20% of their fleets would be enough, especially with some of the recent tech upgrades they’d made. The lizards no longer had a range advantage on them, and that was what had cost the Skarrons dearly in the fall of Region 34. Now their opposition had the ability to poke at their invokers from afar and that was hurting the lizards badly, but apparently they’d upgraded their assault pillars to compensate.

How many of the new versions did they have? And could they rework the originals? And to the point, where were the lizards getting so many ships?

Did the Skarrons know? Did the Elders know? Cal-com had been ordered to take actions that hinted at the most massive war in Voku history being on the horizon, but was this really happening? Was the Fourth Crusade mounting even now?

It had to be, for it was the only thing that made sense…and if his instincts were correct, the lizards had not been so beaten by Star Force as they appeared to be. They must have relocated far more materiel than calculated, or come up with some new manufacturing method to speed up the development of infrastructure that had taken them thousands of years previously to develop. Without their shipyard rings they should not have been able to field this kind of fleet…so where did it come from?

Cal-com didn’t have an answer to that and probably wouldn’t for a long while. What he did have was a mission to carry out, and right now that meant mounting a massive campaign to attack the Skarron Empire and carve out what would be, in hindsight, the best defensible border possible while giving the Voku some prime territory to digest.

Yes, this was definitely the prelude to a massive war coming. It wouldn’t be here quickly, but it was heading their way eventually. And if it was a full Crusade there was only one reason to be mounting it.

The Skarrons had finally reasoned that the only way to defeat the lizards was to take them out completely. Not just the shipyards that were producing this fleet, wherever they were, but the rate which the lizards had built and expanded after Star Force had cut out the heart of their empire was a telltale sign of the true threat. If left unchecked they could do it again even if decimated in a massive backlash by the Skarrons.

The only way to insure they were dealt with permanently was to wipe out every single one that lived.

And that would require a Crusade.

During which the Skarrons would deal with other nearby threats, meaning they’d come after the Voku and perhaps even Star Force. And Paul’s people were busy fighting a massive war rimward, one in which they were deeply outnumbered. An attack by the Skarrons would hurt them badly, despite the numbers of reserve units that Cal-com knew Paul kept in the ADZ that would never be sent beyond it. He never left his own core worlds undefended, but the might of a crusade wasn’t something one could just shrug off. Not even Star Force.

He had to warn him, but he couldn’t do it in person. There was too much to organize here and an unspecified amount of time before the hammer fell, meaning he couldn’t waste a day of it else he betray his duty to the Elders. A message would have to suffice, but he’d send it via a personal courier he could trust to deliver it into Paul’s hand. Cal-com knew other Archons and their Monarch counterparts were wise, but Paul was the only one he personally trusted to make sure things got done, and as such he wasn’t going to send the message to him via their own comm system. This was too important, plus Paul was in a war zone and the message might not reach him in time.

He didn’t think the Crusade would be here soon, but preparing for such a thing isn’t someone one did on short notice…and Star Force was already overextended, so however Paul would alter their plans to compensate he needed to let him know as soon as possible.

“Clear the room,” he told his staff, who looked a bit surprised but obeyed without complaint.

When they were gone he sealed the small command center and began to record a message on a secure system. He needed Paul to know about the Elders’ orders, but that wasn’t something he could share with others, even his fellow Voku, unless so needed to carry them out. Paul was another matter and favored by the Elders anyway, plus they’d never reprimanded him for confiding in the Human, and the Elders had access to scan his mind at any time they wished, for one was often discretely on this world for him to talk to if needed, though he rarely sought them out if not summoned.

So Cal-com had decided long ago to continue confiding some things in Paul until he was told not to, but that meant this message had to go directly to his hand and no other Voku or Star Force. He had a few couriers he could trust not to read it, but he went to an additional length to encode it with a pass phrase only Paul would know based on the time they’d spent together.

Cal-com laid out every possible bit of information he thought Paul would need, wished him luck in all his upcoming war campaigns, then locked the message into a datachip and purged the recorder before calling for a courier and sending him off to find the Archon wherever he was in the next galactic arm.

3

June 29, 3477

DK System (Ninja Monkey territory)

Sliced Banana

Morgan’s jaw dropped as the message from Paul played out explaining the Voku’s warning about both the lizards unexpected strength and the Skarron crusade that may be forming to oppose them…and anyone else in the way.

“Fuckers,” she muttered as Paul’s hologram continued to talk.

“If this does head our way we can’t pull out of our responsibilities here and come back. There’s far too much at stake. We’re going to have to fortify the ADZ like the Voku are and play dead. There’s no point in picking a new fight with the Skarrons if they’re really coming after the lizards. Let them fight it out first and we’ll deal with the aftermath. Hopefully all the systems between the Voku and us won’t draw attention, and I don’t see how we can protect that region other than in a handful of spots anyway. Good news is this isn’t happening tomorrow and we’ve got time to prepare…and guess who got voted to do the preparing,” Paul said with a half-sarcastic/half-apologetic smile.

“Like hell you voted,” she said, though not displeased.

“Davis concurs. The border is yours and you’re to involve as many Clans and factions as you deem necessary, but get us a wall built that can withstand this storm before it comes down on our heads…and hope it washes away the lizards in the process.”

Paul’s image gave her a Vulcan ‘live long and prosper’ hand gesture then faded out.

Morgan couldn’t help but smile, and not just at Paul’s signoff. She’d helped plan the Rim Region expansion along with the others, but she hadn’t been one assigned/volunteered to go out there and fight all the new bad guys. She’d wanted to, but she had her own bad guys to deal with and her Clan needed her. Morgan had taught them well, but abandoning them didn’t feel right and she’d built up too much infrastructure to relocate out to the Rim Region, so she’d reluctantly had to pass on the big party.

But now it seemed an even bigger party was coming her way, and that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. For a lot of people it was puppies and kittens, but for Morgan distant danger that she had time to build and prepare for always did the trick…and it meant that the pesky Line restriction wasn’t going to be an issue anymore. Star Force wouldn’t have to destroy the lizards if the Skarrons truly were coming. That wasn’t certain, but the fact that they were fighting it out in earnest was important to know…as well as the fact that the lizards had been hiding their real strength from her.

She should have expected nothing more from the devious bastards, and the trailblazer wasn’t going to make that mistake again. They’d fed Star Force what it wanted to see and they’d bought it, playing up the ‘we’re weak’ angle when they didn’t immediately pursue them coreward. After all, if they thought the reason was their focus on the powerful core systems around and including Krachnika the last thing the lizards would want was to project an image of regained power and potentially draw Star Force to their new replacements.

Now that it was clear Star Force was holding to The Line, the lizards were going to use that power to go after the Skarrons…with Star Force not even knowing what was going on given the distances involved.

One thing was clear, though. The lizards didn’t think they could take Star Force, but they did think they could take the much larger Skarrons down. Smart of them, on the first part, but what about the second? Had they miscalculated? Was this Crusade tactic something they were unaware of from their history?

Or was it all part of the plan? Morgan didn’t think they could survive 90% of the Skarron fleet showing up here with extermination orders, but then again what was their play? They’d used the internal fiefdom conflict against the Skarrons and taken a chunk out of their empire that they would now be using to further invade…but did they really have that much strength in them? Had the Trinx upgrades really changed things that much?

And they were still pressing on with this now that their tech lifeline had been cut. They wouldn’t be getting any more easy upgrades, yet according to the Voku and their own scouts, they were aggressively pushing into more Skarron territory and essentially poking the tiger straight into both eyes.

Morgan envied their tenacity, as well as the 2s finding a way to incorporate their strengths into their Clans, but that wouldn’t work for the Ninja Monkeys. There wasn’t going to be lizards fighting lizards and Paul had been adamant about that. Morgan agreed. Fighting your mirror image was always a difficult thing to do, which meant as long as her Clan was on the lizard border they wouldn’t be incorporating any Paladin, even if all the other Clans did.

Best to keep the lizards as clear enemies rather than muddy the water with enemy and friendly versions. Besides, she didn’t need the Paladin. She had Kiritas and Bsidd, and both of them combined were more effective than lizards. Kiritas could work better and Bsidd could fight better. Her Clan was only recruiting individuals, not growing new civilizations from genetic samples…and she really liked that potential capability…but there was no lack of available volunteers for her to pull from. Most didn’t meet up to her entry standards, but there were so many people trying to become Ninja Monkeys that she wasn’t in need of additional population.

She was in need of additional experienced personnel, and that was something the Paladin were not. They were all green, but could function that way shortly after being grown. Morgan needed more than that and didn’t want to dilute the professional culture within her Clan by adding anything even remotely close to newbs in her ranks.

The 2s could spam their way to results and Morgan could be jealous of them for that, but she greatly preferred the traditional method of building up individuals over time and accumulating them. And given the length of Star Force’s history and their large population base, she now had the luxury of pulling recruits that had hundreds of years of experience already…which she would then take up to the next level via her own training methods.

And now the Ninja Monkeys were back to being on the front line. With the Rim Region expansion occurring the enemy lizards had become the JV team with regards for potential combat, but not anymore.

With Paul’s hologram gone, Morgan pulled up a starmap of her current territory on the left and one of the entire border on her right…which she was now responsible for. Ninja Monkey territory covered only a tiny patch of it, with her now owning 53 systems spread out in a flat net 280 lightyears wide and 120 tall. It was a thin defense line, but an effective one, and she had surveillance equipment and patrols throughout the adjacent systems giving her more asserted territory than she actually inhabited.

But she was going to have to do a lot better, and her Clan alone wasn’t going to be able to handle it all by themselves.

The Hradeiti were a joke that Davis was tolerating in the hopes that they could grow to the point of expanding out into lizard territory on their own, but assuming the Crusade was coming that plan was now moot and they weren’t strong enough to hold the piece of the border they now owned. They were 18 systems of weakness that Star Force was carrying, but Morgan couldn’t have them on the front lines…meaning she either had to evacuate them or move the lines forward, just like the Voku were doing.

Morgan smiled and interlaced her fingers, then inverted them and stretched her hands theatrically. She’d grown to hate the idea of The Line, imagining the lizards mocking her from just out of reach. She could go after any of them whenever she wanted, so it wasn’t the actual geography of it that bothered her, but rather the principle. Knowing that they were about to get stomped on, hopefully, alleviated most of that emotional burden while also making it apparent that the current Line wasn’t the best defensible position…and that while she had time, she might as well take the systems she wanted to defend against the Skarrons with.

Which meant a brief conquest of their own, and that was something her Ninja Monkeys had gotten very good at.

But scale was the issue. Looking at the map she needed to establish a wedge of systems around the Achkor Region, for that was the part of the line that poked into what had previously been Skarron territory. The Line that extended down to the Voku was pulled back around the Achkor bump, making it almost impossible for the Skarrons to take out the lizards and not come across Star Force.

But that bump wasn’t in the best of locations. Star Force had built what it needed where it had it, but it hadn’t carved out the region based on defense. Looking at the greater map now Morgan could see numerous must haves, including some bottlenecks in nebula dense areas. She could get her ships through some of them if they jacked up their shields enough, but she knew the Skarrons and lizards couldn’t. That would give her some flanking jumplines to use if needed, as well as other permanently blocked lines that were too dense with diffuse gasses for her ships to get through at multiple times lightspeed…and going any slower was a waste of time when you could get there by circuitous routes.

There were no black holes close by for her to seize and she didn’t want to press all the way out to the closest one, but it would probably end up being used to funnel ships into the region, meaning she needed her line far enough back from it that she could get scouting reports on what was coming rather than just having it show up on her front doorstep.

That and hundreds of other considerations worked through her mind rapidly with her tagging systems and morphing the map in a simulation mode for several hours until she got a good border. A better one would have been pressed out further, but she didn’t think they had enough time to take that many lizard worlds and get them built up to a level to defend against a massive Skarron armada. That said, she didn’t know how much time they had to work with anyway, so it was best to not get too greedy. If they had more time there were some very valuable systems further out that she’d really like to have, but she couldn’t risk it.

No, this new chunk of territory would be taxing enough to take and hold, but she’d make it work and turn it into a buffer zone. One built on battle colonies focused on producing resources and not population…and ones that could simultaneously be built expecting to become a battlefield.

Yes, yes…the more Morgan looked at and amended her map the more she liked the overall idea. The ADZ was a clogged mess of non-combat personnel that was well defended, but she needed more than that. She needed the civies in the back and out of the way so she could cleanly fight anyone that came her way. It was the same principle that she’d been building Ninja Monkey territory on, only this was the mammoth sized version…and one her Clan could never fill in time.

Or could it…

Watering down her Clan with a lot of new blood was a no go. She wasn’t going to wreck the mojo that had taken centuries to establish. That meant she could only incorporate recruits at a slow rate, giving them time to adapt and assimilate before eventually adding to their overall strength. Morgan didn’t have time for that with this. She needed a lot of people and resources now, and her Clan didn’t have them.

“Paladin would be real helpful now,” she muttered to herself, but nixed that idea straight off. The 2s didn’t have them fully worked out yet, and even if they were they’d still be facing off and potentially fighting against other lizards and that was just a road that she didn’t want to go down, in addition to the other obvious reasons. That made the Paladin as tempting as Halloween Candy, but it was candy filled with drugs that would eat away at her Clan and potentially kill it. So no, she had to keep the Ninja Monkeys what they were and build on…

Morgan snapped her fingers as an epiphany hit her.

“Damn it. You and Jason aren’t the only ones that can add a Clan. No, make that Clans,” she corrected as her eyes began to twinkle with sheer devious joy.

There was, after all, a long list of people wanting to join Clan Ninja Monkey. They might not be ready for that yet, so why not bring them onboard in a hybrid fashion? A feeder system, so to speak, made up of new Clans. Clans that were part and parcel of Ninja Monkey yet separate. They could do a lot of the construction and secondary defense work while the Ninja Monkeys took on the primary combat duties.

“Who needs Paladin?” Morgan scoffed, pulling up a prompt and beginning to scratch out some notes as she began mentally building what would become a huge new Clan alliance. She’d need to recruit others, starting with Clan RaSeru. They were already on the border, but they’d need to get into a proper defensive line as well in order to prepare. The overall border was far too huge, but Morgan would take the hottest spot for invasion on her own shoulders while others would fill in around her.

Clan Star Fox was next on her list. Even though a chunk of them had moved Rimward they were still the largest Clan and could probably take up piece of the border. Not a big piece, but Randy’s Kiritas built so damn fast they could help out even with their resources split…and he had Paladin to draw on as well. She’d let him work on that angle and whether or not he wanted their assistance on the border. Probably not, given that most of them would be in the Rim Region, but it was his call.

Morgan selected several other Clans, all of which were not involved in the Rim Region, and made basic guesses as to what they could handle, plotting out a net around her now huge territory and nodded appreciably. It certainly didn’t cover most of the border, but the Skarrons would be hard pressed to attack them without coming through somewhere on this grid…and if they tried to flank them they’d have to go way the hell out of the way, in which case Star Force’s various factions could get involved. The Skarrons would not have a chance to build a string of support systems to flank them, for Morgan did not intend to just sit by and watch something like that happen. She’d strike first if they shot into the gap between Star Force and the Voku or the other surrounding regions, but she doubted they’d try that.

If a Crusade really was a juggernaut on steroids, then they’d just run into the first wall they found and try to smash it down…which was why Morgan was going to build a badass wall and sit behind it while they and the lizards fought it out, keeping quiet and buying as much time as possible before attracting attention. But if and when the hit came, it was going to come on this extended nub into lizard territory that she was going to make her own and fill it with her Ninja Monkeys and soon to be formed JV Clans.

Paul had said Davis approved and had left her in charge to organize the defense however she chose, so there was no point in asking for permission. Paul and Jason had added a Clan without permission and she was going to add hers…but first she needed to get her list of existing Clans onboard and set them in motion, for there was no time to waste. They had lizard worlds to take and hold, then a lot of building to do.

A lot of building…and without the resources of the ADZ, most of which were already spoken for in local projects or being exported to the Rim.

4

February 1, 3478

Solar System

Earth

“Come in,” Vortison said as he saw the Archon at his doorway.

“Are you sure about this?” Lara-379 asked.

“As sure as I can be. I can try it out on someone else first if you like, but I thought you deserved a bit of compensation after that previous debacle.”

“I don’t want to lose any more levels,” the newly reclaimed titan said as she walked into the genetics lab.

“You won’t,” the master tech said confidently.

“Alright then. I’ll risk it.”

Vortison waved her towards the nearby medical station and she walked in, pulling down the containment bar so the equipment fully surrounded her at the waist and the top of the chamber formed a cupola that would have shaded her had it not been indoors. As it was, there was a lot of subtle blue lighting on the device that marked it as Star Force made rather than V’kit’no’sat.

“I have to make adjustments as I go, so this will take longer than a typical ascension, but there should be no pain. I’m not numbing it out, so I want you to tell me if you feel anything.”

“Won’t the flash growth be painful?”

“Sorry. The spot numbing of the device will be intact, but ancillary blanket numbing will not. If there’s any spillover of damage or alterations occurring you will feel them.”

Lara nodded, simply standing in place as the machine scanned her and Vortison studied a series of holograms around and on top of his control station.

“You’re sure about this?” she reiterated.

“I wouldn’t have called you otherwise,” he said, continuing to work.

“Do you need me linked in?”

“Not just yet. There’s no need to be nervous.”

“No, none at all,” Lara mocked.

“Relax, Archon,” he said a bit more sternly. “These aren’t alien genetics I’m working with. I’ve been studying our code for over a millennia. I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure the V’kit’no’sat geneticists said the same thing.”

“Well I’m better than them…as of now, anyway.”

“Oh?”

“I’m catching up with the database knowledge and I’ve had to work my way up the ladder rather than having it spoon fed to me. I’m guessing I understand the subject matter better than most of them did, and I know they didn’t try anything like this.”

“You’re not filling me with a lot of confidence here.”

Vortison pointed up at the contraption around Lara. “We didn’t copy that one. We built it from scratch to suit our purposes. It’s superior to what the V’kit’no’sat use, not so much in raw technology, but as far as tailoring it to match Star Force’s methodology. I wrote a lot of the basic programming myself rather than just straight copying theirs. Most of it is similar, but I can assure you I understand what I’m doing rather than just repeating their accomplishments like a stamp monkey.”

Lara giggled despite her misgivings. “Stamp monkey?”

“A very old technology had a rubble mold with a pattern in it, so one with no artistic ability could put ink on it then ‘stamp’ it down onto paper and create an emblem of some sort. And they could do it again and again, hence the term ‘stamp monkey.’”

“You’re saying the V’kit’no’sat medtechs just knew how to push the buttons?”

“I wouldn’t discredit them that far, but when you’ve had to build the equipment you use, you tend to understand it better than those that are merely informed of how to operate it.”

“Alright then,” Lara said, setting her hands on the sphere in front of her, “impress me.”

“Just a moment more. I’m syncing your code oddities with the model. That should alleviate the…glitches this time.”

“I thought those were from the extra tissues?”

“Only if there wasn’t enough room for them, but the V’kit’no’sat aren’t that stupid. They can count. It’s the implementation that’s the problem, and programming a base sequence into the genetic template doesn’t take into account individual variations…hence you get a raw transition that you have to heal from afterwards.”

“And that’s why a regenerator takes away the pain?”

“It fixes what your body couldn’t on its own…at least not very fast, and in some cases such as yours, not at all.”

“Alright, but if I splinter like a porcupine again I’m kicking your ass.”

“I’m not worried,” Vortison said, bringing the interlinks online and freezing Lara’s hands to the sphere as the tiny tendrils of machinery bored microscopic holes into her skin and then extended throughout her body, giving him far more data than remote scans ever could. “Beginning ascension process now.”

Suddenly Lara felt her head wash with disorientation. There was no buildup this time, no swirling hurricane that she had to control. Rather it was a tsunami of internal resets that left her so loopy she didn’t know how she stayed standing…then she remembered that the machine was holding her still, for she couldn’t move a muscle. Lara’s head got its orientation back, but she was locked inside a statue’s pose until Vortison released that restriction as he saw her body’s control systems reasserting themselves.

“Any problems?” he asked as she shuffled her feet, though her hands were still stuck to the sphere.

“Dizzy.”

“Pain?”

“No. Is it done? I can’t feel anything.”

“I’m blocking the trigger at the moment. Tissue growths appear to be perfectly aligned. Stress on surrounding tissues is minimal. I’m making adjustments for it,” he said as she felt a bit of numbness enter additional areas spread all around her body, but most of Lara was still under her control and the machine didn’t need to lock her in statue mode again.

“Yes. This is looking good. Stand by for release. Stay within the chamber as you test, but try not to make shield contact with the equipment.”

A couple seconds later her hands unfroze from the contact sphere and she flexed them unnecessarily. There was no lingering numbness and all the microdamage of the tendrils had been regrown as they retreated.

With a thought she created a foot-wide patch of bioshield in front of her face, then felt around her own head looking for the new trigger.

“I got nothing.”

“May I?” he asked, picking up a pistol from a nearby rack.

“Don’t shoot your machine,” she warned, giving him a ‘go ahead’ nod.

“I won’t,” Vortison said, firing the small plasma discharge into her nearly transparent bioshield patch. The clear coloration meant it was at low intensity, attesting to how strong Lara’s shielding could get when she wanted it, for it fully absorbed and dissipated the attack without more than a brief twinkling of disruption. Had a more powerful shield been needed it would have taken on coloration, usually a blue tint, but it was technically possible to generate different colors based on the composition of the shield, which was variable to great extents.

“Whoa,” Lara said, blinking twice.

“And?”

“Something just opened up. Shoot again.”

Vortison hefted the pistol a second time, making sure his instrumentation was still fully monitoring with a glance to his left, then he fired. The blue plasma blast made a different sound on impact this time, absent the small crackle/warble that was typical. This one sounded like a ‘pong’ and got Lara giggling.

“Oh that tickles.”

“Shield strength has increased by 24%,” Vortison noted as he set the pistol aside.

“No. Shoot me again. That felt good.”

“I’ve got enough data. Step aside and I’ll light you up.”

“You do know how to talk to a girl,” she said sarcastically as the armbar raised and she walked out, flexing her arms before throwing them to her sides and generating a fully invisible shield in front of her. “I’m ready. Empty the clip.”

Vortison nodded, but stopped short as a pair of Archons stumbled into the room through the main door, one dragging the other.

“Rio?” Lara asked, seeing the cringing trailblazer being supported by a very junior second gen.

“Help,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“Put him inside,” Vortison said, snapping his fingers.

Lara responded instantly, picking him up and floating him over to the medical chamber she’d just used.

“Another?” Vortison asked Rio.

“I’m…holding it together…this time.”

“Unnecessary,” the medtech said as he sent the little tendrils into Rio’s hands and suddenly the pain blossoming throughout his body disappeared in a very welcome cascade.

“Mebvat?” Lara asked in a flush of worry, but Vortison just shook his head. “No. This is a new tier 4. Dream activated like before?”

“No,” Rio said, his voice no longer stammering, though he sounded incredibly fatigued. “Daydreaming. I was eating in the cafeteria when it happened. My mind wandered and next thing I knew I was a pain puddle on the floor. I had no control over the ascension. No override.”

“I don’t like the sound of that, but I am picking up some residual data. Thank you for coming here immediately,” he said, throwing the departing second gen a nod of thanks.

Rio ended his private telepathic conversation with the other Archon before he got out the door, leaving only the three of them in the room together.

“Something is wrong with this one,” Rio said once he’d left, wanting to keep information regarding the tier 4s to a limited number of people. “I have nothing but the pain. No additional knowledge or trigger to pull. I think something went wrong.”

“Shock there,” Lara said angrily, though her ire wasn’t directed at Vortison, or any other Human for that matter, with Rio finally getting around to thinking about her presence.

“You ok?” he asked, drawing a pleased smile from her lips.

“You just exploded and you’re asking if I’m ok?”

“Why are you here? Just a checkup?”

“She’s here because I figured out how to unlock Beynat, and I figured she deserved the first upgrade.”

“Me next,” Rio half joked. “Have you tested it?”

Lara nodded. “I had him shoot me, but we didn’t get very far until you came stumbling in.”

“Hey, at least I was walking under my own power.”

“There is that,” she admitted. “You are a badass.”

“Thank you. Now that’s we’ve got that established, what are you seeing?” he asked Vortison.

“A lot of new tissue.”

“Purpose?”

“It’s unfamiliar to me. I’m running a database search now, but I don’t think we’ll find a match in the V’kit’no’sat records either. I’ve been through all of them at least once, and the coding on this is…beyond me,” he admitted, throwing an apologizing glance at Lara.

“Higher level stuff?” she asked, giving him an out.

“There’s no documentation on tier 4s, and we believe they come exclusively from Zak’de’ron technology that was never shared with the V’kit’no’sat. I’m seeing a lot of damage here, Rio. I’m repairing it, but you’re going to lose a few levels minimum. Not like her,” he said quickly, “but you’ve definitely been roughed up.”

The Archon snarled, but held back whatever comment he was thinking of making when he glanced at Lara, knowing she’d had it far worse.

“Not the club you wanted to join?” she offered.

“At least the company is good,” he deflected. “Vort, what did I get?”

“Sorry, Rio. This is going to take me a while. You have no connectivity whatsoever?”

“No, and the machine has cleared my head, unless you’re numbing something else.”

“Damaged tissue is healed. Step on out,” the medtech said, releasing the lock on him.

Rio walked out, taking a huge sigh of relief as there was no more pain, but he couldn’t feel any new ability.

“Nothing.”

“I’ll work it from my end. You let me know if you get so much as a twinge.”

“How weak are you?” Lara asked.

Rio rotated his left arm around a bit and hopped in place. “Not too bad. Won’t know for sure until I get into training, but right now I need a nap.”

“I don’t,” she said, frowning as she looked at Vortison. “Why?”

“Your body didn’t grow the new tissue, the machine did.”

“Spurred it, you mean.”

“It controlled it, thus the strain didn’t incur.”

“Can you give the rest of us Beynat then?” Rio asked.

“Yes. But not to you until I figure out what you’ve got.”

“Great, I get a useless psionic and get blocked from getting a very cool one…to which end,” Rio said, telekinetically picking up Vortison’s pistol and flying it over into his hand. “Want me to shoot you some more?”

“Please,” Lara said with a pleasant smile, putting up her bioshield that soaked up every blast that Rio fired at her, then he saw her shiver and a wave of goosebumps travel across her exposed forearms.

“You ok?”

“Better than ok. That is so refreshing.”

“Feedback?”

“I think so. The energy absorption feels like it goes directly into recharging the shields, but some of it went through me. It tingles.”

“Yet something more we need to study,” Vortison interjected. “You, go nap. You,” he said, pointing to Lara, “back inside and let’s track down that tingle.”

2 weeks later…

Rio was in the cafeteria stuffing his face, but still painfully hungry. His stomach was full but his cravings wouldn’t stop…and nothing he ate seemed to taste right, like he needed food but once he put it in his mouth it suddenly became something he didn’t need. He’d even put on a touch of body fat, he was eating so much, and that infuriated him. Not only had he lost 4 levels due to the messed up ascension, but his metabolism was screwed up as well.

He stared down at his half full third tray and pushed it away, resisting the urge to fling it into a wall. Hungry or not, he wasn’t eating any more. His stomach was full even if his brain was saying otherwise. Rio stood up, belched, then returned his tray and left in a very bad mood intending to get some easy running in to help clear out some of the extra fuel he’d been taking in.

On his way through Atlantis’s corridors he passed by an active construction area where an entire wall had been cut away as a remodeling project was beginning. When he passed by he got a whiff of air that stopped him cold. It smelled so good but he couldn’t make out what it was or where it was coming from…but it was food, and food that his senses told him that he was lacking. In fact, it was what he’d mistakenly been trying to get out of a lot of other foods, but now that he’d smelled it there was no mistaking the allure.

He’d been eating the wrong foods for the craving that had just fully manifested itself, though he still didn’t know what it was.

Whatever the work crews were snacking on he was going to find out, so he made a sharp detour and followed his nose around a half wall and into the face of a pile of open crates full of spare parts, drawing a frown from the trailblazer. He used his Pefbar to look around and inside them, but there was no food here that he could see. The smell was still here though, so he kept sniffing around until one of the techs came over.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

“Can you smell that?”

“What, exactly?”

“Something tasty. What were you guys eating in here?” he asked, still roaming around following his nose.

“Nothing that I know of. We don’t bring food along with us.”

“I can’t see anything, but my nose says…” he cut off as a particular box caught his attention. The smell was definitely coming from it, but there was nothing but metallic rods inside. He took a long whiff and had the biggest craving yet, making him want to pull one out and snack on it.

“What the hell?”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, with a few more techs wandering over to see what was going on.

“What do these smell like to you?” Rio asked, pointing her towards the box.

She leaned over and sniffed. “Equipment. I don’t smell any food.”

“I do, and it’s coming from this box. Smells better than cookies,” he said, pulling out one of the assembly rods and sniffing it. “Yeah, it’s coming from these. What are they coated in?”

“They’re not. They’re raw product as far as I know,” she said, exchanging a few glances with the other techs that confirmed her statement via nods.

Rio held the rod up in front of his nose to take a long sniff, swearing that the rod was made of candy. On impulse he licked it, getting a few groans of disgust from the techs, then he dropped the rod back into the box before he uncontrollably took a bite. It tasted so good he wanted to eat the whole box, though he’d break his teeth if he tried.

“What’s going on?” the tech asked with a weird look on her face.

“I’m either going insane,” he said, picking up the rod he’d licked and holding it well away from his face as he turned and began to walk out, “or there’s something in this I need. I’m taking this,” he added as he left, leaving the techs wondering what the hell that had been about.

5

“You licked it?” Vortison asked with a screwy expression on his face.

“I’m craving something in it, and it’s keyed into my sense of smell too.”

“Of course it is,” the geneticist said, taking the rod from him. “Smell allows you to analyze food without having to put it in your mouth.”

“No, I mean the craving is. There’s a very powerful allure in it.”

“A lacking component to your mystery tissue,” he guessed aloud, putting the item in a seldom used molecular analyzer. Most of the work he did nowadays was theoretical, but he had a plethora of equipment to cover any possible permutations that he might encounter, though this was one of the weirdest he’d ever come across.

“Hmmm,” he said, seeing the list of molecules contained within it. “We’ll get to the bottom of this pretty quick,” he added, sending a quick requisition off to the appropriate personnel in Atlantis that handled logistics.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we’re going to do a taste test. I’m having pure samples of all the components brought in, then you’re going to tell me which you’re craving.”

“Well that’s too simple. Thought you’d be able to do it remotely,” Rio said deadpan.

Vortison raised an eyebrow. “Checking for an ego?”

“Guess not then, but I need this fixed in a hurry. I don’t know how much to eat anymore.”

The medtech pointed to the medical station and Rio walked himself inside, soon with his diagnostic holograms being displayed for Vortison to inspect.

“You’re getting fat,” he said bluntly.

“My cravings are screwing up my balance…and I’m not going to start counting calories. I have to reset, but I don’t think I can do it until I know what this anomaly is.”

“You’re eating everything trying to satisfy it?”

“Pretty much.”

“You are showing some imbalances, but I’d guess they’re symptoms of this rogue craving rather than the cause…” he trailed off as he found something else. “Your brain activity is showing a critical level depletion. No wonder you’re eating everything in sight.”

“So my brain thinks I’m starving?”

“Yes. Exactly. And it’s overpowering the rest of your biotelemetry indicating that you’re getting too much. There’s definitely a priority here related to the new tissue…unless this is another malfunction, which is a possibility.”

“I’d prefer part of the design.”

“So would I, but I don’t often get what I want. Unless you want to try sucking on that rod, just sit tight until the samples get here.”

“I’ll wait,” Rio said, sitting down on a nearby chair and crossing his arms as he stared at the rod with an odd fixation, for the scent of it was driving him all but mad.

Eventually a supply tech came in with a box full of small samples, each isolated from the others via an individual containment box, air tight as requested.

“Thank you,” Vortison said as he accepted the various materials and placed the large box on a nearby table as the tech left. He walked over and retrieved the enticing rod and placed it inside a sealed container and put it out of sight, then caused the air in the lab to cycle by adjusting a nearby control panel, slowly flushing the scents out of the room.

“Can you smell it now?”

“Just a trace.”

Vortison ran another cycle for a few minutes, then Rio gave him a thumbs up.

“Alright, sniff each and let me know,” he said, opening the first container and handing it to him. “Even if it’s a small recognition.”

Rio raised the small clear cube up to his face and sniffed, shaking his head immediately. He handed it back to Vortison and took another, also without a reaction. One after another they moved through the samples until they got to the last three. As soon as Vortison opened it Rio’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god I want that,” he said before even seeing it.

“Overpowering?”

“More than before. What’s in there?”

Vortison stuck his fingers inside and pulled up a tiny chunk of metal, or rather metalish, for it was non-conductive and a very distinctive green.

“Corovon,” the medtech said curiously. “I’d bet your new tissue is going to be a biological version of some technology.”

“How much can I ingest before it becomes toxic?”

“How to get it in you is the question. If you swallow even tiny chunks it’ll just pass through. It’s not dissolvable.”

“Apparently I’m supposed to eat it.”

Vortison tapped his chin thoughtfully. “We’ll need an extremely fine powder, and that’s not something I can produce here.”

“How much do you think?”

“Not much, but if it spreads throughout your body it might require a lot. I’m worried about it not traveling well through the blood stream, as heavy as it is.”

“Injection?”

“I’m leery of that as well. If you’re craving it, it’s best we pursue that avenue.”

“Can’t we let the machine build it into me?”

“Your genetic code isn’t fully deployed in the new tissue, which is why I can’t determine what it does. There’s a trigger mechanism, and I’m guessing that the corovon entering the tissue will start a metamorphosis that will unlock the full genetic code and develop the tissue to its functional state.”

“Alright then, put the powder into some cookies and let’s go.”

Vortison frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not sure what side effects the corovon would have on you.”

“What do the V’kit’no’sat files say?”

“Nothing. Nobody ever swallowed any before.”

“Never?”

“It’s too rare and the people using it in its pure form know better. There’s not even any theoretical projections on it. Like I said, it’d have to be a very fine powder, and when does corovon come in powder?”

“Point,” Rio conceded. “Whatever goes wrong the mega regenerator can fix, right?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ve been through some pretty bad ascension pain and survived. I’ll survive the worst this can do to me, but these cravings are not something I can function with. Put in the order and get me my nom noms.”

“I’d advise caution,” Vortison said as a couple of additional medtechs and even Arch Duke Vectir were standing by to watch, having heard of the unusual situation going down. “But I know it’d be wasted on you,” he added as he handed Rio his plate of six cookies with white icing.

“I’ve never been this hungry in my life,” he said, taking the first one and biting it carefully. His mouth almost disintegrated from the taste of it. It was so good he might as well had been drunk, but he focused on the simple task of chewing and got his mouth into workable order…then wolfed down the rest of the cookie in typical Archon fashion. The remaining five didn’t last long either, with Rio even licking the plate to get a few crumbs that were left behind.

“Is that all?” he asked, eyeing the box they’d come in.

“We don’t know how much you’ll need, so just wait and step back into the machine.”

Rio moaned, then reluctantly dragged himself away from the nearby box that appeared to be the holy grail from his altered senses’ point of view. When he got inside the analysis cage Vortison monitored the digestion process, and the somewhat long period of time was driving Rio mad up until he suddenly clutched the small of his back as he winced in pain.

“That’s something,” he said, starting to get bits of pain all over his body. Nothing major, but something was happening.

“More flash growth…this is amazing.”

“Ow,” Rio said as the little ‘pops’ continued to grow in volume.

“It’s not an ascension, but a readjusting of the tissue in response to the corovon. Lots of chemical reactions occurring, so expect some gaseousness. Oh my…”

“What?” Vectir asked as Rio slightly doubled over, riding out the discomfort.

“I can see what’s happening. It’s going to take a long time, so give him the rest of the box. We may even need more.”

“Yes…cookies…please,” Rio said, not bothering to wait until the nearest tech grabbed the box and brought it to him. He telekinetically opened and emptied the contents, sending a floating string of cookies across the room to him like a little tasty convoy that he devoured one by one at the end of their journey.

“What is it?” Vectir asked, walking up behind Vortison.

The geneticist pointed to a particular hologram on his left. “This is familiar…but not in biology. It’s technological, as I expected, and modified into the biological, but the basic components are still the same chemical equations, which require corovon.”

“I’m not a tech,” the Arch Duke reminded him. “What is it?”

“Anti-grav,” Vortison said, shaking his head in dismay as Rio finally broke his cookie trance and looked at him. “I think he’s going to be able to fly.”

Rio ran up the staircase, switching directions back and forth as he ascended the 42 meter height to the top of the platform where he subsequently walked off, falling back down to the ground of one of the trainees’ challenge courses. His flight ‘muscles’ strained under his weight, pushing back against gravity but failing. They slowed his descent but could not sustain him, dropping him to the grass somewhat gently.

His feet landed with a thud, then he was running around to the opposite side and hitting the stairs again, heading back to the top and giving the psionic tissue attached to his skeleton at 86 points across his body a brief respite before using it again and floating back down to the ground. The trailblazer continued to repeat the process for the better part of half an hour, after which he couldn’t sustain himself any longer and fell the last time, catching himself with a telekinetic crash bag as he dropped, then dumped himself onto the ground where he sat and breathed heavily.

The rest of his body was fine, but this new tissue was weak as hell and sucking most of the oxygen out of his system. He’d made a point of not drawing on his Hanme backups, but this was ridiculous…as was learning how to use it. All his other psionics came with some sort of genetic memory to allow him to function right off the bat, but this was more like adding a long missing part of his body that he had to develop the motor control for on his own.

That and he was a good 6 pounds heavier since the corovon had been added. Volume wise that wasn’t much, considering how dense the stuff was, but 6 pounds on his otherwise 157 pound frame was a chunk. It was going to slow him down in virtually every other physical category, but this was totally worth it…or would be once he learned how to fly.

Coordinating all the flight muscles was tricky, but having thought this through long ago watching cartoons he knew he’d be able to do a lot more than just move in a straight line. He should be able to dance in the air, and even fight with his feet a few inches off the ground…meaning double kick potential and a lot of other cool things, but he was so weak and clumsy right now it was almost laughable.

At least the corovon cravings had gone away. Vortison had said that should be permanent, for the function of the muscles didn’t have him losing the material, and aside from getting shot and having to regrow the tissue he wouldn’t have to be adding any more corovon. He was at saturation point and had had all the excess stripped out of his bloodstream, losing a couple more pounds in the process, and while his tissue might get denser with time it wouldn’t get much bigger.

In theory anyway. Without having any data on this Vortison conceded that he might at some point in the distant future require more corovon, maybe, but that the insane cravings were only because he had none in his body to begin with, and if he ever needed more it’d be a much lighter and manageable craving. Though the medtech was still betting on never given the structure of the flight muscles involved. The corovon helped to create the basic repulsory elements, not the power that fed to them, so the improvements should come in the latter category and be corovon free.

But if he went Knight size he’d need more, though that wasn’t in the cards. Bottom line was, he shouldn’t have to worry about the cravings anymore and he was glad of that. Immediately after getting his corovon fill he had felt so bloated as the rest of his body’s ‘too full’ warning signs reasserted themselves, plus all those extra cookies he’d eaten to get the corovon into his system.

He’d purged all that excess fuel with low level workouts and had gotten back into his fit trim, adding these new workouts once a day until he hit failure point. It was like when you ran so much your legs just called it quits and dumped you onto the ground when you stepped in a hole and stumbled. There might be some strength left in them, but they decide to crumple whether you like it or not.

And that meant he was done for today, but when he got his breathing under control and stood up the rest of his body was perfectly fine. He even took off running across the combat course for a bit of a victory tour, noting how he was fatigued in some parts of his body while full of energy in others. It was very odd, with only his breathing rate tied into both, but he figured he’d get used to it eventually.

That ‘eventually’ added up to 3 months and 18 days until he was strong enough to be able to jump into the air and hover in place, though balancing the ‘thrusts’ from all his various parts was insanely difficult. He wasn’t strong enough to just use a few, so he had to try and coordinate all of them. In hover trucks a computer evened out the different gravity drives to keep it level and that’s what he had to do now. Same sort of thing had happened to him when he was a baby learning how to walk. Numerous muscles had to coordinate themselves to move his frame and this was no different…except the rest of him wasn’t growing and learning at the same time, which made the contrast stand out and him extremely frustrated.

But also eager at the same time, for while this was very hard to control he had unlimited time to master it, and when he did he’d end up being Goku…or at least Yamcha. Right now though he was Goten, just learning how to fly, and he could really appreciate the struggles with that now that it was real rather than a bit of cartoon entertainment.

He wondered how fast he’d be able to get, both in straight line speed and acceleration/deceleration. Could he blink across the battlefield, redirecting faster than he could even when he ran? There were so many possibilities he was practically pounding his fists in frustration. He wanted to fly now, but there was a huge learning curve involved, not to mention the physical development required. If he’d just been born in a fully grown body, he’d have been too weak to stand, let alone walk or run, but that didn’t matter to him, because he really wanted this now and was continually frustrated with how long it was taking him.

And because of that he kept his training to himself. If he was going to stumble and crawl his way into this new ability he’d prefer to do it without anyone watching him. It was a great deal easier to pick yourself up after a fall and get back at it when you didn’t have to worry about someone else’s impressions or explaining your mistake to them. Training in groups or even pairs had advantages, but so did training solo and this was one of them that Rio intended to continue to make use of until he was ready to show off…no matter how much the other Archons wanted to see.

He did make an exception for the few trailblazers on Earth, and even got their help with some telekinetic stabilization that allowed him to focus more on propulsion than wobbling, but then again they never laughed when he fell or asked for an explanation. They knew what he was doing and how he’d have to adjust to it, and how he didn’t need help getting up after he fell or any polite words of reassurance. They just stood by and helped where they could, but he wasn’t going to waste their time with a lot of help because the amount of repetition it was taking to progress was insane.

He thought it was his imagination, but after conferring with Vortison and some tests they both determined that he was in fact learning slower with this new ability than he should be, and the reason was that he didn’t have a finished product, rather a prototype.

A lot of the neurons and other structures within the tissue hadn’t been fully formed. There was enough there to crudely function, but it seemed that there was still an ongoing growth process that spurred off his training. His tissue was adapting and finishing the design process on its own, with some incredibly complex genetic algorithms that even Vortison was scratching his head at. The only explanation he could give Rio was that the Zak’de’ron had never finished developing a Zen’zat flight muscle design because no one had earned it, thus they’d programmed the final adjustments to be made on the spot.

Which meant that if there were some Zak’de’ron Zen’zat out there that had this ability, albeit in the past, then their psionic tissue might have adapted differently than his. What that meant he wasn’t sure, because flight was flight, but the consequence of this was clear.

The training he was doing right now was extremely important…and he didn’t know what he was supposed to be tailoring it towards.

Once this adaptation process finalized he should be able to further develop and normally adapt with training as did the rest of his body’s muscles and tissues, meaning he had a very important timeframe here that he had no guidance on. He was just going to have to train as best he knew how for an ability he’d never seen before and hope his final design came out alright…though neither he nor Vortison knew what ‘all right’ would look like or what they were potentially missing.

If there was a malfunction that occurred then that would show up, but beyond that they were both operating in the dark with Vortison already working on the basic mechanics of this flight tissue. A few months of study had been worth more than a millennia of fiddling around on his own. The depth of knowledge the Zak’de’ron possessed was never more evident than it was now…all of which made him question again what had really happened to Lara. Had it been a Zak’de’ron programming mistake…or something else that had gone wrong?

He might never know, but he had to work with the Archons and their abilities regardless of how much information he had…and this new tissue of Rio’s was giving him a lot more to work with, as well as opening up a lot of new questions.

As for the trailblazer, he knew he just had to keep pressing on and see where this led. DBZ style combat might be centuries off, but the mere idea of that was enough to sustain him through the monotonous and simplistic training exercises.

And when it wasn’t, the holographic Vegeta ‘coach’ he’d had made for him showed up and began chewing him out over his unworthiness…and if you wanted someone to motivate you via insults, there was no one better. Especially when he offered you a ‘bitch mint.’

Unfortunately his little tool didn’t stay a secret for long, and soon the other trailblazers and second gen were demanding they get copies of their own and in other characters. Morgan was the only one that sent him a personal thank you note, saying her Piccolo was the perfect training assistant…after she incorporated it into the V’kit’no’sat training hologram technology.

At which point Rio then requested a copy of it from her…and a small training revolution started within the Archon ranks that would eventually spread out across Star Force all the way down to the civilian ranks and leave a permanent mark on their training philosophy going forward.

6

March 15, 3479

Alamo System (Uriti Preserve)

Warden Station

Peter-2576 was linked into the telemetry of several of the Uriti as the Knights of Quenar convoy arrived. He wanted to know if the Uriti knew what was coming, and even with it sedated they immediately reacted to the presence of the large ship as it jumped into the system. From his point of view he could only tell they were reacting to the presence with anticipation and glee, but he wasn’t sure if they could sense the new Uriti inside or just deduced it by the size of the ship and the escort that had brought it nearly a quarter of the way across the galaxy.

Whichever was the case, they were breaking from their previous positions and heading for the convoy. Matti-2548 was already there and waiting, so he wasn’t going to be giving the Uriti any orders today, but he did want to eavesdrop on them and pick up whatever insights he could. After 194 years in this assignment he still didn’t know as much about them as he’d liked, but he had nailed their reaction to this. To date there were some 11 collected, but none were as large as the one incoming.

The Knights of Quenar ships…the most Star Force had ever seen in one place…split off from the giant cargo carrier as it began to shred on its own accord, revealing a four-fingered starfish-shaped Uriti that glowed with a pale white light. It outmassed all the other Uriti easily, stretching some 120 miles long tip to tip, but right now its arm ends were curled around and compressed inside the container and remained that way even as the ship peeled back and broke into several smaller segments that quickly withdrew.

Peter watched from afar through their own senses as the other Uriti approached unafraid of their long lost brother. The historical records of the devastation this one had wrought were horrifying, and he wondered if even the V’kit’no’sat could have been able to stop it without suffering horrendous losses. It was truly massive, but as it slowly began to wake Peter was able to glimpse its telemetry as well. It had been dormant for such a long time it boggled the mind to think how it could have survived, but this one was strong. Far stronger than the others had been when they woke, making this Uriti the primadonna of the group even before it was fully back to consciousness.

Yet whatever its last memories were, they weren’t good ones. As it woke it struck out reflexively, unfurling its arms and sending a cascade of lightning off into the void around it. Peter frowned at that, for such energy arcs typically needed a source to jump to, but soon distant telemetry from observing ships showed faint vapor trails where the lightning had coursed through. Somehow the Uriti, whom the Chixzon had named Irraprei, had sent out a faint physical tentacle through which to strike the lightning…and it was moving even now. It registered as gaseous, but it was twisting and bending around like an additional limb.

That was definitely something the other Uriti didn’t have, but the Chixzon had been experimenting with each version and they’d gone with something wildly different for #12. That also meant this was probably one of the more unstable ones, but as the other Uriti came closer its gaseous tentacles suddenly dissipated and its agitated state started to slip away with exhilaration replacing it. Peter couldn’t get a read on its mind like a normal telepathic link, but the interface did let the ‘owner’ know what shape the Uriti was in, physically and mentally, and this one, like those before it, was showing signs of extreme surprise and happiness.

Three of the other Uriti came in close to it and began bathing it in another form of lightning, somehow helping it purge the remaining sedative and awaken long dormant attributes. After the ‘car wash’ was over with they all lingered close together with a large amount of conversation going on that Peter couldn’t eavesdrop on, unfortunately. But that didn’t stop Bahamut from contacting him and sending a simple ping of gratitude that sounded like an emotional bomb going off from the Archon’s end.

Thankfully there were inhibitors built into the equipment now to keep such things from overwhelming the wrangler, though the allowable limit was still really ‘loud.’

He responded with a much more subtle reply, but the two second exchange gave him a direct link into the Uriti’s powerful mind and each time that rarity occurred he tried to grasp more about how they were wired…but right now it was clear that it was elated and satisfied at the same time, which had become the standard response every time a new Uriti arrived. More were on the way, supposedly, but the handing over of the dangerous beasts was not something a lot of guardian races did lightly. The Knights of Quenar had secured this one through what Star Force thought might have been combat, but they hadn’t been specific and there was no point in pushing the matter.

If they had fought a war to get it, it was so far from here that Star Force couldn’t watch over their shoulder, and there really wasn’t an option to say no and not take the Uriti. They wanted them all here, needed them all here, so they had no leverage to work with and the Archons and Dukes that ran the preserve knew it.

They accepted that, but the Knights of Quenar were still a dangerous enigma that Peter never knew if or when they’d stab him in the back. Star Force had gone through a lot of precautions to make sure they couldn’t sneak into various places, but so long as the Uriti were kept safe here the KoQ didn’t interact much with them and the other races. The preserve was still a hot crossroads that many powerful races wanted representation in, but some of the novelty had worn off now that Star Force had proved that they could successfully contain the Uriti.

The haters had moved on, unable to stir up the ruckus they’d hoped for, but the preserve had also become a major tourist attraction drawing in ships from so far rimward that they didn’t even belong to The Nexus, and even some from coreward that knew of the V’kit’no’sat by reputation, though thankfully not by race, for they hadn’t identified the Humans as Zen’zat or Ter’nat.

And now that there was a new ‘attraction’ it was sure to garner more attention, though Peter didn’t think it’d be trouble so long as this new one didn’t cause trouble on its own accord.

Within a few hours of arrival Riley, who’d come back for the occasion, signaled what the new name of the Uriti would be.

Devastator.

Peter thought that was appropriate, and hoped the indoctrination of this one wasn’t going to be an issue, but as had happened before the other Uriti were one step ahead of the Archons and started taking Devastator through one of the nearby training courses before Matti even ordered them too. The Archon got the first run ‘sanctioned’ and they had a good two weeks of mingling and light training for the newcomer, then it was Peter’s turn when he took all the Uriti out of the system to the next leg on their circuit, practicing a combined jump with the new guy included.

He didn’t have trouble with it, and when they arrived in the Titran System they got access to the more intense training courses, for the Alamo System was the simplest of them all and more of a ‘rest’ stop for the Uriti than anything. It was also home base and where all additional incoming Uriti were introduced, which also provided a spectacle for the observers, for it was the only system they were allowed in unescorted.

Titran was a lot less outfitted with ‘hospitality’ facilities and had only three such stations. Everything else was training equipment, and when the Uriti were involved that meant some pretty big constructs. Rule number 1 was that it all had to be produced locally, so not to draw down resources from other needs, but they had a decent army of workers spread throughout the preserve mining and building what they needed, and most of the targets had been constructed so to absorb the Uriti attacks.

That didn’t always happen as planned, for they often exceeded instructions and attacked with an ability that wasn’t intended, but for the most part they were cooperating and trying to do as told. One thing Peter had learned though, was that they easily got carried away. An analogy to dogs wasn’t quite right, and was really a disservice to the Uriti, for they were far more…more. He didn’t have a word for it, for there was nothing else to compare with, but holding back wasn’t one of their strong suits.

When he introduced Devastator to one of their firing courses that involved a lot of weaving and moving around ‘no touch’ targets while firing on others, he took to it eagerly and moved his massive bulk through the course with decent skill, but he was far less impressive than the others…and that wasn’t because of his greater size. Peter was taking that into consideration, but like all the Uriti when they first arrived, they’d never done anything like this before. It was like having a person run who had only walked and crawled their entire life, and the duties the Chixzon had them do was little more than walk up to a planet and wreck it.

Devastator was getting frustrated by his lack of comparable skill, which was evident in his mental status. Peter didn’t know what he was thinking, but anger and frustration caused telltale spikes in various categories, all of which was punctuated when he came to the first target sphere that was the size of a small seda. He was supposed to fire his pinpoint beam weapon from one of his arms only, but instead he flew up to the sphere, wrapped his body around it, and crushed the thing like a toy ball with a massive force field.

“Oooouuccchhh,” Peter winced, not only at the loss of the target but the sheer destructive power that it had so easily wielded. And he was really glad that hadn’t been an actual seda…or ship.

“Ok, remember to never piss him off…check,” he said as he connected with Devastator and ordered him to continue on with the course and to not do that to the other targets, reiterating a single beam attack.

When he got to the next one a topaz beam skewered the target, impacting and absorbing into the shields for a full 12 seconds before it finally penetrated and began to burn through the construct that was also seda sized.

“Stop,” Peter said, trying to keep some of the target salvageable. When he was trying to figure out what to do next he felt Devastator’s mind contact his and got his first glimpse of what the Uriti truly was.

Which was remarkably calm.

It asked without using words if it had erred, citing its previous mistake but that it had not done the same thing again. Peter figured out how to construct a response in images detailing that it had been his mistake and that he had underestimated the Uriti’s firepower. In order to avoid destroying the other targets he told Devastator to navigate the course but not fire on them until they could get recalibrated.

Then the Uriti responded with an image of reduced beam intensity, which Peter then haggled with him over until he thought it would be adequate. He chanced another expensive target being destroyed, but when Devastator got to it he blasted away like he had the last time…save he only attacked it for 3 seconds. That wasn’t enough to penetrate the shields, preserving the target, but it wasn’t what they’d just agreed upon.

It was better, sort of, and it seemed like this Uriti didn’t have too much trouble rewriting orders as it saw fit. That could be a serious problem down the road, but it wasn’t something unexpected. He’d dealt with this to a lesser extent in the others, but given that this was one of the earlier Uriti he was going to have to work with it more in order to get a proper relationship established where both sides knew what the other expected. Fortunately he had the other Uriti here setting an example, and in subsequent runs they didn’t deviate from orders…which had him breathing a huge sigh of relief, for he didn’t want them picking up bad habits from the new guy.

As he learned later, that’s exactly what they viewed Devastator as…the new guy. He was larger and far more powerful, but he was the junior here in the pecking order and on some level he accepted that. Peter thought it was probably just reluctant acceptance given the fact that he’d never been around other Uriti before and was therefore not inclined to compete against them, rather to show off for them. And in this context that meant completing the course as instructed.

Maybe Bahamut was explaining it to him, for he seemed the most vocal of them all with the Archons and often would be the one with the most registered telepathic activity. Peter didn’t know how much help he was getting from him and the others, but whatever was occurring it was working. After only a few months on the circuit he felt that Devastator had integrated himself into the group and accepted the Archons above and beyond the built in obedience that he seemed capable of modifying.

Peter knew that building respect was the key to keep him from doing that, but as an Archon he knew that adaptation was important so he didn’t just want Devastator to just ‘shut up and do what he was told.’ That would be counterproductive, for all the others had gotten in the habit of offering suggestions about how to modify things in the preserve, and sometimes they had ideas that even the Archons hadn’t thought up.

One such obstacle course went down in and through a star, which the Uriti found challenging due to the density of the material that they liked trying to race through. It was never predictable, with cross currents and upwells, and it was by far one the most taxing of the drills that Peter had them do, but they still wanted more. More challenges, tougher challenges, and new skills to learn. They wanted to grow more powerful, and it always came back around to the distant threat that wanted to kill them.

For some reason they never challenged this assertion, though the Archons had no proof to give them of the V’kit’no’sat or what they’d done to fight the Hadarak. Peter wasn’t even allowed to tell them of the Hadarak, but the Uriti knew the threat to them was real. Perhaps that wasn’t too unexpected when their entire lives had seen people attacking them. They’d never had an ally, always being the single point of strength thrown into system after system of enemies. They’d had minions grown, but they were mere tools, not peers, and now that there were multiple Uriti together they seemed hell bent on getting as strong as they could in order to protect the others.

It was all about the others for them, and they feared them dying more than themselves. They’d never realized they had brothers and sister before, yet there was always an instinctual connection that had never been fulfilled up until now. And the preserve was where that happened, making it their home, their sanctuary, and their turf.

And they wanted Star Force to teach them how to best defend it.

7

June 30, 3480

Zordon System (Ninja Monkey territory)

Alpha

Morgan stood in the still smoking ruins of the largest city on the recently captured and claimed planet, renamed ‘Alpha’ along with the system after Power Rangers lore. The Ninja Monkeys had taken two planets and four fairly well developed moons in a little over 3 months. Two entire planets full of lizards were now nothing more than toast with a few roaming hunter teams looking for survivors to capture, or more likely kill, to make sure that their victory was a clean sweep.

The lizards didn’t stand a chance, not only for the now massive technology gap and the elite nature of Morgan’s Clan, but because she had devoted a significant portion of her forces to this assault behind enemy lines. Well behind, in fact. It was in the middle of the region she planned to conquer, bypassing dozens of others in typically arrogant Morgan fashion. The lizards couldn’t stop her, so there was no reason to go after the systems in order of which was closest. The Zordon System was going to be the center of her defensive wall against the Skarron Crusade if it manifested, so it made sense to take it first and get construction under way as soon as possible.

It wasn’t going to be on the front lines, but rather the focal point of her expansions. The largest and strongest point of defense that she was going to work everything else around…but right now it was just a system full of dead bodies and ruined lizard infrastructure that had to be cleaned up and recycled. But that wouldn’t last for long.

“Take a look around,” Morgan said to the five other Archons with her. San-1299, Bror-4398, Andria-7337, Cressie-10001, and Todd-11933 stood perched on various pieces of rubble around a loose semi-circle, each with several meters of gap between them. She’d called them down here after the final assaults, with no one else within miles, lizard or Star Force.

“This is it. This is where we break from the other Clans. We’re better, we all know that. Not necessarily in naval, or mechs, or commandos, or aerial, or aquatics…definitely not aquatics, but we are better. You can feel it. It’s in the very air we breathe, from Archons down to basic workers. We aren’t here to enjoy the view or live our lives in comfort. We’re here to push the limits, day in and day out. No other Clan does.”

“They would disagree with that, but they’re wrong, and for reasons that they probably don’t fully understand. Most of their pressing in training, and as far as training scores go a lot of them surpass us. I brought this Clan to the border so we didn’t have to fully train. We needed a real enemy to fight, for it is only when our lives are actually on the line do we gain an element of sharpness that training alone will never create, and it comes from the knowledge that we are the last line of defense. There is no one watching our back. It is on us to succeed or fail, and failure usually means death.”

“This has been lost on most people within Star Force, for the empire has become so large and strong that they don’t think in the same terms we do, and that is the reason why I have created such damn hard training simulations and standards. It is to drive that complacency out of us and keep it out. Do not misunderstand me…I am not anti-training, and you all know that.”

Cressie laughed, noting the understatement of the millennia, but neither she nor the others said anything, letting Morgan have her moment of monologue.

“But there is something critical missing in training alone. We take safety precautions so no one dies in training, and rightly so, but when you survive and prevail in a situation where there are no safeties you gain something. Something unspoken, but you know it’s there. You’ve stared into the abyss of death, sometimes passing within inches of it, and if you do it enough you come to not fear it. Rather you flip it off and mock it, and that is the essence of the Ninja Monkeys. We have that edge, that advantage, and that is why we are better. And now Star Force needs that strength.”

“We are still too small to tackle the threat of the Skarrons on our own. Had I increased our population by other means it would have meant watering down our standards, which would have killed our edge. We would have been powerful, but only like the other Clans. That is not something to sneer at, but it is not enough for me. We have to be the tip of the sword, to go where the other Clans will not or cannot. That comes naturally for me, as a trailblazer, and you five have come to know this as well given the responsibilities placed upon you over the years. Responsibilities that had you in full command and the fate of many others relying solely on your judgement.”

“We have to draw a line in the sand and hold it. If we don’t, the others will be vulnerable. The ADZ will be vulnerable, despite its current strength. I’ve been reviewing the force projections that Cal-com sent to Paul and the spamming capability of the lizards does not hold a candle to what they think is coming our way. This is the Skarrons’ ultimate weapon, and one of last resort. They empty virtually everything they have in order to beat the opponent they can’t beat, knowing that if they persist in limited warfare they will lose via attrition…so they stomp it out, coming in with so much firepower and numbers that an opponent cannot stand against them.”

“They leave the rest of their empire vulnerable, willing to suffer whatever losses occur in order to get the main threat out of the way. This is why there have only been 3 recorded Crusades in their history. It is not a reliable tactic. It is not wise. It is desperation, but it is also them going all-in and they believe it will give them victory in any and all circumstances. The arrogance of this is what the Voku think will have the Skarrons going after them and us after they finish the lizards, or perhaps simultaneously. When you’re bringing Thor’s hammer out of the armory, you might as well smash anything and everything you can with it before you have to put it back again.”

“It could very well be make or break. Depends on how stupid they are. If they pull back after one objective is accomplished and they can’t get the others…that would be wise, but if they are so arrogant to believe the need to smash everything in view they could end up destroying their own empire in the process. Fear of their vulnerability might also drive them to this, needing to take out the opposition before they see how weak they are after the Crusaders spread back out and the empire’s local strength is considerably diminished with what will be massive losses.”

“I can’t tell you how this is going to go down, or even if it is going to happen. The probability of it happening is strong. I don’t think the Voku would be preparing if it wasn’t. And they take orders from the Zak’de’ron,” she said, getting a startled reaction from the other Archons who’d never heard that before. “Yes, the dragons lead them secretly, since long, long ago. They warned them of something coming their way, and the Skarrons seem the likely cause.”

“But even if they don’t manifest, we are still taking this region and creating the wall. One day the V’kit’no’sat are going to come back, and I intend to fight and confound them right here. We are taking no civilians. Every world will be a battle world, designed to fight and bleed the enemy before it is taken. We have to be the distraction to keep our enemies away from the ADZ. If they go straight there we make their lives hell basing out of here and hit and run until they come to take us out. We become a nuisance if nothing else, but we have to have a home territory. A place where we have an advantage. I’d greatly prefer to have a Uriti or two with us, but that’s not going to be an option. So other than the preserve, I want this,” she said, gesturing around them to the rubble they stood in, “to become the biggest death trap our enemies will ever see.”

“To do that we’re going to design differently. Some of our infrastructure is going to be permanent, as is necessary, but the core of our cities are going to be mobile. Pick up and go mobile. The add-ons we may lose, but we can move and land elsewhere as needed preserving our core industrial base. It’s also how we’re going to build up this territory faster than ever seen before. One flying city will land and expand, then leave the expansions to continue on while it moves to another region, planet, or system. I’ve already got a design team working on it, and we’ll have our first prototypes out within the next 2 years.”

“But that’s not why I’ve brought you here. We have a fundamental problem, and that is size. We can build infrastructure, but we can’t build experienced personnel as fast as needed and we can’t water down the Clan with new blood. We have to maintain our standards and I will not compromise our edge. But in order to take control of this region without calling upon more Clans to assist, we’re going to have to create more Clans of our own.”

“Each of you, if you’re willing, will take on the task of building another Clan of Ninja Monkeys using personnel that do not currently qualify for our standards. Many want into our Clan, so there should be no shortage of recruits, and if and when they grow more experienced they will transition over to this Clan or opt to stay and strengthen the feeders. The point is that there is a lot of work that can be done by people that are not up to our standards. Work that we need done. Building, patrolling, lower level combat, and with that experience the recruits will develop faster here than they will elsewhere in Star Force.”

“Those in the Rim Region aren’t coming. The need there is too great, so all we have to work with is the defensive units in the ADZ and surrounding areas and the volunteers coming from those not involved in the now excessive combat taking place out there. I admit, I’m a bit envious of it. I thought I’d erred and committed us to a lesser fight, but when I got word of the potential Crusade I knew that we were going to be in the thickest of the fighting and that we had a chance to prepare for it in a way we’ve never had before. The Crusade won’t be on our doorstep tomorrow, and even if it launched now it has so many lizard systems to cut through first we’ll have a lot of time to prepare.”

“That is our fight. Others will deal with the defense of the ADZ and the annexation of the Rim Region. We are to be the shield that gives them the opportunity to continue doing what they need to do. If we fail, they have to come back and a whole lot of people die. We cannot allow that. We have to hold firm, and to do that we need more numbers and we need to dig in…but not in a way that makes us obvious targets.”

“There is another secret I will tell you, and this one must not go beyond us nor go into any sort of records being kept,” she said, eyeing each of them. “There are not 100 Clans, there are 101. Saber and Sangheili spawned another in secret known as Ghostblade. They hold no territory and are based off a moving starfleet. All their industry, population, warships…everything is in ships and therefore they have no base of operations to target. They move about like ghosts and have been feeding off the lizards for a very long time. They are the Clan that no one knows exists and our secret weapon, but we have to do better than that, and we will.”

“We can’t be that invisible, but their ships are what gave me the idea for the flying cities. We have to be less of a static defense and more of a mobile threat coupled with fixed emplacements that will draw enemies here so we can thin their numbers. We have to expect to lose those emplacements, but if we do our job we’ll take so many enemies with them it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll be designing everything, so that’s not your concern. What I need from each of you is a new Clan, part of the Ninja Monkey pact, but definitely inferior. Yours will be learning Clans until their strength increases, but it will be learning through action and you will be building them on the fly.”

Morgan looked to San. “You will form Clan Tigerzord, with an emphasis on logistics. Bror, Clan Falconzord. Focus on movement. Patrols, asset transfer, escorts, mapping, ganks. Cressie, Clan Ultrazord. You’re getting the weakest recruits I’m allowing and you’re going to get them in bulk. I need a comprehensive Clan with no specialties. You’re not quite going to be the lizards as far as spamming go, but when I need 1,000 things done it’s going to come down to your Clan.”

The trailblazer pointed to Todd. “Clan Morphzord. You’re going to focus on creating our mobile tech, starting with the flying cities and then adding a lot of other designs we’re working on. You’re mass producing them and coming up with any good ideas on your own. You’re going to be tech heavy, but all the Clans are going to be fully fleshed out, even if some of you only have a very limited combat wing.”

“Andria, you’re the opposite. Yours in combat focus. When the Ninja Monkey’s need a lot of backup, it’ll be you. You come when called, and appropriately so, you’re Clan Dragonzord, though I can see you don’t get the reference,” Morgan said disapprovingly. “Look it up. Your Clan color is green, by the way, but all of you are going to have black as your secondary color, because you are part and parcel of the Ninja Monkeys, but you’re also separate. This is something new we’re doing, and I need the five of you to make it work.”

“Ninja Monkey troops will clear out all the necessary systems. Your focus now is to build and get these greenies into working shape. They’re not going to be up to our standards anytime soon, so you’re going to have to develop your own Clan standards, inferior as they are, while I keep my Clan in righteous trimness. You don’t get in the way or crimp our style, but you add to our strength by forming associated entities. Distance is kept, and when individuals merit Ninja Monkey status they come over to us unless you can convince them to stick around. You are feeder Clans, but you’re not benchwarmers. You have to be ready and able to fight if the fight comes to you, or if there are too many enemies for the Ninja Monkeys alone to handle.”

“You’re going to make our Clan bigger by training these newbs, and at the same time develop into Clans that will someday rival the others. That will take forever…but it’s on the to-do list. You are the supports, Ninja Monkey is the ADC. Any questions?”

“This system?” Andria asked.

“The home base of us all. As we expand, Ninja Monkey systems and worlds will be sprinkled around in defensive alignment and your Clans will fill in the gaps as needed. But note, you are expected to work with each other as you develop specialties. You are not standalones. We’re a team in this. Ninja Monkeys take the lead, but do not think that you’re outsiders or inferior. Well, you’re inferior, but you’re family, and that makes you superior via association.”

Morgan raised a warning finger. “But we do not accept slackers…ever. We’re taking in weaker individuals in order to train them up, but if they’re not motivated you give them the boot. That aspect of the Ninja Monkeys isn’t getting watered down. We’re just slowing the train a bit so a lot more wannabes can grab hold and go along for the ride, but it’s at our pace and if they can’t keep up they get sent back to the ADZ until they train themselves up and have another go at it. No slackers. No babysitting. It will take time for your Clans to develop our edge, but it will happen in time and I need you to make sure of that.”

“We are now 6, but we fight as one. We are officially the Power Pact…and no, that name is not renegotiable. This is where we draw the line,” she said, raising her hands to the air and taking in the whole of the world they stood upon, “and if anyone dare step over it, it has to be like they’re stepping on lava. We are the shield of the ADZ and our fellow Clans are going to mind our flanks, but expect the biggest hit to come squarely at us. If it doesn’t on its own, we’ll taunt it our way, so don’t underestimate what’s coming. If the Crusade lands here, in some ways it’ll be worse than what the Rim Region is facing, and we have to prepare accordingly. So, are you in?”

The Archons glanced at each other then walked into the center of their rubble field, putting a clenched fist in and touching the others, leaving a hole for Morgan’s.

She smiled, but didn’t say anything else as she walked forward and added her own pink armored hand to the other identical ViLords. A shimmering occurred over hers, then soon the others joined in creating a light bending vortex that they then released as one, blowing their hands back and sending out an invisible wave of Jumat energy that blasted back the smaller rubble around them but left the six armored supersoldiers standing exactly where they had been.

And with that, the Power Pact was born.

8

January 25, 3481

Sirius System (ADZ Core)

Orion

Palo Montoya came back into his quarters after yet another training session with his commando unit doing integrated drills and running through two more challenges today after a long morning session of individualized workouts where he’d put in a 10k run followed by sparring drills, weapons work, and agility training…the standard bread and butter of a commando’s sustenance when not engaged in combat duty.

He’d pulled three tours in the lizard war, which wasn’t much considering how long it had lasted. Most of his time had been spent in the Star Force core worlds, providing system defense and backup should other areas require support. A lot of Human troops got cycled through such duties needing the extra training, a ‘respite’ from combat, or time to just veg out while slowly increasing their levels. Aside from some occasional pirate activity, the ADZ core worlds were as quiet as you could get. That was to be expected, and the number of ships and troops they had defending them was part of the reason for that, but it was also the rings upon rings of other systems further out providing insulation for the heart of Star Force that kept it so secure.

And every time the empire expanded the core got safer and safer, but they would not send their defense forces away for more than temporary relief. Right now the Rim Region was where all the action was at, yet so many troops were just sitting in Sirius and the other core systems that some people speculated/complained about them not being used.

Palo had learned a long time ago that this is what it meant to be a commando and part of Star Force’s combat troops in general. Defensive duty was what let others have the freedom to go out to where the fighting was and keep it from working its way back here. Strip away most of the troops, most of the warships, and you left a weakness others could exploit. Keep an insanely strong force holding the home front and nobody was going to mess with it, meaning you could use it as a reliably stable base of operations from which to reach out and exert your will on the rest of the galaxy.

Not even all the Clans had gone out to the Rim Region, with more than half not having anything to do with it. Those that did were kicking ass, as far as the news reports indicated, but the wealth of new territory out there was so wild and in so much trouble some commentators were speculating that Star Force was hoarding its strength to the detriment of others and that worlds like Orion didn’t need the high level of defense that they had, especially in terms of ground troops. How could anyone get past the fleet and the shields to even get in a position to mount a ground assault?

But Palo had seen enough lizard combat to know never to take anything for granted. They were devious bastards and there were still a lot of them out beyond The Line that several Clans and others were holding. His unit was all Human troops, elite in their own right, but not on the level of the Clans. He’d been called out on several short term missions down into Gamma Region over the past century whenever that little extra touch of Human presence was needed to supplement other troops and his being stationed here allowed for that flexibility.

Take them all away out to the Rim Region and there wouldn’t be anyone to call on when unexpected situations occurred.

But he had to admit his lifestyle here was boring in a certain way. Training kept him busy nonstop, but if one didn’t have a liking for it they would burn out real quick. Those people never made commando, but even still there was something annoying about sitting and training while other people were out on the front fighting to save a lot of other people from dying. That’s why he’d volunteered for combat missions before, but never made it a permanent thing. Always cycling back to one of these defensive positions.

Some commandos didn’t want to fight nonstop, day in and day out. They wanted to be saved for the right situation, while other ‘grinders’ wanted combat and nothing else. Those often stayed on the front lines permanently, but rarely ascended through the ranks due to their lack of training time. Fighting slowed your progress because it wasn’t sculpted to give you the necessary stimulus that you needed, and often would wear you down to the point where you lost levels if you got injured or pushed yourself too far.

But Palo had also learned a lot from frontline fighting and was stronger for it, though a balance needed to be maintained if one wanted to slowly climb up the ranks. All commandos dreamed of such a thing, but many were not ready for the demands of the higher level positions and Palo had been one of them. Like others, he’d retreated back to the defensive assignments to catch his breath and train some more, then he’d test himself again when he felt ready with another combat assignment. It’d taken him some 350 years before he’d finally got himself kicked into higher gear and now he was eagerly wanting not only combat, but to join a Clan…which was why he was here in Sirius, training nonstop to improve his skills to the point where he would make the entry requirements for one of the small, elite factions.

He was getting close to the minimal requirements for 2 of them, but they never stayed the same, for every now and then there would be a change. A tweaking of the requirements here or there in some particular subdivision per what one Clan needed at that time, then they’d raise requirements again once they’d got their quota. None of them had lowered down to the level Palo was at, but he kept checking the notice boards constantly hoping to find one and register his request before the slots filled.

He was already in the filing system with a ‘Clan desired’ marker on his profile so that anyone searching the database would know that was where he wanted to go, but he hadn’t marked any specific Clan. Just Clan in general, meaning that any of the 100 Clans would do, but he still hadn’t quite gotten his skill set high enough to match any of the current base templates.

So when he sat down at his quarter’s terminal after taking a shower, he was shocked when he had a notification message from one stating that he had been transferred into their ranks.

“What the hell?” he asked, seeing the name. “Clan Ultrazord?”

He did a double take and checked the system, seeing that the list of Clans no longer numbered 100, but now 105.

“When did that happen?” he asked, pulling up the information on the new Clans and seeing that they were all being founded by members of the Ninja Monkeys. In fact, these new Clans were part of something called the ‘Power Pact’ that linked them to the Ninja Monkeys.

Palo read on further, seeing that these were new creations linked to an expansion of Star Force territory beyond The Line. The Ninja Monkeys, the most experienced of all the Clans when it came to frontline combat, were expanding…but they weren’t watering down their own standards to do it. Palo had come nowhere close to making it into their ranks, but they were spawning new Clans that he’d made it into somehow…

He pulled up the standing requirements for Clan Ultrazord and what he saw surprised him. His comprehensive level was still too low, but there was a special category reserved for those with a sharpshooter rating of 16 or better. That was his second best itemization in his codex, but typically Clan requirements dictated groupings of skill levels rather than just picking out key ones. For whatever the reason this new Clan wanted him for his accuracy with firearms, and he wasn’t going to argue the point.

He felt like cheering, but the energy inside him couldn’t get out. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, so he continued to read up on all the press releases and commentary. A lot of people were also shocked at what was happening, but they had very little from trailblazer Morgan explaining it, so they speculated to no end and Palo listened to what they had to say until he finally decided that this was, in fact, happening and he wasn’t imagining it.

His transfer order was already logged, which meant he was an Ultrazord now. He could bow out if he wanted, but since he’d marked his file previously that was taken to mean he automatically accepted. And to that end he had orders to report to a newly added system to Star Force territory out beyond the old Line, which apparently was recently taken from the lizards and now renamed the Zordon System.

“Wow,” he finally said, then cautioned himself. If this was a Ninja Monkey expansion, then it was going to be damn difficult. If he wasn’t ready for this he’d get booted out quicker than water would evaporate in the desert. Was he ready this time?

Palo gave himself a thorough self-assessment and nodded with a sense of confidence. He was ready to go all in. The old him wasn’t. He might have been eager, but there was no way he could hold up to the day after day after day sledgehammer of intense training that the Clans were reputed for back then, though now as different. He was stronger and knew what was coming…even if he didn’t know what was coming. He was going to have to become a grinder, and he’d been experimenting with his own training here to see if he had what it took.

He had a chance. That was as far as he’d go. He knew he was going to have to adapt and grow in order to stay in this new Clan, but he was ready to face the challenge and see if he was good enough. There was no cheating the Clan requirements, and if they said he had the necessary skillset that meant he did…to begin. He’d have to earn his keep in order to stay in the Clan, but as of this moment he was Clan, and that was something he’d been working towards for a very long time.

Yet it was a brand new Clan with no history or stats to study…and he’d be one of the founding members it seemed. That was something that blew his mind, but if it was a branching off of the Ninja Monkeys he doubted there was going to be much of a learning curve involved. In fact, he expected them to know exactly what they wanted and how to get it when he arrived, meaning he was just going to have to dive in and go with the flow.

There was nothing else to do here, for his transfer had already been logged, so he jumped out of his seat and quickly packed up a duffle with his few personal belongings. Most of his equipment and clothing was provided on site, so there was only a few mementos and luxury items he’d purchased that he took with him from place to place in addition to his armor. On top of those he added some basic clothing as backup and secured the duffle, swinging the strap over his shoulder as he straightened up his now former quarters a bit. Someone would come in to clean and repurpose them after he left, opening up a slot for another commando of lesser rank in the defense forces on Orion…a position that he had worked hard to achieve long ago, and now that the cycle was seeing him move on he felt almost nostalgic about it.

Palo checked in with a few friends in his unit on the way out, saying some hasty goodbyes, then he walked over to the nearest spaceport and boarded a flight that took him out of the system and headed towards Beta Region.

Palo had to change ships many times with a few layovers in temporary quarters on planets along his path, but eventually he ended up on The Line and in Ninja Monkey territory, then he was loaded onto a military jumpship that was part of a convoy being escorted out to the new Zordon System through existing lizard-held territory.

That wasn’t too surprising, since the lizards didn’t really have any way to stop them, but it still felt exhilarating and typical Ninja Monkey. Their reputation was one for daring to go where no one else would, and when he arrived over the planet named Alpha he got that sense in a very unexpected way.

There wasn’t a colony here, but rather a war zone. The planet was shattered…or the lizard structures anyway. It felt like Palo was back on the front again, here to drop down and hunt survivors buried underground or hiding in the rubble. He hadn’t expected this mess when assigned here, for there should have been a cleanup crew working to recycle the…

Then he saw them as the jumpship’s orbit came around. There was a cleanup crew here eating away at the ruined cities bit by bit, and just beyond it he saw the first sign of Star Force infrastructure. Or rather 6 bits. There were 6 new colonies here, and using the battlemap data on the screen he was watching from he saw that each belonged to a different Clan. Ninja Monkey and the five new ones it had spawned. This was apparently the epicenter of their endeavors and, seeming so fitting, the Ninja Monkeys weren’t wasting any time waiting for the reclamation of the planet to finish. They were setting up shop while some of the ruins were still trailing bits of smoke into the upper atmosphere.

“Keep up or be kicked back to the ADZ,” he reminded himself, now getting the very real sense of danger here. Both from the proximity to the lizards and the invisible wall of failure chasing him. He didn’t know what he’d have to do here, but if he didn’t meet up to their expectations or their timetable for improvement that wall would catch up to him like a predator and strike him down. He had to keep moving, keep improving, keep learning in order to stay ahead of it.

That was what a lot of former Clansmen had described it as, both those that washed out and those that made it. Once he got strong enough and far enough ahead of that wall he could relax a bit, but he could never stop. If a commando stopped improving they’d be put on notice and flagged as needing assistance, for just maintain the status quo wasn’t permissible in the Clans. If you weren’t improving then something was wrong with you, and you’d either correct the problem or be booted out. Either way you’d be pulled off normal duty, so even if Palo made it into the established ranks of this new Clan he could never stop moving forward.

And that was part of the appeal of the Clans. There was no stagnation here. No rest. No reward. No civilians. Everyone here was on a mission and wired for high output.

Right now he just hoped that he could measure up, for he knew most of his skillset did not match the others that had been recruited. He had one ace in the hole…his sharpshooter rating…and he didn’t know why it was important to the Ultrazords, but it made him feel inadequate but given a chance none the less. Now he just had to figure out what it was he was supposed to do.

As the dropships began to release from the jumpships parked in orbit he finally got his own boarding orders. Leaving his quarters neat and tidy, he grabbed his duffle and found his way to his assigned hangar bay and ship, getting onboard with a lot of other commandos. None of them were in armor, and he had his tucked away in his duffle as he assumed they did. All of them boarded without chitchat, taking their seats and sitting their personal cargo either on their laps or on the floor beneath their feet.

The dropship just got partway out of the jumpship when a holographic image appeared in the air at the front of the passenger compartment.

“Recruits,” the image of their Clan founder Cressie-10001 said. “Your indoctrination into Clan Ultrazord will begin in a few moments. Leave your personal belongings where they are and proceed to the exits.”

Palo exchanged glances with those around him, but they looked as confused as he did as they all got to their feet leaving their duffles in or near their seats as they shuffled out into the walkways and lined up in front of a closed boarding ramp and side ramp, with Palo in the line for the former. They waited there without further word for many long minutes until the hologram reappeared.

“Your orders are simple. Jump…survive…and find your way to base. Good luck.”

The boarding ramp hatch opened and a gust of wind hit them, signaling that they were already in the planetary atmosphere. The start of the line moved out, disappearing from view and heading where Palo didn’t know. When he got near the head of the line he saw that they were jumping off and falling down below view, and he only got a brief glimpse before he too leapt off and fell down to the ground several meters below as the dropship coasted forward, leaving a line of its occupants on the dirty, wet soil below.

Then when all occupants were offloaded the dropship took off back into the sky, leaving them behind with no gear and no further instructions.

9

April 2, 3483

Zerus System (Alpha Region)

Char

Arch Duke Karthen paced around a large holographic map in his office on the Bsidd homeworld, the windows blacked out so he could focus entirely on the subject matter at hand and not get distracted with the busy cityscape around him. Like Davis’s office on Earth, Karthen’s was atop a Bsidd spire in the heart of their densest city, giving him a chance to look out on everything from a bird’s perch of a vantage point, but that wasn’t needed now.

What he was looking at was a map made up largely of the ADZ and surrounding regions with every Bsidd system highlighted in purple. Other Star Force systems were blue, allies green, and neutrals yellow with the mass of uninhabited systems appearing grey while the lizard border and a few other places glowed hostile red.

But it was the grey that dominated the occupation zone and was sprinkled throughout the ADZ. Even after all this time spent colonizing what otherwise would have been useless planets to allow for population expansion there, empty worlds still remained. Some were so hazardous to pose a challenge for colonization, others were simply too small or hadn’t been gotten around to, and yet still there were systems with no planets in them whatsoever.

Canderous occupied a great number of those systems for Star Force and secured trade routes where their presence was needed, for without a planet to base off of all you could do was place a fleet in holding orbit and continually run supplies out to them. Same thing with a space station that wasn’t self-sufficient, so Canderous went and dominated places like that, filling in the connecting puzzle pieces on the major trade routes and ensuring that every stop from one end to the other had Star Force assets guarding it to ward off pirates or other malcontents, not to mention providing search and rescue for damaged or stranded ships. As bad as it sounded, there were some that simply ran out of fuel because their crews had miscalculated, and if you ended up in an uninhabited system you’d starve to death if someone didn’t stumble across you.

But they weren’t Karthen’s interest today. Most of his Bsidd worlds were located in the outer half of Alpha Region and further rimward into the aptly named ‘Bsidd Region’ that was far less populated. He’d claimed the most valuable worlds there and was responsible for its security along with a great many other tasks. The Bsidd were the backbone of Star Force now, despite the contributions of the Kiritas, who just weren’t quite as good at everything as the Bsidd were.

The Kiritas had their special roles, but the Bsidd did everything and did it well. Having multiple variants to specialize was such an impressive attribute to their race it would be hard for them not to be good at everything, especially when Star Force had altered two variants into new forms for just that purpose. In addition to that the Bsidd were strong for their size and low weight, loyal and decently intelligent. They also worked together as a unit easier than Humans did, but not nearly so good as the Elarioni who had a slight telepathic edge to their coordination. All the Star Force races had some advantages over the others, and it was through the combination of them in very deliberate and delicate ways that Star Force gained its true might.

But the Bsidd had a reproductive advantage greater than even the Kiritas. Only the lizards could reproduce faster, and that was still a point of contention amongst some. Lizards grew from genetic samples that were premade and shipped out like frozen food to be cooked to readiness in short order, but Bsidd reproduced via Queens that could generate an alarming number of eggs in a short period of time.

Karthen had been utilizing that ability to grow the Bsidd as quickly as possible, and even now he was searching for more planets to colonize. Doing so was tricky, because you had to balance between putting too few resources into a world and too many. It was true that a Star Force colony could be started with very few population and grown over time, but it was the speed of growth that mattered as well and Karthen had learned long ago about how much of a logistical commitment was necessary given the conditions of various planets, but it wasn’t an exact science. He had to guess, and if he guessed poorly he’d be wasting time or resources, for running supply convoys was the biggest joke in the galaxy as far as he was concerned.

Interstellar convoys carried so few resources it was laughable when compared to what was needed to develop a world. Almost everything had to be harvested locally, then processed and produced into the supplies one needed because shipping from one star to another was so damn inefficient.

One wouldn’t think so to see the size of the Bsidd cargo fleet. The jumpships they fielded were enormous in and of themselves and able to carry enough foodstuffs to feed an entire planet out in the lesser inhabited regions of the galaxy on Star Force’s borders…but a fully developed Bsidd world could not sustain itself off of cargo runs, and that huge dropship of foodstuffs would make for a nice appetizer at best considering how much food the Bsidd consumed when they sported a population of over 50 billion.

That was the norm for his Bsidd worlds. 50 billion once fully constructed, though there technically was never ‘full’ construction. You could always tear down a 100 story building and put a 200 story one in its place, but the way Karthen worked wasn’t concerned about squeezing the maximum number of people into a square mile. Rather it was about ease of movement and efficiency of production.

That was another thing about the Bsidd. There was very little ‘civilian’ to them. They all wanted to work, so on Bsidd worlds most of the population was contributing to the industrial machine that was providing the parts, ships, foodstuffs, and supplies that were being shipped out to other portions of the empire that badly needed them.

And then there were the troops. The Bsidd made up the bulk of Star Force’s military, numbers wise. They weren’t as good as the Archons, but then again what race was? When a Human fleet went into a large scale battle it was often with 20 Bsidd fleets supporting them. That was common in most theatres, and Karthen had so many fleets deployed in the Rim Region and other places it was hard to keep track of them all.

But he wasn’t their military commander. He was the guy making sure the gigantic machine that was the Bsidd faction continued to function smoothly and had all the resources and backing it needed to accomplish the bazillion missions it handled on a regular basis. Other factions were contributing as well, and some like the Trinx were just too small to really do much yet, though Karthen knew it wouldn’t matter in scope, for as fast as those little guys were growing the Bsidd were expanding much, much faster.

And it was time again to add more worlds to his domain. He could do that within the Bsidd Region, but there were far more valuable locations within the occupation zone that he had his pick from…the question was where to expand and how many to claim. Resources devoted to adding more worlds meant resources taken away from the warfronts…and vice versa. There was no perfect formula to follow. He simply had to follow his gut instinct, and right now he was taking the whole of Bsidd holdings into view in order to try and feel out where to add a few more purple dots on the map.

He was but one of only a handful of Humans on Char, with most of the higher positions having been relegated to the Bsidd themselves once sufficiently experienced candidates became available. The Human administrators then moved on to other assignments within the empire, but Karthen’s job was one that none of the Bsidd could handle…for it was a challenge even for him, and he had a vast amount of experience that they did not. That said, without pulling on their skills and abilities he could never make this juggernaut function. He led, but they did the work, and there was a lot of administrative duties that they expertly carried out for him so he could keep an eye on the big picture and troubleshoot.

And that was what he was doing now. Focusing on the big picture. With the bad news of a potential Skarron Crusade coming their way he had some hard choices to make. He needed more supplies, but in order to get more he had to spend them on worlds that would slowly develop into exporters…but the Rim Region needed as much as they could get, and despite the inefficiencies and travel lag involved with getting them there, a single Bsidd cargo convoy could mean the life or death for a number of systems that were teetering on the edge.

But focusing only on the now and not planning for the future would damn far more people, so Karthen had to be cagey. Supplies would continue to flow out to the Rim Region, along with numerous points on The Line and a scattering of locations across the ADZ and even all the way down to the Voku border. Star Force had so many projects ongoing in so many locations that Karthen had convoys headed every which direction…all of which were fed by worlds like Char that produced far more than they consumed, but getting a world to this level took centuries at the minimum.

But did they have centuries to wait before the Skarrons came knocking?

He could start stockpiling reserves now, building up a huge treasure trove of resources and equipment to pull on later, or he could spend those resources to build up more worlds or send them to the front lines…and right now he knew he needed more worlds. The Rim Region was keeping threats at bay on that side of Star Force territory and The Line was doing the same on the other. The flanks had varying threats that his Bsidd and others were monitoring, but Char and the Bsidd Region were in about the safest spot you could get, meaning that he had to use the cover the rest of the empire was giving him and grow as fast as he could.

But that growth always had to be controlled, else the Bsidd would consume themselves with overpopulation. That had never truly been a threat so long as the original Queens knew what they were doing, but it had been the bane for the Kiritas once and that lesson had never been lost on Karthen. Insane numbers required insane skill to manage, or you’d die under the weight of incompetence along with a lot of other people caught up in the downfall. The V’kit’no’sat records had indicated that had happened to so many races over the history of the galaxy that they weren’t all worth recording.

You could fake it only so far, but as a civilization grew and seemed to be on autopilot there was a dangerous undercurrent growing. One that if misdirected would erode the power base until you had nothing more than toothpicks for supports…then when one of them snapped it would come crashing down in horrifying carnage.

But Star Force was too good for that and Karthen’s Bsidd faction had a very strong foundation and a major reason for that was the experience depth. Other races had so much turnover outside of Star Force simply because they did not achieve, or even know of, self-sufficiency. It was beyond sad to see, but a lot of the problems those civilizations suffered from disappeared along with the population turnover as more experienced leaders and workers didn’t make the same mistakes novices did.

And the Bsidd were no longer novices. They were a late addition to Star Force, but they’d grown and developed to a point where they could hold their own against the Calavari, Kiritas, and Axius. The Human faction, key as it was to the continuing prosperity of the empire, was both superior and inferior compared to the Bsidd, and in that it was hard to size up. Sol was the center, and the Bsidd and everyone else knew that, but when it came to numbers the Human faction was tiny. Extremely valuable, but tiny, and the combination of the Bsidd, the Kiritas/Kiritak, and Axius gave Star Force the raw power in resources and population that Humanity alone never could achieve.

If half of the Bsidd dropped dead tomorrow it would be a horrifying loss, but so long as the infrastructure still stood he could replace their numbers rapidly. They’d be inexperienced younglings, but if you were just counting heads he could replace population very fast if needed. The Bsidd maturias only grew as many eggs as needed and could jack up those numbers if resources allowed, so replacing population there wasn’t an issue. You couldn’t cheat the experience losses, but where the Bsidd could replace so many using just a handful of Queens, Humanity did not fare so well.

As fast as some thought Humans reproduced, the truth on a galactic scale was that they were below average. All races with internal reproduction were on the slow side while egg layers saw such a huge advantage in rate and numbers. If Star Force had stayed Human only and turned a cold hand to the other races of the galaxy so long ago, it would not have grown into the behemoth it was now. Even if it had aided other races as allies and neighbors and helped them to survive it wouldn’t have been enough. Humanity wouldn’t be much larger than it was now, and probably smaller taking into account attrition.

No. Davis’s decision to annex other races and rebuild them had seemed to be a huge gamble back in the day, but it had proven to be a stroke of genius and was now the foundation upon which Star Force was built. Had he let the other races do as they please it would have been a disaster, just as if he’d let the nations of Earth persist. All those in Star Force were truly Star Force, and Karthen’s Bsidd were no exception. They were all united in both loyalty and culture. But had it not gone down Davis’s way when others argued against the idea of bringing in other races that would ‘muddy’ the waters, the lizards might very well have won the war and destroyed Humanity.

The power of Star Force now lay primarily in the Bsidd, and it was Karthen’s duty not to only maintain them, but to keep them growing. So after several hours of pacing around the glowing map he selected two new systems in the occupation zone. One was all the way down near The Line while the second was on the other side of the Uriti Preserve. Both had three habitable planets and a multitude of others and that’s what made them so valuable. Shipping between stars was damn expensive, but shipping from planet to planet within a system was far less so.

Point to point on a planet was even better, but when you had a system with only one planet in it and you had a system with 3, you could essentially get rid of all interstellar shipping between those three and replace them with ships just as large but with far smaller gravity drives and weaker shields that didn’t have to stand up against interstellar debris and radiation. Of all the ships that the Bsidd built and flew, insystem transports dominated the charts in terms of numbers and tonnage.

Which was why he had chosen those two systems from the occupation zone when he could have chosen ones within the Bsidd Region that had one or two habitable planets. It didn’t matter that they were farther away, for once he sent a large enough convoy there to get the ball rolling he wouldn’t have to worry about sending more supplies. There’d be personnel transfers to accommodate, and with them would come some more cargo, but the bulk transfer would happen up front and the Bsidd on site would use it to start producing what they needed locally while the stash they had brought sustained them through the developmental process.

But such a thing wasn’t for an administrator to oversee. It would require a Baron, and most of the Monarchs were still Human. Why that was only Davis knew, but Karthen guessed that the experience levels of the other races just weren’t high enough yet to get them that rank, though there were a handful already helming worlds of their own that the Director felt were worthy.

With Davis off in the Rim Region working his magic, orchestrating the home front was something that had been left to him and Vectir, which also meant assigning and reassigning lower level Monarchs. Davis was too far away to handle it, and to be frank too busy, though Karthen would always  keep him informed as to what was going on and Davis could amend those orders if he so chose.

To that end Karthen pulled two Barons from single planet Bsidd systems that had developed well over their tenure and assigned the administrators on site to continue on in their stead until their replacements arrived. Karthen had a few floating Barons that were currently unassigned that he could call on if needed, as well as a lot of administrators capable of stepping in and maintaining what had been built, but expanding upon it was something that really needed a Monarch’s touch, so he sent a message to Davis asking for suitable replacements.

Karthen pressed a button and the panoramic windows of his office returned to transparency and the midday sunlight of Char flowed in, dimming the holographic map as the Bsidd city structures came into view. They were built more or less the same as all other Star Force ones, but these carried a purple tint as did most things Bsidd…and everything here was built larger than normal, making Karthen feel like he was ruling a land of giants.

Last thing he did was log the acquisition of the two systems into Bsidd holdings and sent out the notification through the relay grid so no one else with the proper authority to snag planets would claim them before he got his colonization convoys assembled and on site.

10

September 5, 3489

Grid Point Stargate

Duke Torpe stood onboard the construct that she now was in command of along with a host of races from the Rim Region that had previous experience working on the gigantic stations. They were here to supplement the Star Force personnel that had been studying the constructs at Annsa and Mankla for just this task, but there were nowhere near enough personnel to get the job done yet, so a lot of ‘contract’ workers from newly acquired Star Force races were going to be used given the fact that the H’kar in Annsa had already been stretched out to the other grid points to replace Nexus personnel that had left.

And with the addition of a new construct to Annsa 15 years ago the available qualified staff thinned even further, so more than half of the people under the Duke’s command now had not been maturia trained. That wasn’t something she liked, but it was the nature of the beast that she was about to tackle and something that would rectify itself in time. The construct was of Nexus design and not Star Force technology, thus getting people in here that were comfortable with the machinery was a lingering issue…but at least there were no auxiliary stations to inherit, for this grid point was brand new and would be designed to Star Force specs.

There was a slightly larger star in the starfield around the construct, that belonging to the Tarric 3 System that would be the local access jumppoint to get here. It was located in the occupation zone with three primary Nexus systems nearby…one for the Meintre and the others for the Albos and Gfatt that were also going to start building safe shipyards once the grid point system was linked in, but the Meintre were already here and building ahead of schedule so that once the link was made they could start sending ships en mass through and have somewhere they could start housing their growing refugee population.

Those systems belonged to The Nexus and were not Star Force property, but this construct and the grid point were, and it was Torpe’s responsibility to develop it. Already there had been some inquiries from races and corporations in The Nexus about the possibility of creating infrastructure here and she expected that request list to explode once the connection was made, but right now she was still waiting back for the first probe sent through the link to see if the connection had been calibrated correctly.

There had been 7 sent so far, hopefully received in Annsa with other probes being sent back to test this end of the link. If and when one was successfully received they would be bouncing probes back and forth regularly to check and secure the link so they would be notified if it ever went down. That was necessary, for no communication was possible between the two grid points save for couriers, and if one station suffered a malfunction you’d be sending a string of ships through to their deaths with no end in sight until someone happened to notice and traveled the long way around to tell you or a message was sent through the relay grid that was still not fully operational between the ADZ, the occupation zone, and H’kar territory…let alone out into the Rim Region.

Star Force was constantly working to expand it, but the equipment wasn’t cheap and there were a lot of dots on the map that needed connecting. As it was, the probes that Star Force had designed to be sent through the grid point link would also carry comm packets since they would actually beat the relay grid signals from one end to the other in many cases. The magnetically propelled ships weren’t faster than the transmissions…at least not between this pair of constructs…but this was a straight line shot whereas the relay grid weaved back and forth, adding extra distance for the signals to travel.

Linking comms into Mankla was just one of many duties Stargate was going to have, and a small one at that compared to what Davis had warned her was coming. There hadn’t been an addition to The Nexus’s grid point system in a very long time, and with the loss of at least one other there was going to be a shifting of assets and intense scrutiny of this new opportunity that was predicted to send entrepreneurs flooding through the link once it was opened.

Her job was to make use of it all, and connecting into the ADZ economy was already a stated goal of many within The Nexus. The trip there from Stargate wasn’t short, but it was manageable. To save time on that there was going to be a huge market exchange built here, but if she could get investors to pay for at least part of the infrastructure she was going to. Already there were nearby Kiritak colonies generating an impressive amount of resources to be sold to the nearby Nexus members if they wished, and she was told that the Meintre were already taking advantage of that service, which she was going to direct the investors to.

If they wanted to build stations here they’d be Star Force models sold to them, for she wasn’t going to let any more foreign technology come in here besides that of the construct itself. Aside from logistical and compatibility concerns, Davis had specified that this grid point needed to have a distinctive Star Force feel to it so that visitors would immediately know that this was not The Nexus. The other grid points that Star Force now controlled were inherited, not built, and their conversion was a slow process. Word was already spreading though about how Star Force did business, and Stargate had to take that generated interest and channel it accordingly.

Which was why the Duke was holding off on bringing in any stations. Tarric 3 already had some infrastructure in place, including an Imperator, but Torpe wasn’t building anything here until the link was established…and right now was approximately the time the first probe should be returning. If there was a problem, then troubleshooting was going to take a long time sending couriers back and forth on gravity drives, so there was more than a bit of anxiety going through the construct’s crew and herself.

The two massive discs were powered up and aligned with the distant location of Annsa, but it was up to the probes themselves to find the guiding signal being sent out from them and make micro adjustments so that they hit square on. The big question was whether or not the direction of the magnetic fields was pinpoint precise enough to get them close…or whether they’d be too far askew to self-correct and end up missing the target entirely.

If they did they could hit ships nearby, obliterating each other in less time than it took to blink, or they could sail on past and be lost in the galaxy unable to stop, slowly starving or freezing to death once power ran out…which was why the test probes were unmanned.

The Duke was waiting in the command center onboard the construct, which Star Force had already gutted and reworked with their own tech. That at least gave the crews familiar interfaces to work with here, though the rest of the station was still outfitted with Nexus terminology and symbols. Those would be gradually replaced over time if needed, but Torpe didn’t want to deal with those headaches herself so she’d had the command center changed to her liking.

So it was on a standard Star Force holographic tactical display that she saw the first tiny blip of an object decelerate against the ‘upper’ disc’s magnetic field and come to a stop on the edge…and not too far away from missing entirely.

“Calculate how far we’re off and adjust,” she said relieved, but spotting an irregular final tract that wasn’t entirely the fault of the construct on the other end. “I want the next one spot on.”

“It’ll take approximately 2 hours to readjust,” a H’kar told her.

“Next probe is due in four hours, correct?”

“If Annsa holds to schedule, yes.”

“Hold outgoing probes until the readjustment,” she decided, then retreated to her office on the perimeter of the large room.

They were on the grid now…sloppily…but there was a viable connection. Their own magnetic field had been slightly off, and by slightly it meant the column of acceleration/deceleration potential that reached out from each disc. There was more than enough there to stop the probe from ramming it, but when it’d been launched on the return trip it had not intersected that column as intended. It had come in from the side and bypassed the first part of that field. If a larger ship had done that then a collision might have been possible, but a tiny tweaking would fix it.

Fortunately the amount they were askew wasn’t enough to make their outgoing probes miss. As she pulled up the telemetry logs the probe brought back with it from the other side she saw that it had almost missed but had been able to yank itself back into alignment thanks to the beefy gravity drives the probes also contained. A magnetic carrier would not have been able to in time, but with each probe sent and received they’d get the alignment centered a bit more until they were satisfied on both ends, at which point the traffic would start pouring through.

And there was a lot of it waiting in Annsa. In addition to the telemetry logs, there was a wellspring of data carried by the probe, including some personal messages for her from Duke Lothel and others stationed there. Most notable of all was the battlemap captures of the waiting ships. Hardly any of them were Star Force and there were literally rows upon rows parked nearby the construct waiting for transit to Stargate…so many so that it would take months for them to get rides even once the link was open, for there weren’t that many carriers available despite the shifting resources sent their way.

“Geez,” she said under her breath as she looked at the itemized ship lists. “And I don’t even have a welcome center built.”

It would take more than 2 months to get the final alignments down to the two Dukes’ mutual satisfaction, at which point both declared the links were open for transit. Some of The Nexus ships from the Meintre were waiting here in preparation for passage back rather than hoofing it on gravity drives like they had been doing for several years, but she couldn’t dispatch them because there were no carriers here. They’d have to wait for the first one to come through then book passage going back, and right now those fees weren’t going to Star Force, but rather the owners of each carrier ship.

They then paid a fee to use the grid point system…a fee that the Duke had cut by some 50% from Nexus standard rates. Each grid point chose their own, with the fee paid on the outgoing jump. Since this was a one route grid point it didn’t really matter, for carriers would pay at both ends regardless, but the cheaper you made the fees the more profit there was for the carriers to relocate routes through you.

Annsa had chopped their fees by some 30%, but the rest of the grid points in the Rim Region had kept theirs moderately stable because the local economies were relying on those fees. Since Stargate was just getting started she could set them at whatever she wanted and build up around them, hence the lower price to encourage more travel…which would mean more commerce flowing through here and making the link to the ADZ more advantageous.

And there was a link already established for personnel and assorted cargos. Big ships would have to travel on their own, but in Tarric 3 there was already a starport linked into the Star Force transit grid that had a single line coming out from the ADZ to here. There were a few other wispy connections throughout the occupation zone, the most notable of which were to the Uriti Preserve and to the H’kar, but if a Dvapp wanted to buy a ticket at a Star Force starport in their territory, they could ride the grid all the way out to Tarric 3, and from there take the dedicated ferries that would move through the slow jump from star to construct and back again.

Right now though there was no place for them to land except the giant station, and it wasn’t built for visitors. Her crew could come and go that way, but as of now Tarric 3 was the endpoint for tourists traveling on the transit grid until she got some additional infrastructure set up here to accommodate them.

But if the traffic that was soon to come from Annsa wanted to, they could park in the nearby star system and ride the Star Force infrastructure wherever they wanted to go, or if their ship was small enough dock it inside a carrier jumpship and be whisked away to a whole plethora of new systems for them to visit or trade with.

Torpe had made sure to have that link established before the grid point went online and the people at Annsa knew it as well, so when the first carrier did come through and decelerated almost dead center on the giant mag disc, its ships immediately departed for Tarric 3 while the carrier itself contacted the station to arrange payment and scheduling for their return jump.

On the spur of the moment the Duke decided to give them a free ride, given that they were their first customer, but the second arrived less than 20 minutes later…and after that a rapid fire arrival schedule dumping ship after ship into the grid point, including a huge carrier that was larger than anything she’d been told about.

It carried within its grasp a single ship, with the designator labeling it as belonging to the Albos. The Duke didn’t need to read further to identify its purpose, for the various struts and cargo boxes made its function obvious. It was a mobile construction facility, undoubtedly headed to their new system to get to work building infrastructure…and with the size of this thing, they’d be setting up shop real fast assuming they could get the necessary materiel.

And promptly after it arrived more Albos ships came through, one of which made contact with the station and requested just that. Access to the promised market for raw materials.

And they weren’t the only ones immediately petitioning for this and that, all of which was routed to the Duke’s staff who’d been set up to handle just this sort of situation, though within days it became apparent to Torpe that there was going to be a lot more interest here than even Davis had imagined.

It took only 8 days before she got the first heart wrenching request for sanctuary coming from a beat up ship that looked like it had taken all it could handle just to get this far and probably didn’t have anywhere else to go. They identified themselves as Kleek, having come from a race on the far side of The Nexus that had been pushed off their homeworld by invaders that no one had bothered to stop. The Kleek fleet had moved from one grid point to another asking for sanctuary and being denied, with many ships scattering to find work or to sell what they had to get currency to put down roots somewhere.

This ship had come all the way out here hoping to find a place in Star Force territory because they’d heard that it was safe and that the Human-led empire took in refugees.

Torpe sniffed away some misty eyes as she sent a reply message detailing the coordinates in the nearby Tarric 3 System that they needed to proceed to, at which point they’d be provided with emergency supplies until their situation could be sorted out. She added a welcome to the message, knowing that even that small gesture could make a big difference to people who’d been on the run and brushed aside time and time again, though it was the supplies that were going to make the real difference.

She knew the Kleek were but the first of many refugees coming their way, and that the promise of safety was going to draw them here from all over The Nexus as various wars continued to break out and spread. Fortunately Davis had seen this coming and had a plan in place, so the Duke didn’t have to tell them there was no help here. She could tell them the exact opposite, and the coordinates in the nearby system led to a facility built specifically to handle and sort incoming refugees prior to sending them off into the ADZ or wherever else there was room to take them.

Star Force had a plan in place to weather this catastrophe and pick up the rest of the baggage that The Nexus’s failure would be landing on their doorstep. For good guys just didn’t react to bad things happening on the spur of the moment…they planned and prepped ahead of time so that they’d be able to help the Kleek or anyone else like them when the time came.

It didn’t matter how many warships and troops you had in a situation like this. It was all about logistical power and whether or not you had the foodstuffs to feed the number of people required, the fuel to power their ships and life support, and the medical supplies to save those just hanging on to life that managed to reach you.

Star Force territory was sanctuary, due in large part to its military, but more so due to its logistics. Those behind the scenes mundane, repetitive tasks that most people didn’t pay any attention to. The sort of thing administrators handled without anyone else ever knowing about…until there was a lack of supplies or a power outage, then everyone took notice.

The Archons were the visible leaders of Star Force’s war machine, but the empire knew well that war came in many different fashions, and in truth it was the Monarchs that were the most powerful, waging a war of supplies and infrastructure to combat the starvation, deprivation, and chaos that would now start flowing into Star Force territory en mass from The Nexus…and it was that war that would define Star Force in the coming years more than anything the Archons did.

For those in The Nexus were saying that saving these people was impossible. There were too many, not enough supplies, not enough room to take them in…and they weren’t lying, most of the time. They simply didn’t have the necessary resources to help, whether they wanted to or not.

But like the Archons, the Monarchs had an inclination to tackle challenges that were deemed ‘impossible’ and had already set up multiple planets mostly in the occupation zone to rescue, indoctrinate, and train refugees, then add the individuals into a wing of Axius and the larger groups into a new faction known as ‘Beacon.’

All those in need of help could flee to and be assimilated into Star Force, with the aptly named new faction serving as a redo of the old Alliance Worlds program that was created back during the lizard war…only many lessons had been learned since then, and all refugees being taken in would become part of Star Force rather than tenants who could potentially work against their caretakers as had been seen to happen in the ADZ before.

And at this point, incorporating both individuals and groups into Star Force was a well polished process, so when people badly in need of help came here…if they could make it here…there would be no shoving them off into some corner to wait in line or bide their time.

No. There was a plan in place and an infrastructure conduit through which to send them to the indoctrination facilities that would eventually land them either in Axius or Beacon, meaning that if they could get to Duke Torpe like this ship of Kleek had, then they were at the end of their harrowing journey and coming into the hands of people who were tasked specifically to help and guide them through the assimilation process…and whom would make damn sure no one fell through the cracks once they arrived, no matter how chaotic things became.

All of which made Torpe the Queen of the Watchtower, whose ‘beacon’ would be drawing many people here. If they could arrive they’d be bathed under Star Force’s healing and cleansing light, metaphorically speaking, and they’d be insulated from the chaos behind them.

That wasn’t what she’d written, but that was what the rumor mill eventually churned out and spread back through the grid point network and throughout The Nexus, and it was her name that was attached to the mythos.

Get to Duke Torpe and all would be well.

And that reputation and lore would drive more and more people to Stargate, both those in need and those trying to get out ahead of the looming disaster before they became refugees themselves.

Paladin

1

April 19, 3493

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Asteroid Belt 16

Myra-400118 stood onboard the single Star Force warship she commanded, looking out via the command nexus at the asteroids around her and the nearby planet that cut out the clear tunnel between overlapping belts 15 and 16. On it was over half a trillion Vittis, a race that no one cared about in times like these. They weren’t technologically advanced or skilled in much at all, but they did have some trade going with neighboring systems that had spread the word of the world’s dying.

This one wasn’t a Nexus member and didn’t even appear in The Nexus’s records, sketchy as they were where the ‘unimportant’ came into play. Unlike most of the other conflicts breaking out across the Rim Region this one was internal. They weren’t being invaded from space, but rather from below ground. A dangerous race of primitive insects had always lived on and within the planet and the Vittis had dealt with them as wild animals in most cases, but aside from an occasional outbreak there was no real concern because their numbers were so small…even while their bodies were large. Larger than the Vittis, anyway, which came up to about Myra’s knee and were mostly fur at that.

The ‘reavers’ were dog sized and ugly as hell, based on the few pictures they’d gotten back from a scouting mission. A ranger had been sent to follow up on the rumors and had sent a report indicating an extinction level event for the planet was in the making. The reavers were actually not small numbered, but rather lived deep underground where no one could find them. Legend said that every cycle, which amounted to some thousands of years, they would return to the surface and kill everything in sight…which is exactly what was happening.

None of their neighbors were interested in helping and the major powers within the sub region were too busy with keeping their own asses intact to even care, but this was now Clan Star Fox’s domain and they did, which was why Myra had been sent to do what she could to save them. An evacuation would have been the preferred option, but there were far too many Vittis to take away. As it was, all she’d been given for this assignment was one fully outfitted Warship-class jumpship and one Paladin cruiser.

That was it. Two ships to deal with a planet-wide catastrophe. That’s how stretched Star Force was right now, and there was a long list of people that they weren’t able to help at all. Myra’s being assigned here hadn’t been requested by the Vitti or anyone else, for Star Force had simply seen the need and thought there was a chance to save at least some of the Vittis without pulling thousands of ships off of other duties to either evacuate them or kill the reavers.

Unfortunately killing was the only viable option, for the scout had indicated that mental contact with them was useless. They had a hive mind, literally, for they were telepathic. And while you could take control of an individual reaver’s mind there was no way to reason with it, for as soon as you released your hold the hive mind would reassert itself.

The report indicated that there was suspected higher level reaver units that partially controlled the others, but speculated that they would be unable to be used to call the others off permanently. Instinctual drives were partially responsible for their bloodthirstiness, with the hive mind bonding them together and guiding them. It was almost as if these things had been created as a weapon and unleashed, but there was no one else on the planet intelligent enough to even speak aside from the Vittis.

What technology they did have was allowing them to survive for a while, but they were losing territory and people at a steady rate. Right now it was rumored that the planet was doomed and those rumors had drawn scavengers. Pirates and other scum that were even now sitting in orbit and sending down raiding parties to steal whatever they could from the Vittis while they were preoccupied fighting to save their lives.

And it was their ships in orbit that Myra was studying closely now. Because of the dense asteroids spread across this system…with far more mass than all the planets combined…one couldn’t make a direct jump to where you wanted to go. You either had to slowly work your way through each field or make a jump out above them, for they were thankfully situated in orbital rings that had about the same inclination.

If you jumped above them, you’d have to stop and redirect back down. Without a binary gravity drive you really didn’t want to be in this system, but that’s where the Vittis were and they didn’t have the technology to leave on their own. What ships they did use to mine the asteroids were all but gone, having been stolen by the pirates or scattered around in pieces where their defense fleet had been destroyed.

It looked like they’d put up a good fight but had been overwhelmed. By who Myra didn’t know or care, for her primary concern was the reavers on the surface. They didn’t have technology at all, and it was infuriating her that these lowlifes would be backstabbing the Vittis when they needed everything they had just to try and fortify themselves against the reaver swarms.

With a thought she began tagging ships and directing her Captain to begin launching the drone fleet. She hadn’t expected to need them for orbital action, given that this was going to be a ground campaign, but the presence of the pirates hadn’t been anticipated. Her analysts were pulling a fair amount of information about what they were doing down there from errant signals coming from the planet and their own ships’ sensors, and since they had to take their time navigating through the thinner band of asteroids that covered the ‘top’ of the world, they weren’t getting a full count until they got in close.

104 ships in total, four of which looked like full scale jumpships and a few others that might have been hybrids. It had to have taken them forever to get out here through the asteroids, even if they’d come the top route like the Star Foxes just had, for the belts themselves were so thick vertically speaking that you couldn’t get a direct jumpline through even with Star Force’s enhanced sensors.

What was it they wanted so bad to go to the effort? Or were even the pirates so desperate out here as to go after the smallest bread crumb rumored to be available?

She wanted to ask them herself, but taking prisoners wasn’t exactly something her two ship fleet was equipped for…then again, when you came into a situation like this you had to improvise.

“Captain, the naval combat is yours. Get me onboard one of their jumpships. The rest I don’t care about.”

“How intact do you want it?”

“Be as surgical as you can.”

“Dropship insertion?”

“Yes. I’ll be armored up and in the hangar before you can engage. If they run, let the others go, but make it clear that they’re not welcome here.”

“What’s your interest in the jumpship?”

“I don’t want to have to babysit any of their men we take on the surface…plus I want some intel recovered.”

“Tech team going with?”

“Save it for after. We don’t know what these guys are like. I’ll personally lock it down and signal you when it’s clear.”

“You, or you and a combat team?”

“Team. I need to roam and engage while at least someone watches the ship.”

“How many?”

“I’ll arrange it. Just take care of those ships.”

“Consider it done.”

Myra disconnected from the nexus and took off jogging through the short tunnel that led to the bridge. She passed by the man she’d just been talking to along with the rest of the command crew, then headed through the innards of the not so small ship, picking up her armor and her boarding team while she left naval concerns to the Captain. The titan ended up standing in her golden armor in the entrance to the dropship looking back out into the hangar as Tia-755393 and John-755399 approached, one in dark blue mage armor and the other in padawan brown.

Both had graduated basic in the same class, but John had leveled up much faster. He’d made mage before Tia made padawan, so when it came time for her to need a master it’d been a no brainer and the two had hooked up again with Myra being glad to have both of them with her. Assignments such as this were supposed to be 1 Archon only affairs, but given the high population levels of this planet she’d been assigned the extra pair while the rest of her combat troops were a mix of Knights and Commandos.

“I thought you’d brought us along to squish bugs,” Tia commented as the two Archons walked up the ramp.

“Mostly. Found a few other baddies in orbit we need to deal with. You don’t mind?”

“Never,” she said with such high energy that her smile all but transmitted through her opaque faceplate.

“Are we keeping these?” John asked as he came up and stood beside Myra as the Regulars started to arrive behind them.

“I think they’ll run, but I want one jumpship to use as a prison for the ones on the ground.”

“Why the mixed weaponry then?” Tia asked, referencing the only partial stun weapons loadout she’d told them to grab from the armory.

“These are opportunistic scum and we’re not going to be overly nice about kicking them out, but we do need some of them alive to fly the ship out of here if we want to go that route.”

“First call, kill or stun?” John asked for clarification.

“Judgement call if it shoots back, otherwise knock them out.”

Tia pulled out a pair of stun pistols from her back rack and twirled them around, limbering up her wrists. “I like bonus points.”

“These are completely unknown baddies, so be careful what and when you shoot,” Myra said aloud, for both the Archons and the assembling Regulars. “I’ll head in first and troubleshoot. You follow and bag the crew. One guard on the ship, one venator in support. Everyone else doing sweeps, engage as necessary. Stun preferred, but if they get too persistent take them down hard. Comm intercepts say they’re looting the planet and killing anyone that gets in their way. We’re going to be a little nicer than that, but not too much. I want the ship. The crew are,” she said, glancing in Tia’s direction, “bonus points.”

One last pair of Commandos ran in as she finished and the Knight next to her leading the group signaled their count was complete.

“All present, Archon.”

With a telepathic flip of a switch Myra started pulling up the boarding ramp.

“Pilot, we’re good to go. Confirm with the Captain for departure. We’re all yours.”

“Copy that,” the pilot replied over helmet comms as the assault team lingered in the hold of the Falcon-class dropship, one of the few pieces of Star Force tech design that actually outdated her within the empire, though both of them had undergone considerable upgrades over the years.

Myra watched the naval combat unfold via her helmet battlemap, then when they had their opening the dropship accelerated out of the hangar and took up position behind a waiting Corvette-class drone and followed their blocker closely until they were right up on top of the wounded pirate jumpship with a hole blown into their own version of a hangar door. An energy shield was covering it, but when the corvette swung around to now cover the rear approach the dropship rammed into the shield and punched through using an alternate shield setting of its own that would breach primitive shields without destroying them.

The silver ship slid through and into the internal atmosphere as if there had been nothing blocking its way at all, then landed on a mostly empty deck save for a few small ships and fighters that hadn’t been down on the planet doing naughty things.

Myra was first out the lowering ramp, but only a few steps into the hangar and she skidded to a halt.

“Shit.”

“What?” John asked from behind his rifle barrel at the top of the ramp behind her.

“No oxygen. It’s a methane-based atmosphere.”

“I thought the planet was oxygen-based,” Tia added.

“It is. These guys must be using…” she said, trailing off. “Stay here.”

Myra ran over to one of the nearby enemy ships, using her backup oxygen supply that would only last a matter of minutes. Using her psionics she pried open the first door she came to and went inside. It was empty and waiting for new cargo, apparently, so she left and went over to the next one, and the next, until she finally found what she was looking for. A small cargo ship full of pressurized canisters.

“These guys are going Grunt down there,” she said on her team comm.

“Contacts,” John noted.

Myra ran out of the ship and onto the hangar deck, getting there a few seconds late as an array of what looked like lachar blasts were harmlessly hitting the dropship’s superior shields as John and a Commando stepped out through the specialized barrier covering the entrance and opened fire. They took hits, but their own shields held up. Not ever having seen an Archon before the enemy apparently didn’t know what to make of them and stupidly pushed forward firing with their own forearm-mounted weapons as they took hit after hit with stun blasts, dropping their scarecrow-like bodies to the ground with single shots.

Myra came at them from the side, opening fire herself with a stun pistol and running directly into the group of upwards of 40 or so that were still pouring into the hangar. She summoned up a Fornax field and detonated it in their midst…but to her shock it didn’t affect them and she found herself punching and kicking them down. They were as weak as they looked, but she didn’t feel any bones breaking on impact. Instead they bent like rubber and flopped to the deck with single hits…though the last part of that wasn’t unexpected given her titan-level strength.

Once through the group she stomped her heels down and reversed direction, throwing a Jumat blast into those still coming into the hangar and knocking everyone still standing aside like grass clippings blowing in the wind. As they got up the rest of her team shot them down again until there were no more coming.

With a glance at her HUD she checked her oxygen gage, having a few minutes left before she needed to recharge in the ship. Wanting to know why her Fornax hadn’t worked, she mentally connected to one of them and searched its mind…only to find it wasn’t fully there.

Another shot flashed beside her as a Commando shot one of the scarecrows that had inexplicably started to get back up again.

“Stay down,” he said, but then others began getting up as well, eliciting more stun blasts to put them back on the deck.

A quick scan of Myra’s guy with Pefbar cleared up the mystery and she bit back a curse.

“Cyborgs. The stuns won’t keep them out and my Fornax completely missed. Disarm them and shove them in a corner for now.”

“Use one of their ships,” John suggested, and Myra nodded. The other Archon took charge of the collection effort while Myra worked on her guy, trying to see how much information she could pull from the biological parts of its mind, but there was little here at all. In fact, its mind was almost entirely made up of computerized components.

“Damn,” she whispered. This guy wasn’t really a guy anymore, maybe had never been. She wasn’t sure if she was looking at a highly modified person or a biologically augmented robot. Was this the crew or a defense for the real crew? She needed answers, but didn’t have the time to go wandering around the big ship looking for them on backup oxygen.

“Myra, these guys…”

“I know. Keep them contained for now. I’m going to have to do some exploring to figure this out.”

“Second dropship?”

“Have to. I can’t hold my breath that long.”

“We can start making mapping runs on backups.”

“I want to know if this is the crew or not.”

“Drones?” John asked.

“I honestly can’t tell. What do you make of them?”

“Weird.”

“Gee, that helps loads.”

“If we can’t keep them stunned we’re going to have to babysit.”

“I know,” she groaned. “Just standby.”

“Mind if I go sploring?” Tia asked.

“Go ahead, but don’t rely on your Hanme.”

“Can’t. He hasn’t given it to me yet,” she said, but added before Myra could nix her scouting, “I’ll keep a 1 minute cushion, promise.”

“John?”

“I’ll keep her on a leash.”

“Ok, see what you can find,” Myra said, switching comms. “Captain, we’ve got a situation here. Methane atmosphere and stun resistant cyborgs. I need oxygen packs sent over immediately…and probably should throw in some physical binders while you’re at it. A lot of them. These guys are flexible as hell.”

“Do you need backup?”

“No, they’re cupcakes too. The oxygen is the only thing holding us up.”

“On its way. The pirates aren’t responding to comms and are running for the asteroids hoping to lose us. How long do you want me to pursue?”

“Just get them out of planetary orbit. If they’re dumb enough to stick around we’ll deal with them later, but I don’t want them getting even the slightest chance of reinforcing the planet, so keep them at extreme range.”

“We have two crippled ships, not counting the one you’re in.”

“How bad?”

“Big holes in both. Loss of atmosphere.”

“Set up a dropship with the atmospheric content I’m sending you then get a search party over there. I doubt you’ll find anything, but try anyway. Send some techs too and tell them to grab anything of interest, hardware or software.”

“Cyborg means your telepathy won’t work?” the Captain asked.

“It should partially, but these guys don’t have much brain left. If you find some corpses, bring them back for study too.”

“None where you’re at?”

“We started off playing nice, so no, none yet.”

“Understood. I’ll take care of it. Oxygen should be there within 25 minutes.”

“Copy that,” Myra said, cutting the comm and examining her scarecrow again as it woke. She held it in place telekinetically and looked into its creepy red eyes, trying to glean some information about it using her range of psionics. Though if she didn’t know better, it might have been designed to prevent that very thing.

2

When the second dropship arrived Myra and the others got the additional oxygen tanks loaded onto their armor underneath their weapons racks and began clearing out the ship. Stun weapons were used since these guys were such pushovers, but they had to be tied up at the hands, ankles, and shoulders around the arms to keep them from working their way out. Their bodies were so pliable that they could squeeze out of traditional restraints, so multiple ones were used with a few babysitters to go around and reapply them whenever one got its hands or feet free.

None of them spoke, which was beyond odd. They literally felt like zombies, especially when viewing them with psionics. It wasn’t until Myra got halfway through the jumpship that she finally sensed a whole mind…actually, a cluster of whole minds confined to one area of the ship. She detached herself from the methodical sweeping teams and fought her way there, having to do little more than run past the scarecrows and telekinetically yank the weapons out of their hands…at which point one of them smashed its hand together to form a knife-like blade that bounced off her armor’s shields when she let it hit.

She put a hand in its face and shoved it back into a wall, then kept moving on following the mental signatures she was detecting. There were so many scarecrows onboard it felt like too much, especially considering that there was supposed to be pirates down on the surface having come from the ship, and the closer she got to the full minds the more the odd aliens got in her way to try and block her path.

Myra disarmed them easily, though the sheer number of weapons they were bringing to bear could have whittled her shields away with time. They weren’t not dangerous, but Star Force tech had come so far it almost made it seem so when going up against lachars and similar tech. Had she not been so equipped though, these guys would have been incredibly terrifying.

She bowled over the last cluster with a Jumat blast then forced open the doors they were protecting. Once inside there were no more scarecrows, only empty corridors, but she could sense people moving around and staying away from her. A quick check of their minds at this closer range confirmed that they were scared and hiding. Too bad for them that they couldn’t do that with an Archon onboard.

Myra went to the closest ones and found a group of 3 holed up in a small room behind a locked door. Her Pefbar told here they were waiting there with their own weapons drawn, probably because of the sounds of the scarecrows still shooting at her. She knocked down a few more and stunned them to keep them quiet for a little bit, then punched through the flimsy door in front of her. Her armored hand took a few shots as it curled down then pulled, crumpling and yanking the entire door off its hinges.

She tossed it into more scarecrows coming at her as she used a Fornax blast to disable the three rhino-like bipeds before her. Two of them dropped their weapons in the process and she yanked the third clear. Doing a quick mental search for a familiar language, she held them in place telekinetically until one of them finally spoke in words she couldn’t understand…then the other two started jabbering, with what she translated to be a variety of insults and swearing based on their mental states.

With a thought she knocked all three unconscious, then turned around and shot a few more scarecrows.

“I’ve found a second set of crew. These are not cyborgs and are napping nicely. I need a retrieval team over here and techs as soon as possible to pull language files. Hopefully these guys know something we’re familiar with.”

“Are they just as ugly?” Tia asked over the comm.

“Not that bad, but they’re mean sons of bitches. We need to get them wrapped up and get down to the planet.”

“And the scarecrows?”

“When the techs get here have them rebuild a room as a pen and just shove them in.”

“They’ve got knife hands too.”

“So I saw. Unless they can cut through walls I don’t think we need to do more than that.”

“We’ll get it done. How many other guys are there?”

“Still bagging. I’ll let you know,” Myra said, knocking a few more scarecrows down as she left the three sleepers where they lay and headed for the next closest group.

Myra didn’t wait long for the techs to get to work. As soon as the ship was secure she left with most of the assault team and headed straight down to the planet along with another two dropships worth of combat personnel. Each was headed for a different location the pirates had landed in, knowing that the longer they delayed the more damage these guys were going to do. Orders were given to shoot to kill anyone caught misbehaving and to capture all others, but when her dropship came over a pirate landing site she saw that the situation wasn’t going to be one for stunners.

There was a long trail of dead Vittis and signs of scarecrows roaming the streets in packs while Myra caught sight of one of the rhinos leading another. More were carrying bounty back to their grounded ships, though one had seen them incoming and was taking off in a hurry.

“Fly close to that one,” she ordered the pilot from the cockpit as she watched the vid screens along with him. “We’re taking it down.”

“With what?” he asked. “Or do you want me to ram it?”

“I’ll disable the pilot, just get me close.”

“If you say so,” he said, altering their descent to chase after it, which wasn’t hard considering the superior engine power the Star Force dropship had. When they got within half a mile the enemy ship suddenly stopped accelerating and took a nose dive towards the buildings below…then leveled off and began to circle around.

“Got him,” Myra confirmed. “Flank them back to the drop zone and get me a little closer. This is hard enough with new minds, let alone the range.”

“Impressive, Archon. Very impressive.”

She didn’t respond, focusing on her tenuous link to the pilot and keeping his compatriots from interfering with him. When the ship eventually returned to its original landing zone she ordered the Commandos with her over to it while she walked behind them maintaining her suppressive link until they broke in and secured the ship. When they reached the cockpit she rendered the crew there unconscious then ordered them to be taken prisoner while she turned away from the ship and headed off into the city in search of bad guys to kill.

There was gore everywhere, and this location on the planet hadn’t seen reaver activity yet, meaning the pirates had done all this. Bodies were strewn about along with trashed equipment and buildings. It looked like these guys weren’t just here to pillage the natives…they were having fun with it too, and the death screams of several more people registered to Myra’s senses when she extended them out as far as possible. That told her where to go and the Archon took off running at insane speed without bothering to get backup.

The first scarecrow she crossed got blasted in its chest, burning a hole clear through, but it didn’t drop to the ground. Rather it turned around and tried to lift its weapon towards her, but its arm didn’t have enough strength and it could only get it halfway up. A second shot to its head killed it as Myra ran into the group it was with and tore them to bits with a series of pointblank shots and physical blows. Flexible as they were, they did not have much structural integrity and she found out quickly that their heads were the weak spots. A good punch there would crush their mechanical brains and knock them out quickly, whereas hits elsewhere would damage or stretch them, but otherwise keep them alive and fighting.

Myra didn’t linger with this group, dispatching them as quickly as possible so they couldn’t kill anyone else, then she headed straight for where the death screams had been coming from. She fought through two more roaming groups of scarecrows before she got to them, then came head on into a plaza with over a hundred of the things and several rhinos that had taken a bunch of Vittis prisoner…and were ripping off limbs one by one in some sort of sick game.

With her ire flaring, Myra sprinted towards them and shot the one that had a Vitti in its grasp directly in the head. The armless Vitti dropped to the ground bleeding heavily as the scarecrows all turned on her and fired, but they weren’t going to stop her. She went straight for the other rhinos and killed each of them quickly and efficiently…even the pair that dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. After what they’d done, she wasn’t going to accept one.

Once the leaders were killed she dealt with the scarecrows, having to work fairly hard to headshot them, otherwise it’d take 10 or more plasma blasts to kill one and she didn’t intend to leave any of them to suffer like the Vitti were.

Tossing her weapon aside, she knelt next to the armless Vitti as it was still screaming and numbed out its pain with a quick mental link, then she detached her right glove so that her hand was shown bare to the air. Reaching down she touched the Vitti and used her Haemra to try and save the little guy, difficult as that was on unfamiliar races. The other Vittis that had been captured and were waiting to be torn apart had scattered when she took out the scarecrows, but some were tentatively creeping back in towards her. They didn’t want to leave the wounded one behind and some of them were trying to pick up the huge scarecrow weapons and aim them at her.

“I am not your enemy,” she said, using the translation program developed from the scout’s reconnaissance intel. “I am trying to save this one.”

The little fuzz balls twitched with their blue noses sniffing like a rabbit, but they didn’t drop their weapons. Myra ignored them, focusing her full efforts on stopping the bleeding and saving this one’s life, even though it had had one of its four legs pulled completely off and that had dislodged other bones inside its now mangled body. She was trying to push it back together using her Pefbar/Lachka then heal it enough to hold together on its own with her Haemra, all the while keeping the little guy numbed up so he wouldn’t feel what she was doing to him…and what had been done to him.

On top of that he was in shock and she had a city with more pirates to kill, but she wasn’t going to abandon this guy. That might mean others died when she could have saved them by getting there faster, and she hated that, but leaving this one to die when she was already here was just wrong, so she was going to do what she could.

“Captain, get a dropship with medical personnel down here now. We’ve got a mess of Vittis that need assistance.”

“To your present location?”

“Might as well start here.”

“Dispatching now.”

Myra continued to work on the little guy, ignoring the body parts lying around her from those that were already dead. She wasn’t going to let this guy join them, but she knew if she let go of him he’d slip away. The Archon was having to take control of so much of his bodily functions that he couldn’t sustain himself. Not yet, anyway. And the lack of blood in his body was hampering efforts considerably.

“Ah hell,” she said, telekinetically removing her other glove and dipping her fingertips into a pool of blood on the ground. She used a gross application of Haemra she’d learned a while back and pulled the blood cells up onto her hand and held them there, forming a sphere that she then moved over and held against the Vitti. With the physical contact made she was able to force them into his body, hoping that it was his blood and not someone else’s, but right now she had to take the chance for he had too little left in him and not enough time for her to advance his natural production rate.

“Archon,” a voice from behind her said sometime later and she blinked with surprise as a medtech suddenly blossomed into mental view. She’d been so consumed with saving the Vitti that she hadn’t even noticed him arrive.

“This one is barely hanging on,” she said, not letting go. “Limb ripped off and additional structural damage. I’ve patched what I could. Massive blood loss.”

“I still don’t know how you do that,” he said, kneeling beside the Vitti with a briefcase-like box of equipment, “but keep it up another minute.”

“No problem,” she said as he scanned the new race, but thanks to the basic notes they already had he was able to adjust the equipment accordingly and attached four wire-like extensions in through the excessive fur to the skin. When he pressed a button Myra could see tiny tendrils enter the body and begin to take hold, pulling bones back together and starting to make other repairs.

“You can release now. This one is messed up, but this should stabilize him until we can get a full regenerator down here.”

Myra let go her contact, but didn’t move off. “Are you sure?”

The medtech checked his reading thoroughly, then nodded. “Yes. He’s stabilizing.”

The Archon stood up, looking around at the gore and the living Vittis that were watching, then altered her armor speaker to their language translation again.

“We are Star Force and we have come to help you fight the reavers. We will also deal with these pirates. You have nothing to fear from us, and this one,” she said, pointing at the Vitti, “will live. Stay away from the pirates and tell us where they are if you can, but leave their deaths to me.”

On that word she took off running again, pulling her plasma rifle into her grip telekinetically as she moved off and began a rampage across the city, hunting down every pirate she could find and killing them all. The ones already prisoner she’d spare, but these down here were getting no mercy. They weren’t going to be tortured like they’d done to the Vittis, but they were going to die. Quick and clean, but dead and gone. She likewise sent out orders to the other two teams and the rest of her Commandos here.

They had to die, even if they tried to surrender, for there was no way she was going to let them get away with this one day then throw down their weapons and pretend to be helpless the next. They came here as raiders and barbarians and that was the role they were stuck with. There was no changing with the wind, and for all the Vittis that had been tortured and killed in previous days there would be quick vengeance enacted and no survivors from the raiding teams.

The same would hold true in the following days as the other pirates were tracked down across the planet. Those trying to flee back into orbit were shot down by naval drones and the few pilots that had been taken captive before Myra’s rampage began were shuttled back up to the jumpship and dumped inside with the rest of the captives, who were subsequently free of their restraints, rhinos and scarecrows alike, and given a simple order when enough of their language had been translated to handle a few words, with Myra adding a telepathic emphasis to make sure there was no misunderstanding.

Leave now. Never return. Or die.

She added an image of the planet rotating beneath them, and that they had until one completion to get out of her gun sights. If they were still in planetary orbit after that they’d be hunted down and destroyed. If they were in the asteroids they’d be given a head start to get to the star, but Myra made it clear that they were now enemies and if they came across them again they’d be killed on the spot.

The pirates were left onboard their ship for a few hours, then it finally got moving. Myra was already down on the planet again by then, leaving those bastards for her Captain to deal with as she met with the Vittis and had a long talk, explaining why they were here, what had just happened, and that it would never happen again because Star Force was making this planet a ward, meaning they were now responsible for its security and the Vittis had just become part of their empire.

That took some explaining, for it sounded like they were being conquered, but Myra was able to convince them that it was in fact a rescue and not an occupation or exploitation. Besides which, without their help the Vittis were going to all die to the reavers anyway, so there wasn’t much opposition to her arrival…especially when she went directly to one of the reaver combat zones and displayed just what it meant to have an Archon on your side.

After that point the Vitties threw their full support behind their new help even as the reavers continued to gain more territory across the planet, for the Archon could only be in one place at one time, but as she and the other combat teams began to spread out and help slow the bleeding of territory a bit the other ship she’d brought with her into the system slowly descended down through the atmosphere and landed in one of the remaining safe zones on the planet…at least until the reavers eventually fought their way in that far.

It landed in a small valley as the local Vitties pulled back from the few homes in that area to give the cruiser the space it needed in the crowded landscape that was becoming even more so as evacuees from other areas were being compressed into a smaller and smaller landmass. Meanwhile the reaver swarms were growing to such a large size that their own population was becoming totally unsustainable, but it wouldn’t matter to the Vittis because they’d be long dead by the time the planet’s food supply ran out.

Long dead unless they got help, and as soon as the cruiser set down a long stream of blue lizards came out and immediately started setting up equipment and digging down into the soil and bedrock below, establishing the first bits of Paladin infrastructure that, if given a chance, would fight swarm with swarm for control of the planet.

3

November 8, 3493

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

Paladin Skirmisher ARV-119 woke to the world violently, tasting the air for the first time and lashing back at it until his genetic memories awoke and he saw where he was…standing in a Paladin facility with other blue skinned lizards surrounding him. He calmed quickly, hacking out some biogel from his nostrils and fully coming awake. He knew he’d just been grown, but he wasn’t an invalid. He knew a great many things by default and when his fellow Paladin led him off into a nearby chamber he knew that it was for calibration purposes.

He underwent many tests and trials, confirming that he’d been grown correctly and that he was worthy to be put into immediate duty. 119 didn’t know the details of his current situation until he was released from the process known as ‘verification,’ but shortly thereafter he was given an automated briefing via hologram where he was informed of the planet Plataro and the threat to the local population of Vittis by the reavers. Clan Star Fox was annexing this world in an attempt to save the Vittis but had very few resources to devote to the effort.

119 had been grown as part of a Paladin mission and his skills were needed immediately, as was appropriate given that he’d been genetically designed for such tasks. He knew he wasn’t on par with most in Star Force, but whereas they took years to develop in a maturia he could be operational within a few days. This was what he existed for, and the Archons that had summoned his existence were truly in need of Paladin support on this world. There were only three of them and a single Warship-class jumpship in addition to the Paladin cruiser that had grounded on the planet and begun the seeding process, turning it into a fort to protect the structures being built that would spur the upcoming population snowball for the Paladin.

But 119 was the 119th grown for this mission and done so before a proper hatchery could be built, hence he’d originated from the cruiser itself and the few growth pods it contained. His equipment likewise came from the stores on the ship and he was informed that he would be needed for guard duty while the workers continued setting up shop.

When cleared through verification his handlers disappeared and he was given full run of the ship and surrounding areas without oversight. He reported to the armory and claimed a suit of skirmisher armor from the racks of those premade before landing. All were exactly the same size so it didn’t matter which he chose, for all of the skirmishers were identical as well. When he slid the boots onto his clawed feet they fit perfectly, as did the other pieces he assembled into the formidable protection that would make him almost invulnerable to the reavers’ claws and teeth.

The foe they were facing was primitive, but strong and feral. Against Star Force technology they had zero chance, but there was a planet full of Vittis that were not well equipped to fight them. They were small biped/quadruped hybrids that had some combat technology, but no armor or shields for their personnel. When fighting against the reavers they had a range advantage with their weapons, but that was it. If the reavers closed to melee range they were as good as dead.

Reports indicated that there were none in this region of the planet yet and that the Paladin had been designated this landing zone for specifically that reason. The Archon in charge, a titan no less, wanted maximum snowball effect and that meant not landing in a war zone and fighting their way to dominance. 119 regretted that, but he was loyal to the mission and looking forward to doing even the smallest of duties for his Clan…given the fact that he had technically never done anything before, despite the fact he had the memories of how to carry out many tasks.

With his armor on he kept the helmet retracted behind his scaly head and grabbed his weaponry…all of it lethal. There would be no capture of the reavers, only slaughter. That was atypical of Star Force protocol, but after getting the full briefing on what the reavers actually were he understood the reasoning. This race was not a thinking race and the hive mind element would actively interfere with efforts to turn an individual away from the others. Star Force had done such things before, even with his own ancestors in the Li’vorkrachnika, but there was only so much you could do with the unintelligent, and since the reavers were actively killing and eating every Vitti in sight they didn’t have the luxury of taking a few captive and trying to teach them to play nice.

Even now more Vittis were dying on the front lines, but 119 had been assigned patrol duty and that was where he would go, eventually leaving the ship with two plasma weapons and a collapsible sammy sniper rifle tucked into the back of his armor. When he left the ship for the first time he got a taste of the warm atmosphere and the scent of the Vittis that surrounded the area.

There were many buildings in view, but they were small and a good ways back from the cruiser and the surrounding construction sites. 119 made his way around those and out beyond them to the area where the Vittis were, many of whom were watching the Paladin. He tried to disappear into what trees there were, but numerous eyes followed him as he began walking a path on his battlemap that ringed the ship and expansions. It was a thick line that he was to stay within and monitor, with him being given a slice of it to prowl within and stay on guard. If the reavers did slip through somehow, he had to warn the others and be the first to fire upon them.

Taking that into consideration, he didn’t actually think he’d see any reavers on his first day. This was a Vitti stronghold, or at least as much of that word that could apply to the pathetic creatures, and many had sought refuge here. They were overcrowded and had limited foodstuffs, which the Paladin were also going to address. The patrol zone would be gradually expanded and the Vittis pushed back when needed, with 119 being one of the buffers between the two.

As he patrolled his area he spotted others like him nearby, some overlapping his zone while a few more were actively roaming through the construction sites. Nothing was being taken for granted here and he knew how important getting the first structures up and running was. Right now some of those were going underground and a huge mound of rock and dirt was being formed on the surface as tunnels were being established that would link directly to the cruiser, and he could see another skirmisher on top of that pile from time to time using it as a lookout post.

The workers they were guarding were almost identical to 119, save for they were built less for speed than they were for strength. Both variants had been developed from the Li’vorkrachnika ‘standard’ variants, but 119 had been specialized for light combat and scouting tasks. He was small, quick, agile, and smart while the workers were small, strong, and diligent, able to repeat mundane tasks over and over again while also being savvy enough to handle delicate machinery and troubleshoot technical problems.

They looked the same, but their claws were shaped differently and their tattoos emblazoned on their heads indicated their class within the Paladin. 119 had a dot with a circle around it, symbolizing both a target and a zone in which to patrol, while the workers had a series of squares clustered together representing cargo that varied a bit based on their specialties. Those that had attended to him when he woke were of similar form but had a circle with two bars crossing over each other inside, representing the overlap of their class with the others, for they were medics, and that trio made up their third of the Paladin Triad.

Combat, general work, and medical duties are what they were designed for and had the genetic memories to match, but 119 knew that if he survived this mission he’d be able to choose another path for himself if he wished, though he couldn’t imagine why he would want that. He had a role here and tasks that needed to be done, and he couldn’t ever imagine leaving the Paladin. He was Paladin, and to abandon them at any point would be the equivalent of treason.

Such things were permissible though and the Archons made sure to give them the option, but no real Paladin would ever make that choice. 119 and the others thought it was just a way to weed out any defective ones, and so much the better, but it was a path that he would never consider taking.

Day after day he would patrol the corridor around the construction zone and keep the Vittis back. He never shot at them, but usually his mere presence served as a deterrent. The few times he actually had to confront one, with his armor handling the translation, the Vittis didn’t give him any trouble. They were curious and that was fine, so long as they kept their distance. The Paladin were here to save them, after all, but they could only do that if they were allowed to build at maximum efficiency, and that meant uninterrupted work.

So even though the reavers weren’t here yet, 119 still had important work to do to make sure the workers were not interfered with in the slightest. And as the days passed and more and more Paladin were grown and added to the ranks, exterior missions began to occur with an Arbiter claiming him for one.

119 was eager to take on higher tasks, so when he reported to a small hangar that had been built outside the ship he and 9 other skirmishers joined a veteran of their class who had come to this planet via the cruiser and not been grown here. That established him as an ‘Arbiter’ and senior in command, for he had experience that they did not, but if they survived here and were reassigned elsewhere then they would become Arbiters one day, with that brand being one of great respect. If a Paladin failed they would most likely end up dead, so anyone living to become an Arbiter meant they had been victorious in some fashion, even if it was surviving a defeat and living to fight another day.

119 would die if necessary to achieve his assigned mission, but his genetic memories hammered into him the priority not to die uselessly. His value came from his life, not his death, and all things being equal it was better to run from a hopeless fight in order to regroup and defeat the enemy later than it was to stubbornly hold your ground and die accomplishing little. Survival was imperative, especially in a mission like this where the Paladin would be heavily outnumbered. He had to stay alive in order to kill more reavers, and both he and every other newly grown skirmisher understood that.

In the hangar there were three Droplet-class transports, the Paladin version of Star Force dropships but constructed in their own unique way. Two looked to be operational while the third was finishing construction with a group of workers busily clawing their way across it as they clung to walls and walked across the hull with bare feet and hands that had been modified to grip even flat surfaces. It was a variation that 119 did not possess and was unique to the workers, though inside his armor it would have been of no use anyway.

He and the other 10 skirmishers boarded the droplet where a pilot was waiting. He was of the 2nd branch in the Triad and represented a class that was not grown initially. Skirmishers, workers, and medics were the standard allotment when any new colony was constructed and all could operate basic machinery, including flying cargo craft that the workers had some extra memories to help them with, but the pilot variants were specialists in flying all types of craft and were the ones that would be entrusted with combat missions whether it be taking droplets in convoy through hazardous areas, flying the Paladin’s Shuriken-class aerial fighters, or piloting naval warships.

The pilots were much smaller in body than the 1st Triad form, being physically weak but with superior dexterity and information processing capability, bearing a simple tri-pronged genetic tattoo representing a fast ship. They were modified from the Li’vorkrachnika’s librarian variant along with the rest of the 2nd Triad, and this one’s presence here meant this Paladin mission was progressing far faster than normal for them to have grown one already.

With the single pilot in the cockpit and 119 and the other skirmishers seated on wall benches in the back, the droplet’s hatch sealed and the took off, flying across miles of Vitti territory with hundreds of thousands of the little furballs packed into the landscape beneath them.

“Our mission,” the Arbiter said once they’d gotten underway, “is to support a Vitti withdrawal. We search and destroy reavers attempting to isolate and kill them. We do not fully engage the reavers. Be warned, their strength comes in their mass. They can jump onto you and use their momentum to drain your shields. If you have your shields locked to form to preserve power they will knock you over and pile on top, and eventually their claws will get through your armor. These reavers are designed to be weapons. I don’t know they developed like that naturally, but think of them in that way. The claws are not natural. They are armor piercing and will grind yours down if you give them time and opportunity.”

“Have you already engaged them?” another skirmisher asked.

“I have twice now. We can dominate them if we are smart. If we get sloppy or overconfident they will kill us, which is why we cannot go deep into their lines on this mission. We have no support. We are the Vittis’ support. We only engage to give them cover. The number of reavers killed is a bonus, not the mission objective.”

After that brief explanation there were no further talking, as was typical for Paladin. 119 knew that even though he’d only been around a handful of them. They were loyal to the mission and anything other than that didn’t draw their interest. Some would swap stories, he knew, but all those here aside from the Arbiter didn’t have enough experience to share, thus they waited silently as the droplet carried them a long distance across the planet to their target.

119’s anticipation grew as they decelerated and came into a hover near the ground. When the hatch opened and the sounds of weaponsfire and explosions made it to his ears he clenched his fingers.

This was it. This was real combat, what he was designed and grown for. And whether he lived through the day or died here two minutes from now, this is where he belonged…on the front lines fighting to protect those who could not protect themselves and destroying those that deserved it.

He leapt off the droplet and fell half a meter to the ground, catching himself in a partial crouch and staying on his feet as he and the others followed the Arbiter forward at a run headed through the screaming Vittis that were being loaded onto evacuation transports and towards their military branch that was buying them the time to do it with their lives.

119 and the other Paladin would buy them a little bit more, but he had no intention of dying here this day. Armed with Star Force armor, weapons, and genetic memory, he was more than a match for the reavers that he was about to come face to face with for the very first time.

4

May 1, 3494

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

ARV-1388 rushed out of the barracks in which he’d been sleeping for the past 6 hours. It was night and he was on his off shift, but an emergency alarm had ended that. Neither he nor the other Paladin wore clothing unless needed, much like the Vittis on this planet, but when he got to the prep room he pulled on a thin, flexible suit of armor and grabbed his helmet, carrying it with him as he ran through the recently constructed pilot’s complex to the open air hanger in the center of it.

There he found several shurikens that were not in use and claimed one for himself, crawling up the imbedded ladder in the side of the stubby body of the aerial craft and into the topside cockpit. He dropped down inside and pressed a few buttons, powering it up and sealing the hatch over his head, leaving him with no visibility whatsoever.

That changed a moment later when the navigational holograms sprung to life and the cockpit walls disappeared. He knew this was a Type-2 Paladin shuriken, second class to the standard Type-1s built on worlds where resources were abundant. They had a full neural integration system that let you fly the craft with your mind, but the Type-2s were like the rest of the equipment being made here in recent months. All of it was designed to function adequately, but to be made out of only a handful of easy to obtain materials. No solari, no intricate alloys, not even any corovon. The anti-grav engines were inferior, but they functioned well enough compared to lesser empires’ tech and could be built on planets where there was no corovon to harvest.

Everything Type-2 was a secondary design patterned off the regular Type-1s, but done so in a way as to be produced quickly and rapidly in the field. They were inferior in comparison but not in function, and 1388 had already flown four missions in one after his recent growth, so he knew from experience as well as his genetic memory that the fighters were sound.

He gripped the standard control in front of him and flipped a switch on the bottom of the right joystick that made them and his hands disappear, allowing him to see through them and the floor, making it look like he was in an invisible ship save for the wireframe borders that told him where the four stubby wings were. Two in front, two in back, and angled away from the hull so they gave it a crooked star shape when seen from above or below…but from the sides it was very narrow, almost blade-like, making it hard for an opponent to target you if you were focused on him. Even the shields were stronger along the edge, making the safest place to be in a fight was on the attack with your edge towards your enemies.

1388 lifted off with his battlemap telemetry coming through his helmet’s HUD. There was a setting that allowed him to pull it from the shuriken itself, but he preferred the ‘invisible’ flight mode because it let him see everything beside and in front of him…and even over his shoulder if he bothered to turn around, but from the outside the craft was just solid armor plating with the cockpit hatch blending in seamlessly with the hull.

He saw a few other shurikens launching as well, but his orders coming through told him to get moving immediately and not wait on anyone. To that end he spun his forward blades around onto the guide line on his HUD and accelerated as hard as the gravity drives could, slicing through the wind and dodging a passing Vitti transport as he headed for the site of an unexpected reaver incursion. He read through the reports as he flew, seeing that they’d come up through an unknown subterranean tunnel and were pouring out behind defense lines...well behind defensive lines, in the range of some 241 miles.

Updated telemetry was incoming as a naval drone was diving into the atmosphere like a glowing rock and adding its powerful sensors to the task of identifying where that tunnel had come from. It was going to be on site before 1388 was, but it looked like even it wasn’t going to be enough to stem the tide of what was coming up and out of that tunnel that amazingly seemed to disappear beneath the depth range of the sensors.

How could the primitive reavers dig that deep? He might have just been born recently, but how did they get so far behind the defense lines without the Archons knowing it was coming? And how could the ship not see far enough underground to trace the tunnel back to its source?

Something was definitely wrong here, but his mission was clear.

Get on site and shoot as many of the reavers as he could.

As expected, the drone got there first and began throwing down a horrendous amount of firepower onto the tunnel exit, obliterating it and everything nearby, but there were so many reavers already on the surface and spreading out that it couldn’t stop them. In order to try and contain the damage, 1388 swung to the left and went after those furthest out from the epicenter, dropping down low to the ground as he raced forward, then bringing the shuriken into a drifting hover as he opened up with his heavy lachars.

A Type-1 would have had maulers, but the heavy lachars did more than adequate damage here, allowing him to vaporize chunks of the reavers’ bodies on contact, maiming or killing them with single hits. They weren’t big to begin with, but they moved very fast and in erratic patterns, juking side to side even when there was no one targeting them, but by setting his weapons to shotgun mode he was able to deliver a cone of damage rather than a narrow beam.

That cone sent out numerous smaller beams, and 1388 could usually land a hit with each trigger pull. He’d found that it was quicker to wound a group with the shotgun mode, then switch over to standard to finish them off when their agility was diminished, but there were so many here now it almost didn’t matter. The few he was plucking off the perimeter were inconsequential to how many more were loose and fanning out in all directions, killing whatever Vittis they came across.

1388 saw several of the equally fast white furballs running from three reavers and angled towards them, stitching the ground between them with lachar strikes and causing the reavers to flinch, then the Paladin brought his fighter to a halt midair and flipped his two blade-like nose wings down and pummeled the reavers from pointblank range with as wide a shotgun mode as he could, firing over and over again until the Vitti group was clear and their immediate pursuit was torn up into little gooey chunks.

Then as more reavers ran underneath and around his ship, trying to get after the escaping Vittis, he started to take impacts on his shields. 1388 didn’t know what to make of it at first, for it was doing no damage, but he did see different reavers beneath him. They were about the same size as the normal ones, but these had different body parts and seemed to be spitting something into the air at his ship.

Knowing that the shuriken was recording everything that happened, he didn’t worry about it and knew there were analysts that would later. Right now though his mission was to kill, not study, so he kept his nose pointing down and got a little more altitude, backing up into the sky and launching a tiny missile down into the group that was collecting and firing up on him together. The warhead detonated and killed several hundred while knocking down others along the perimeter that quickly got back to their feet and scurried on looking for more targets or just a way to escape the aerial destruction that was imperviously coming down and out of their clawing range.

Back in the grounded cruiser at the center of the growing Paladin base an Oracle sat in a pod-like station monitoring the feeds coming from the ships in the field. His body looked exactly the same as that of the pilots, save for the bar within circle tattoo that marked him as an analyst and controller. When the new variant of reaver showed up on the fighters’ sensors the Oracle immediately began collecting data on them, noting that they had a ranged weapon of unknown make that was reaching the shuriken in the air but not damaging them.

Or at least not damaging the shields. The sensor packages on the Type-2s weren’t great, but he should still be able to pull some information from the shield impacts. Digging into the mass of data being transmitted through the battlemap, he got live feeds from the fighters and a partial analysis of the gel-like substance hitting the shields. More than telling him what it was, the Oracle was able to rule out certain possibilities, and coupled with the sight of the gel dropping onto the ground and its interaction there, literally dissolving whatever it touched, he speculated that the weapon was some type of acid.

He knew that would be devastating to a lot of the Vitti defense lines that had been built to repel melee combat, so he marked his analysis as ‘speculative’ and shot it off through the network to all those who needed to know, then began pulling up additional images of the new reavers and started cataloging their proportions, perceived weaknesses and strengths, and basically writing the book on the new enemy…all within minutes of making first contact with them.

In the nearby hatchery, situated mostly underground and growing fast with new construction, an Arbiter worker received a message from their commander onboard the cruiser, citing the need to start producing the more advanced Dragoons. They were part of the 3rd Triad and usually reserved until later, spamming skirmishers at first to get their numbers up, but an addendum to the message added that a new version of reaver had shown up and that a counter must be produced.

That wasn’t good news, but the Arbiter wouldn’t be fighting them himself unless things went horribly wrong and the reavers made it all the way here. His job was to produce the necessary reinforcements given the materials supplied to him and the biogel needed to grow them wasn’t easy to make, but the collection teams were feeding him enough raw materials to allow him to be birthing a decent amount of new Paladin on a regular basis. He’d have to delay scheduled allotments to work the larger dragoons in, and he wouldn’t be able to grow as many because they were patterned off the old school masterminds and had significantly more muscle mass…which was necessary to carry around their specialized weaponry.

The Arbiter put in an order for 3rd Triad growth pods to be assembled and stocked as soon as possible, which he expected would come online within 2 days. At that point the closely guarded genetic material would be inserted and the new Paladin would begin their rapid growth, reaching maturity in 42 days for the dragoons. 1st Triad took 26 days and 2nd took only 18, which was another reason why 3rd Triad wasn’t usually rushed in the beginning of a seeding mission like this, but you had to adapt to the current situation and the bigger guys were now needed. The Arbiter just hoped there was enough time to get them grown and the necessary weapons produced for them…and that whoever needed them now could hang on long enough for them to get to them.

AVN-2712 was rushed to the equipment room as soon as he passed verification. He geared up with four others, putting on their armor and exoskeletal racks as easily as if they’d been doing it for 100 years, though none of them had ever touched one before. In fact none of them had ever done anything before, having gone straight from their growth pods to verification and were now here only hours later. They were as green as green could get, but had the knowledge of veterans and knew exactly what it was they needed to do.

2712 wore heavy armor colored dark blue, which wasn’t as dense as what he normally wore because it was also a Type-2 along with probably everything else the Paladin had on planet so far that they hadn’t brought in with them. That said, the armor was still incredibly strong and had built in energy shielding that could recharge whereas armor couldn’t. Given his 8 foot tall size he could carry a lot of it, but that wouldn’t be necessary with the powered enhancement. He’d wear it, but the armor would carry most of its own weight for him and on top of it wasn’t just a weapons rack, but a full exoskeleton of attachment points that ran down his back, arms, and legs.

It was a full body rack, and onto it he added the weapons that dragoons were known for. His orders were to fill out as a rocket baby and as he glanced around he saw the others were as well. He grabbed three launchers and attached them to various spots, then added boxy ammunition canisters that were extra well protected with both armor and shields of their own. Having one of those detonate on his back would be a very bad thing, even with the armor he wore, and should a dragoon go out like that they were probably going to die, for their rockets were far more powerful than their small size suggested.

The smaller Paladin used them at times, but they couldn’t carry very much. Dragoons were built to be the tanks of the infantry and lived up to that reputation, with 2712’s unit marching out together to board a droplet in an intimidating line. A few dozen new skirmishers joined them and took their seats in the hold, but the dragoons simply stood. With their exoskeletons loaded up they couldn’t sit in the seats anyway.

When the droplet reached their destination point the ramp opened up onto a massive battlefield just behind friendly lines that were under assault. The Vittis had established several fort-like bunkers that they were holding just ahead of a low wall so that when the reavers came they’d surround the bunkers that would diminish their numbers and break up their ranks before they got to the weaker wall…behind which 2712 saw was a huge Vitti settlement. The buildings weren’t tall by Star Force standards, but with the Vitti being so small they could pack a lot of them into a remarkably small space, making their interior levels much shorter than normal and meaning there was an awful lot of people depending upon this line to be held.

The dragoons led the way out and headed straight for the waypoint on the wall, but the skirmishers quickly passed them by and got there first, moving the odd little Vittis aside that were standing on their rear legs and holding small rifles in their front ones. Suddenly targets appeared on their battlemap, but they weren’t the ones already engaged ahead. They were further out in the approaching masses of reavers and out of sight…but that didn’t matter to the rockets.

“Clear the area,” 2712 ordered, with several skirmishers assisting with shooing the Vittis away from the five heavily armed Paladin.

Using battlemap telemetry, 2712 raised his right arm and aimed the tube-like barrel on the necessary trajectory as indicated by his HUD, getting it within tolerance before pulling the trigger that released a flash of glowing red that shot up in a high arc up and over both the wall and the bunkers, sailing far out beyond the swarms of reavers and illuminating them slightly in the nighttime conditions.

There were large torch-like lights set up all around the wall and bunkers, but it was dark further beyond making it hard to see any reavers save those within firing range. Star Force sensors didn’t have that limitation, so the rocket that was the size of a Calavari finger guided itself using the tiny engine inside to track towards a clump of reavers that were not the melee version. Rather they were the acid spitters raining down their little attacks on the front wall of the bunkers and slowly chewing through it, after which the claws of their brethren would be within range of the Vittis when they jumped through the holes created, but if they got much closer they’d be able to arc their acid shots up and over the small defense wall and hit the exposed troops there.

But not the group that this glowing rocket landed on. It knocked one acid spitter to the ground when it hit, then detonated a split second later creating a briefly lived expanding ball of burning red light that ate away at everything within range far faster than the reaver acid would. Even the ground vaporized in places, and that sudden expansion of solid into gas created a hurricane-like pressure wave that shot out from the impact, knocking down all the reavers nearby like dominoes with a few even bouncing off the bunkers.

But the dragoons didn’t just fire one rocket, they launched multiple ones and the sea of reavers suddenly turned into a torrent of air and red flashes, after which the battlemap indicated that the acid spitter groups had been destroyed, for the most part, but there was no guarantee that more reinforcements weren’t coming from the subterranean tunnels that they dug unnaturally fast to avoid air patrols.

There were none here, for this was a lower priority region and more valuable cities were in need of them, both the Paladin shurikens and the Vitti craft. This was to be an infantry war here, and as long as the dragoons had ammunition they were going to keep the reavers to melee combat, to which end the five of them spread out across the wide northern defense line and made like turrets at key points while an army of skirmishers aided the Vittis and mowed down reavers as fast as they could.

5

May 23, 3501

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

AVN-127335 sat on a stool with his large blue tail hanging off the back as he read through reports at a furious rate, flipping from one to another and absorbing the first real knowledge of his life. He’d just come out of verification and was now catching up on the mission for which he’d been created that was already 8 years in. The planet was Plataro and the native race was called the Vitti, whom Star Force had declared a ward and sent three Archons and a small group veteran Star Force personnel in to lead a Paladin seed that was now large enough to begin producing hatchery batches in decent numbers.

Resources were still an issue and they were consuming everything they collected with a ravenous appetite, but he’d finally been grown now that the skills of a master strategist were starting to become needed with the increased number of Paladin involved and a planet full of natives that needed guidance as well. According to his reports, the Archons were spending most of their time on the front lines as combat personnel rather than organizers, so it was no surprise that they’d called for his birth long before typically…

The door to his small transitional chamber opened and a golden clad suit of Archon armor walked in showing considerable battle damage.

“Viceroy,” Myra said, pulling her helmet off as the lizard noted that damage was preventing it from retracting normally.

“Archon,” he responded.

“Your verification came through cleanly, and now I need you to get to work immediately.”

“I am already reviewing battle records,” the 3rd Triad lizard said. His variant was based off the original masterminds but with some considerable alterations that upped their mental power. It was a far cry from Sav, but the Viceroys could think faster and interface with certain computer systems to let them monitor and send orders at a lightning fast rate, as well as do a number of other things that were small upgrades to the previous masterminds, though that term and its Li’vorkrachnika equivalent had been scrapped for the Paladin ranks.

“Good. You know the enemy we face?”

“I am beginning to.”

“There is something wrong with them,” Myra said, leaning against a nearby wall as she talked. “They have a telepathic hive mind, but they are behaving too smart. They are easy to destroy in small numbers and difficult in large groups, but our biggest weakness is not being able to be in the same place at the same time. A mindless hoard wouldn’t know where and when to hit us, but the reavers do. I believe they have a controller somewhere on the planet handling strategy, for there’s just no way these fortuitous hits are random. I need you to look for this influence while you manage the Paladin. I have to devote my time to combat or we’ll lose additional Vittis.”

“What are our causalities?” he asked, not having gotten to those numbers yet.

“4% and falling as we increase our numbers. The reavers are dangerous when they can isolate a target, but we can’t clump together without leaving other areas undefended. I’m responding to incursions constantly, and even then we can’t stop them all. There is a continuous retreat going on and we need to save as many Vittis as we can prior to us forcing the reavers back. We will win this, but our objective is to claim not just the planet but the Vittis as well, so there are no acceptable losses, but there are some that we simply cannot stop from occurring.”

“They do not fight well.”

“They are ill suited for it, though they are trying.”

“Have you noted any offworld influence?”

Myra shook her head. “After we removed the pirates there hasn’t been any visitors or indication of a link between the reavers beyond this planet. They appear to be local but usually stay in select areas, mostly underground, and in much smaller numbers. There are rumors of past surges like this, but I don’t believe they’re accurate. The Vitti were much less numerous and technologically viable in the past and at least some of them survived. Either the previous instances were far less intense or this is something new.”

“What has happened to your armor?” the Viceroy asked, referencing the widespread damage.

“Attrition over the past years. I already used up my other suits.”

“We are not building replacements?”

“Not of this grade, and it is tactically more viable to use this damaged one now than to make use of a replacement.”

“The resources on this planet are not rich enough,” he said, agreeing with her based off the mining reports he’d been rifling through.

“Not enough for full armor, no, and we can’t spend the resources we need to build synthesis facilities yet.”

“How long do you want me to wait?”

“Until the defense lines stabilize. Until then every resource we spend on future production means more Vittis get overrun. We need maximum growth rate for immediate engagement. There is no time to prepare.”

“Which is why you are assigning yourself continuous combat duty.”

“And will continue to do so. You will oversee coordination efforts from here on out. If there’s somewhere you think I or the other Archons need to be, don’t hesitate to make a recommendation.”

“I will maximize your effectiveness,” the Viceroy promised. “Are we getting any incoming convoys?”

“No. This is a totally isolated assignment. Local resources only, no personnel transfers.”

“A worthy challenge in its own right, but we could grow more rapidly even with a small amount of assistance. Why is none available?”

“Looks like you’ve got some more reading to do. We’re stretched thin across the Rim Region and normally this planet is one that we couldn’t help, but with the Paladin’s growth potential it was decided to send a small team and try to save some of them.”

“Are we in danger from exterior involvement?”

“Unlikely, but we can never rule it out. Do not build against that contingency though. Put everything we’ve got against the reavers and towards securing the Vittis. If there is exterior contact we’ll have to improvise and we have one warship here to cover us.”

“How are the reavers surviving against our orbital bombardment?”

“Exclusively through the use of fast carved tunnels.”

“Can’t our weapons reach them?”

“Some go very deep. Too deep to get at quickly. These reavers do not act as native lifeforms. They act like weapons. I want to know why.”

“Curious,” he said, suddenly silent as he thought with Myra taking a peek into his thoughts.

“There are parallels,” she agreed. “But do not let them trap us into fighting on their terms.”

“We are Star Force,” the Viceroy said with a mix of confidence and pride. “We do not fight like the Li’vorkrachnika.”

“We’ve already lost far too many people, and most of those were not due to mistakes. They were overrun holding positions protecting others. I can’t be everywhere at once, so make sure our troops aren’t overwhelmed again.”

“Have we found their origin point yet?”

“Nothing that we can hit to stem the tide. All obvious targets have already been bombarded, but the flow still continues. The rock of this planet limits sensor range enough that their burrow depth exceeds it in places.”

“Places to hide. Very well, we will fight them here for now. If you have further instructions make them. Otherwise do not let me waste your valuable time.”

Myra held up her right arm and balled her fist. “KSA.”

The Viceroy repeated the gesture and touched his larger, scaly blue fist against her armored one.

“KSA,” he repeated, then the Archon put her helmet back on and left, leaving the Viceroy in full command and knowing that he’d take care of everything in her absence…and then some.

6 years later…

Paladin Hastati charged into the tunnel entrance they’d just fought their way up to, backtracking a reaver web tube that had been seen to be suppling far too many reinforcements to be just a simple offshoot. Rather than bomb it out of existence from a drone flyover the Paladin had mounted an attack and pushed their way up to it, with their primary hand to hand troops diving into the seemingly empty tunnels head first.

They crawled down the steep slope on all fours, as their armor was built to accommodate, making and sending a battlemap of the route back to the rest of the forces above ground, expanding upon the orbital scans as they charged down a straight shaft that led to several intersections with branching tunnels. They ignored all but one, following what the scans had told them would lead down below sensor range.

They weren’t alone but they did ignore all reavers that didn’t come attacking them, and there were plenty of those. Not in full attack surge mode, but in the small tunnels you couldn’t fight more than 3 or 4 at once so it didn’t matter aside from ammo reserves and their pace of descent. When the hastati did come face to face with the reavers they used forearm gauntlets on all four limbs to stab and shoot at point blank range.

The blades themselves were energized so that they inflicted cauterized cuts, but they could function without power as well, meaning that the hastati would never be completely unarmed. The weapons worked well enough on the reavers, and with just as many or more hastati coming down the tunnels and piling up on top of each other they quickly killed any opposition that crossed their path.

They continued lower and lower, eventually coming to tunnels that zigzagged back and forth to get more depth, passing below sensor scans and into uncharted territory. They added onto their map with every meter they crossed and kept a signal line all the way back up to the surface with Paladin stationed at intervals to act as transmitters through the rock and dirt.

The Viceroy watched them live from his command center, for this wasn’t an assault mission. Rather it was reconnaissance intended on giving him the information he needed as to what was down there and potentially where the reavers were spawning so many reinforcements. The riddle of their food supply alone had to involve some subterranean supplements, for there simply wasn’t enough on the surface to sustain the numbers they were producing despite the fact that they ate both the Vittis and their own dead.

What was down there? An enclosed ecosystem full of plants or their own version of livestock? Nothing seemed to make sense and it was time to get some answers, risky as this was. Without knowing where the reinforcements were coming from he could be unwittingly sending his hastati into a trap, but knowing their affinity for tunnel fighting he was fairly confident they could fight their way out of it if needed so long as they weren’t flanked, thus he was keeping pockets of troops all the way down the line to act as reserve flankers of this own should any of the comm relay posts report a counterattack against their position.

So far there was nothing but small incidents, but he kept pouring troops down and extending the scouts out a bit around the main tunnel to give their lifeline a bit more width as the lead group continued to push farther and farther underground…so far in fact that heat levels began to rise to uncomfortable levels for those unarmored. The reavers were apparently immune, or at least resistant, to it, for the tunnel walls were not insulated and little more than carved rock with many cracks and vents hissing steam and various liquids out into the confined atmosphere, though it was still breathable despite there being no sign of life support systems to recycle it.

More and more waves of reavers kept arriving in their path and getting mowed down, but no huge surge appeared and the hastati eventually came down to a new tunnel branch after a very long time in one descending tunnel. They split up, sending scouts both ways while the bulk of their forces stayed put and waited for what seemed like a very long time for the Viceroy to give the order.

He was watching all the expansions from the point of view of the hastati’s armor camera when one suddenly exited the tunnel shaft into open air…for that’s what it looked like. He could see a few hundred meters before mist cut out the view and there was nothing solid in sight save for a descending cliff face that was scalable at about a sharp 30 degree angle with lots of little handholds carved into the rock.

A switching of the hastati’s HUD revealed what was inside that fog and the Viceroy’s eyes widened. This was no chamber. This was a pocket geodome miles wide and containing thick vegetation…

No, this couldn’t be right. The vegetation wasn’t random when viewed from the big picture vantage point. There were clusters of various types of plants set into geometric patterns meaning that this was all designed, not naturally occurring.

He gave the order for his troops to move there, securing the entrance and the line back up, then pushing out in force to search the area without getting front heavy.

That last caveat was what saved his hastati when pores on the geodome’s floor opened up and thousands of reavers came crawling out at lightning fast pace. The Paladin fought through an organized retreat despite the fact that it looked like they could win, but the Viceroy knew that there was no way to ascertain their true numbers. They obviously didn’t want them here and that meant there could be a lot more on the way. The hastati had got him some valuable intel, but pushing on now could be unwise. He hated giving up the foothold that he had, but launching a full invasion right now was a gamble that his competitive drive wanted to take, but his Star Force memories told him that letting go one possible win was often the path to setting up many more future ones.

Heeding that advice he ordered them to pull back up the narrow tunnels as fast as possible while sending now more hastati at the same time to thicken the numbers in the side branches in order to push them out to keep the main shaft clear. Not soon after he did that there was no less than three heavy flanking attacks that the hastati stopped cold, though the fighting at those locations was so intense the hastati had to rotate out with fresh troops coming in as their armor and strength was shredded under the power of so many claws and thrashing limbs hitting you minute after minute with no pause or end.

The flanking units held the shaft long enough for the main body to make it back up to them, then they all merged together with the Viceroy watching the local commanders coordinate the withdrawal, ensuring that no tendril of their formation got caught out and ready to intervene if necessary. The few casualties that they had were already being passed back up the line and carried to the surface and the medics waiting there. If their wounds weren’t too severe they would probably survive and be back into fighting shape within a month even if new limbs had to be regrown, but he was getting fatality counts already in some sparse numbers.

The Viceroy growled. Each one lost was a defeat, but it could have been far worse if they’d acted with a bit less caution. Not satisfied with that counterpoint, he pulled up the logs from the medics that were treating the first ones up to identify how his hastati were being killed.

Neck and head wounds…with missing helmets.

The Viceroy frowned momentarily, then his ire spiked as he suspected the cause. He compared additional reports and found an alarming trend. It was rare compared to how many troops were involved, but those dying seemed to have been losing their helmets not due to damage, but to them being removed intact.

There was an external release latch that the hastati could use if the internal retraction mechanisms didn’t function.  If they did they’d pull the helmet back into a lump behind the neck, but if the manual was used it came off entirely.

He had his analysts do some quick checks of camera data stored from all the hastati involved in the attack and they eventually came back with visuals of the reavers intentionally reaching for the latches when they got a hastati on the ground. Not all of them would. Mostly they clawed at their armor doing a little damage with each strike and wearing them down for the others to come, but some were going for the latches. When they were almost randomly successful they would then try and pry the loose helmets off and get to the hastati’s exposed necks.

“Hive mind,” he said with distaste. Someone, probably at random, had hit a latch and they saw that the helmet popped off. Then they or the theoretical controllers saw it and passed that knowledge through the group…and they were hiding the fact by not having all of them go for the same tactic.

That worried the Viceroy more than anything, for it meant the reavers were far more cunning than their sheer brutality suggested. A ravenous horde didn’t do anything more than claw their way forward, but one that utilized tactics in proportional numbers was a foe to respect no matter what their combat ratings were.

As the medical reports started to shift to ‘they will live’ markers a lot of casualties began to fade from the list. Those that were still in danger or not yet untreated glowed active…along with those that had already died, though in Star Force’s case that didn’t mean they were permanently dead. The Paladin had technology that could revive you shortly after damage incurred, and despite their lack of adequate resources some of that regenerator tech was available to them.

The Viceroy saw a few hastati that were marked ‘dead’ switch to ‘active,’ which was a small relief, but not all of them did. Some were too badly damage with the head wounds, though those with only neck damage were recoverable if they could get to them fast enough, and passing the casualties back up the link as soon as they were damaged meant some were saved while others didn’t last to the end of that journey.

Final count after a full retreat was executed came to 78 casualties, meaning dead and injured, with the final deceased count falling to 12. Their loss wasn’t worth the information, for none of his Paladin were expendable, but at least they hadn’t died for nothing. Now the Viceroy had a location and a lot of information for his analysts to digest, but for the moment he linked in with the Clan warship in orbit and arranged for two drones to fly into position over that tunnel site.

At which point they began to unload their beam weaponry on it and did not relent, gradually coring further and further underground through the rock for hours until they finally penetrated through to the geodome…at which point other weaponry was fired down through the very narrow corridor that had been carved out and went to work killing everything that it could touch with splash damage.

Another drone came in that was carrying missiles, which it sent down into the open area beneath at a slow enough velocity that they could arc away from the crater at the bottom of the shaft and turn to target and hit everything around it.

And with the naval rain dripping down the pipe, everything in that geodome was eventually destroyed.

6

February 12, 3518

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

Ten shurikens flew in formation up and over a mountain ridge, coming into view of a huge throng of reavers hundreds of thousands strong. They were appearing out of numerous subterranean exits and flowing like a river across the ground towards a nearby Vitti stronghold at the precise moment when all naval drones were occupied with anti-surface activities elsewhere. The tunnels carved up to the surface were freshly cut minutes ago and the army was skittering across the ground as fast as it could to get to the emplacements before any naval assets could be repositioned.

But the shurikens had gotten here in time and lobbed tiny bloons down onto the reavers, each of which mushroomed out and killed hundreds of them…but there were so many in play it didn’t seem to matter. The Paladin squadron strafed them multiple times until their ammunition was depleted, then they just hovered over them, noses pointed down, and targeted individual reavers with their heavy lachars.

When the fighters stopped moving a mass of acid attacks shot up at them, blanketing their shields in goo that should have done little to affect them, but this time was different. The pilots saw their shield levels drop slowly, but it stacked with additional acid hits on them until the drain was so furious that the squadron had to break off. They flew towards the southern mountain ridge but not all of them made it. The acid penetrated their shields then fell onto the hull, burning into and scarring it on most of them, but a few suffered more damage.

Two of the fighters had actually gotten more than 8 inches of acid built up on the shields, and when that fell onto the shuriken it slowly began to eat through the resistant armor. A few patches from previous battle damage where an explosion had torn gashes into the hull dissolved faster than the regular armor and exposed the innards to it. The pilots were fine inside their internal armored cocoons but the rest of the shuriken was not.

One of the pilots tried to roll and throw the clinging goo off via centrifugal force but the tactic came too late and he still lost power. Both shurikens rammed into the north-facing mountainside while the others managed to survive thanks to their armor consuming all of the acid and still retaining a bit of protection.

The fighters immediately circled around and confirmed that the pilots were alive, but the reavers had seen them go down and a large tendril of them were diverting and heading their way. It’d take half an hour or more for them to get there, but if they didn’t get the pilots out they’d be sitting ducks. Given enough time the reavers’ sharp claws could chew through the armor, though it looked like the acid splitters were staying with the main group to provide aerial cover.

Two of the fighters went to ground while the other 6 hugged low to the terrain and accelerated towards the reavers again, intent on staying out of range of the acid spitters but shooting some of the approaching melee versions and extending the window of rescue, for the downed pilots were still reporting acid on their craft that had yet to be neutralized.

AVN-449218 landed some 140 meters away from one of the downed shurikens and popped the hatch carefully. He stood up on his pommel seat and looked at his own craft, seeing the acid damage and assuming that little bits of it were still dangerous even if the bulk had completed its chemical reactions and created the ghostly white residue that looked like tiny soap suds or bloated sand. He knew better than to touch it even in his pilot’s armor, but he realized if he jumped out and onto the ground he would have no way of climbing back onboard.

He looked all around the topside of the craft, seeing no areas free of the white residue. The reavers had literally coated the whole thing and he wondered how they didn’t get killed by their own attacks, for every shot that missed had to have fallen on their own troops.

Each acid shot was small, but he’d been hit with so many it was mindboggling. He knew the reavers’ numbers were insane, but this was the first blanketing he’d ever gotten from acid…let alone acid that could weaken shields. He didn’t know if this was a new upgrade or just an accumulation of hits, but the white residue was new. They’d never managed to hit Paladin armor before, but where they hit Vittis’ tech it fizzled into clear goop most of the time.

The pilot sat back down but kept the cockpit open, then he altered the life support controls and turned up the gravity as much as he could stand. His feet, legs, and tail were squashed against the pommel as he fought to stand up, poking his head out above the shuriken. Then from there he reached down and leaned on the controls, pulling his fighter up a bit before rotating it over.

Suddenly he was upside down but only his head felt it. The rest of him was being sucked firmly to the ship as the two different gravities literally pulled him apart, stretching his neck between the two as he coasted over to the downed shuriken that was partially imbedded into the soil. He got right up next to it, grabbed a set of tools from beneath the pommel, and jumped as hard as he could, getting his torso out of the high grav bubble but it wasn’t enough. His heavy legs pulled him back inside, then he dialed it back enough that his second jump broke him free and he fell headfirst to the ground a meter below.

He landed on all fours and crawled away from the sprinkling of white goo coming down with a few drops hitting his shields and rolling off. When he got clear he ran up onto the part of the crashed shuriken that was visible and hopped from piece to piece that wasn’t showing residue, for it looked like most of it had been thrown off during the sudden impact. The area around the half buried hull was sizzling with leftover acid, but he was able to step through it and around the still smoking patches of the hull as he was talking on his comm with the pilot inside.

He started cutting or bending various components out of the way and making sure to avoid any acid remaining inside the breached hull plates. It took a very long time to expose the inner protective cocoon with him periodically watching the battlemap as the reavers got closer and closer despite the fighter cover thinning them down. With the main hatch buried, he eventually got an emergency route cut through to the bottom as the Paladin inside did the same thing and released emergency locks that allowed the cocoon to be opened from any direction if needed, though the process wasn’t a quick one.

“Be cautious,” AVN-449218 said as he offered his fellow pilot a thin hand. “Acid residue is everywhere.”

“How is your shuriken?”

“No full breaches,” he said as he pulled the other Paladin clear of the cocoon and they both carefully tiptoed their way back over the acid spots on the surrounding ground.

They got underneath his fighter as he jumped up, with the higher gravity field catching him and pulling him inside the upside down floating shuriken. He pressed a few buttons but they failed to work.

“Extension is disabled,” he said, offering his hand and yanking the other pilot up to him as he let the gravity pull him to the ride side of the already cramped cockpit. “We’re going to have to ride open air.”

“Thank you for coming for me,” he said as the approaching carpet of reavers was trailing behind a rain of blue lachar blasts that were getting very loud and near.

“What Paladin wouldn’t?” he asked as he awkwardly reached his arms into the controls and the other pilot just as awkwardly tried to scrunch his body out of the way without touching the acid residue on the outer hull.

They made it work and soon the shuriken was flipping over again and the two pilots were staring at the sight of the other fighter and the rescue attempt there. Rather than leaving they moved in front of that crashed ship and began to fire on the approaching reavers like a turret, seeing no acid spitters within the group. They held position until the ground suddenly opened up nearby and a new tunnel entrance was formed.

They had a few seconds to react before the material was cleared and the pilot spun his shuriken around and shot the mound of dirt pushing up, killing the burrowing unit and momentarily plugging the hole, but the reavers behind it just pushed it out of the way and began spilling out as the other 6 fighters suddenly realized what was happening and turned around to assist, flying the short distance up to the location and pouring all their lachars onto the single exit and vaporizing anything that came up.

As they redirected their sensors down into the ground they saw two more tendrils rising up nearby, then one of the other pilots made a rash decision. He warned off the rescuing one before opening fire on the downed shuriken, blasting through the damaged craft and exposing the cocoon. Had this been a Type-1 shuriken the tiny tractor beam would have come in handy, but given the lack of necessary components the Type-2s weren’t built to hold them, meaning the Paladin were going to have to improvise.

The pilot continued to blast away until the now melty cocoon was free of the rest of the craft, then he flew one of the shuriken’s four wing-like blades underneath the cocoon and expertly popped it free. The sphere rolled a bit then came to rest against a bit of debris with the hatch popping almost immediately as it stopped. The surviving pilot climbed out and ran to the other on the ground as the lachar fire continued to fall nearby and the second tunnel pushed a dirt mushroom up above the surface.

The two pilots climbed back onboard and got some elevation immediately as a few acid spitters came out and were missed by the lachars that now had to target two locations. A few random shots flew out before they were eventually destroyed, but the flow of reavers was getting to be too much to handle and the main wave was less than a minute away. The fighters without open cockpits flew in to give shield cover as the two doubled occupied ones gained altitude and flew up over the mountains, narrowly escaping yet another diversionary tactic. That main body had been meant to pull the fighter cover off while the tunnelers did their thing and got right up on them.

But even as the fighters fled the reavers could be seen swarming the remains of the two downed shurikens…and pulling bits and pieces of it apart and carrying them back down the tunnels.

Upon return to base the damaged fighters were sent back out immediately save for one, and that one ended up in the hands of the Alchemists. There were very few produced on the planet to date, but the 2nd Triad Paladin were the ones responsible for studying the reaver corpses. Their interest here was the acid residue and hopefully any droplets of the pure form they could recover as the battle with the acid spitters who had done the damage still continued on and those corpses weren’t yet available for study.

The thin lizards were identical to the pilots, but had a distinctive trio of bars tattooed on their heads that wasn’t visible through the protective suits they wore while dissecting the fighter. The alchemists would take and analyze whatever samples they found, but unlike their kin they were more focused on developing a countermeasure than simply identifying and cataloging what it was.

Fortunately Star Force knowledge was so advanced that the fix was relatively simple. A shield matrix alteration was needed, but it was something that could be altered without having to build new equipment. The new specs for that were completed within 2 days of the alchemists getting their hands on the samples, and by the end of the third day all shurikens, tanks, and mechs had been suitably reset, though doing the same with each suit of armor was going to take a lot more time.

The pilots though could now return to aerial bombardment with impunity, and coupled with constant subterranean sensor scans beneath major fortifications and cities, Star Force had now almost completely stopped the reaver advance with only a few exceptions across the planet. They hadn’t won this fight, not by far, but the Vittis that were behind the defense lines were more or less safe now, though the reavers disagreed. They continued to launch constant assaults and force the defenders to bleed them dry…all the while weakening them via attrition.

And that attrition was primarily suffered by the Vitti forces. There were enough Paladin now to support them on all fronts, but not enough to replace them. Until that happened there were going to be more Vitti losses in combat troops, but at least the wholesale slaughter of their civilian population had been stopped and those incursions that were still succeeding were seeing quick evacuation efforts.

It had been a quarter of a century in the making, but the Archons and Paladin had been able to save an estimated 42% of the Vitti population. The losses that number implied were disgustingly huge, but had Star Force not come it would have reached 100% by now, and everyone on the planet knew it.

But the fight was still ongoing and the number of reavers wasn’t diminishing. It was still increasing and making this fight harder and harder, but the Paladin had so many tech advantages and now a return to total air superiority that the reavers didn’t really stand a chance in the long run. The Paladin would continue to grow in numbers as well, and when a tipping point was reached they’d go on the offensive and start hunting down and clearing out the reavers on the surface that the drones hadn’t smoked yet, then they’d start the much harder battle underground where air power would do them no good.

The Viceroy knew that was going to be the real war to come, but saving as many of the Vitti as possible had been their primary goal and that was nearly wrapped up. Taking full possession of this planet and exacting vengeance on behalf of the locals was the second part of this mission, but the lingering fact that the reavers had actively collected and spirited away samples of Star Force tech was disturbing. What could they possibly use it for? Or were they a lot more advanced than they appeared to be.

7

January 31, 3531

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

The Viceroy watched numerous holograms around his command center simultaneously as Paladin armies were invading the subterranean geodomes that the reavers lived in beneath sensor range. It’d taken a long time to finally construct a sophisticated enough sensor array to be able to penetrate that far down, and had involved decommissioning and tearing apart three naval drones to get the necessary solari to do it, but now he had a single aerial platform with which he had been meticulously scanning the planet and identifying where these geodomes were.

And they were everywhere. Literally, they were spread across the entire planet like a network of roadways with connecting tunnels between them, but it was the heavy clusters that truly surprised the Viceroy. For not having access to any technology, these reavers had managed to carve out some 62,000 geodomes in the piece of the northern hemisphere that had been scanned to date, and there was more than twice that amount of territory left to investigate.

Winning the surface war had been easy in comparison, but now he had to send the Paladin down inside the planet to these geodomes that may or may not be all that stable. Rather than use the reaver’s own tunnels the Paladin were drilling and building their own access shafts directly into the top of the geodomes where the melee minions couldn’t reach, then they were bombing the hell out of those stupid enough to congregate below before sending in the ground troops to start cleaning up and pushing out through the surrounding tunnels.

Fortunately the Viceroy had enough personnel to leave behind in each geodome so it couldn’t be reoccupied, and one in particular had been taken intact. Archon Myra had led that assault personally and now the Viceroy’s alchemists were swarming the place and feeding him a lot of interesting information, first of which was how they were feeding so many reavers when the surface wasn’t supplying them any more victims or vegetation to scavenge.

They had farms down here with high volume vegetation that could be both eaten and used to bear dense and high calorie fruit. He assumed eating the vegetation was a backup plan, but the growth rate was apparently enough to allow for it since some geodomes they were assaulting had patches that were clear cut. He suspected those were where massive birthing swarms were held before being sent up to the surface to fight and die as expendable ammunition, but in order for them to grow to maturity they needed a lot of foodstuffs and it looked like these fields were meant to both sustain a stable population as well as to be consumed by a surge of population when needed.

And they’d come across some of those surges in the making. They were being grown in adjacent chambers carved into hot rock and consisted of gelatinous sacks that had larvae inside that ate the gel until partially mature, then they’d be released to feast on the fields in a geodome until they were full grown…at which point the swarm would be released, for they couldn’t sustain that amount of population down here for long.

So the massive reaver population was a ‘fire and forget’ weapon being led by a telepathic hive mind hinged on several elusive points that the Archons had managed to identify using their own telepathy, but those points never allowed them to get close. They were always moved out well before Paladin arrived and would have been kept safely anonymous if not for the Archons’ abilities and the strategic fingerprint they left behind.

But the Viceroy still hadn’t been able to pin them down and the number of Paladin needed to secure just the geodomes that had been detected thus far was still years away. The operation here was already in snowball mode, but he wasn’t going to produce more population than he had food and equipment for and both of those were lagging behind hatchery potential…which was deliberate. He always wanted the ability to produce more population than needed rather than facing the reverse, but his legions of factories, bioharvest facilities, and mining sites across the planet were still insufficient to give him the numbers needed to quickly eradicate the reavers.

It was coming though, and in the meantime his current Paladin were getting part of the job done while gaining a lot of badly needed experience. When they left this world they would all be classified as Arbiters, himself included, and with victory seemingly all but ensured the Viceroy was worried. Something wasn’t adding up here. There were too many instances of actions that did not fit the reaver profile. Stealing bits of Star Force technology, for one. So far none of it had been recovered in raids and where it had gone to was unable to be determined.

The Archons had told him that trying to get information out of the hive mind itself was useless. They could interrogate individual reavers but they didn’t have access through them to the others in any useful way. Whoever these mystery overlords were they were playing a very good, clandestine game and the Viceroy didn’t think it was over yet. He kept waiting for an ambush to occur, but so far nothing had gone down.

There were a scattering of casualties continuing to dribble in, but rarely any deaths now that the Paladin had learned how to handle the reavers. Keep them from getting into too large a group and they were easy to kill, and within the tunnels they were always confined to few dozen reavers against a handful of Paladin at the front of whatever columns of troops either side had…and that basic engagement was not a fair fight for the reavers so long as the Paladin continued playing tag team and didn’t let themselves get worn down.

Tunnel breaches were a greater concern and had happened on 9 occasions to date, 6 of which had seen magma flows come surging in. The shields and armor on his troops would only protect them from so much heat, and if they got caught in one of those molten rivers they wouldn’t last long. Fortunately no one had suffered that fate yet, but it was always a constant on his mind. Why the reavers burrowed down so far he wasn’t sure, for how could they even begin to guess at what sensor range was?

And Star Force sensor range was far superior to other races’, meaning that if they were doing it intentionally they were going extra deep. While the reavers were impervious to most of the heat they didn’t actually need it. The alchemists said they could survive in a cold weather environment just as easily, so why burrow down so far you put yourselves at risk of magma leakage or compression cave-ins when you didn’t have the ability to construct retainment walls?

Furthermore was the planetary history. According to Vitti records and lore the reavers had attacked multiple times in the past but never on a scale this large. Why was now different? He was certain the limited military the Vittis had would have been enough to easily defeat one of the earlier swarms in their history, and if they were following some cyclical event why was this one so much bigger?

Something wasn’t right here and it was bugging the Viceroy thoroughly. They appeared to be on the path to inevitable victory against an opponent that made no sense and was fighting above their means, and down in the confines of the planet’s crust where naval power couldn’t reach without a lot of shoveling first…

Well, if he was going to ambush himself, he’d do it down there. He just hoped these reavers weren’t that capable.

It took a lot of guesswork and preplanning, but eventually John and Tia were able to find one of the reaver overlords. They’d had to determine the approximate range of their telepathy, then find and study the lines of reavers they used as relays to stay in communication, guestimate their preferred transmission range and margins of safety, then ring the probable location with assaults on distant geodomes slowly isolating a pocket of them in the center and cutting off their lines of retreat save for a few…

The two Archons had hidden themselves in the tunnels, passing through reaver-held areas using their psionics to avoid detection. They spent days down there alone, studying the movement patterns and bouncing from tunnel to tunnel as a surge of evacuees began to be funneled through their area. They weren’t a massive army, for those were staying to fight the incursions, but rather these were workers carrying plants and other forms of cargo. When troops finally showed themselves it was a telltale sign of an escort, and before long a powerful mind came within the Archons’ Ikrid range.

They were in the wrong tunnel, however, so they just observed from a distance where the mind was and what direction it was moving while trying to pull what bits of information from it that they could. It was too large to take full control of, and neither of them wanted to try for fear of giving away their advantage. This far down their comms wouldn’t work, meaning they were literally on their own against the entire reaver army. They could fight through it, but the idea of the reavers blowing out certain tunnels to isolate and trap them wasn’t appealing so they were going to stay as stealthy as possible and that meant not running out into view of the moving convoys.

Fortunately they’d mapped out this area beforehand and they had a few routes around the overlord’s procession to take, but they were a long detour and the rate at which these guys were moving meant they might lose them entirely, and if they tried to push through a crowded tunnel they’d be spotted and the hive mind would send out an alarm so fast that everything within miles would be instantly warned.

With the escort this overlord had there was no way to get to it unless it came directly to them…and it wasn’t. It was missing them by several tunnels and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it, so the master/apprentice pair decided to shadow the group as well as they could, following the flow after it had passed and staying with the rearmost units even when the overlord’s mind got out of range to follow itself.

Then they observed a changing of the guard when they got to a particular geodome. The convoy stopped briefly, taking several hours rest presumably, for the military escort and even the workers seemed to change out with the tired ones taking up duties in this geodome while replacements formed a new convoy and headed out after the respite…which they assumed was for the overlord, else there would have been no need to delay.

When they started moving again John studied the tunnels ahead and made the decision to try and get ahead of them before they got outside the assault ring that was pinning them into this area. To do that they’d have to lose contact with them entirely, but there wasn’t a lot of places for them to go. They’d risk losing them, but aside from trying to fight their way through all these reavers that he was sure would just buy time while the overlord escaped, the best chance they had was to guess where they were going and try to wait on them again.

It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the best they had and the remaining time before this convoy got out beyond the assault ring and had a lot more tunnel options to choose from meant the Archons had to act now.

To that end they broke away from their pursuit and headed off through far less packed tunnels, still having to be careful not to be seen by any reavers that they didn’t have an active mental block on, for even a single glimpse would betray them to the hive mind as they raced to get ahead of the overlord and hopefully find a spot where it would come to them.

They’d guessed wrong again, but this time by only half a mile. Unfortunately it wasn’t a straight shot to get there, and the tunnels around it, including the one they were perched in a side nook on, were full of escorts flowing through and literally blocking any path to the overlord with their bodies as the river of reavers moved onward.

Well, what do you think? he asked Tia telepathically as she clung to the ceiling of their little cutout as the reavers passed by underneath them a few meters away.

I’m sick of missing workouts. Let’s bust some heads and get out of here, with or without the overlord.

Agreed, but we need speed more than anything. Save the head busting until we get closer.

Following your lead.

“Let’s go,” he said aloud as he released his hold on the rocky walls and dropped down on top of the reavers, hitting them with a Fornax field that made Tia a bit wobbly too, but she was still able to function as both of them stepped on and jumped over the disabled enemies and headed up the tunnel with the Archons switching off to maintain the Fornax field so they wouldn’t have to fight and be slowed down. They couldn’t do that forever, and only a few minutes later they were both too tired to risk continuing with Fornax so they switched to using other psionics to trick or disable the reavers enough to jump over or squeeze past them.

They moved parallel to the overlord, who suddenly started moving even faster than before, until they got to a cross tunnel and got over to the route it was taking…but they were now well behind it and there was an army of reavers turning around and blocking the tunnel with their bodies. They formed a wall, linking arms and claws as they stood on each other’s backs so that if they fell they wouldn’t open up any gaps as the reavers behind the Archons caught up and tried to attack them.

“Get behind me!” John yelled as he send her a battlemeld prompt, summoning up his half of a Jini and charging the mental energy as Tia shot multiple reavers coming from behind them.

“Switch,” he called out unnecessarily, holding his energy intact as she took a knee and began to charge hers in a tradeoff they’d practiced many times before. John shot several more reavers but there were too many coming to stop, so his attacks only slowed the wave in the tunnel as the leaders went down and the others had to climb over their bodies, but it gained them a few more seconds.

When Tia was ready he sensed it through their battlemeld and they both pooled their energy together and went through the final linked charging process as the reavers swarmed on top of them…

A moment later all of them dropped to the ground unconscious with the Ikrid bomb effect traveling down the tunnel in both directions as if it was electricity chaining from one to another. The Archons didn’t know how many they’d rendered unconscious, but the wall ahead of them should have been taken down.

Both of them pushed the sleeping reavers off them and climbed to the top of the pile only to see the short section of open tunnel ahead and the still standing reaver wall on the other side.

“Son of a bitch,” Tia complained.

“It’s soft. Punch through,” John ordered as he sprinted forward and dove headfirst into the reavers as he telekinetically sent a wedge of energy ahead to split them. When he hit he squeezed through the first row and into the second, but after that he had to wiggle and shove his way forward while Tia followed inches behind him in the gap he made through the sleeping, living wall that seemed to go on forever.

More than 20 layers later they came out the other side into a carpet of sleeping reavers with visible active ones further up ahead that began to group together to form another wall as soon as the Archons were spotted.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tia said as she hopped over a sleeping reaver and shoved a telekinetic wall forward that knocked one of them trying to interlink arms with the others out of position. The much larger telekinetic shove that followed from John knocked several more askew as the Archons ran up and dove through the hole, then punched and kicked a few more aside before John released several directed Fornax blasts, saving energy as opposed to a full field, and took down individual reavers momentarily.

They weren’t asleep, but their twitching bodies fell to the ground as the pair dove over them and continued running forward and fighting their way through the seemingly endless escorts until the overlord’s mind glowed brightly just ahead, though they couldn’t see it through the reaver walls they kept trying to make to block their progress as the ones preceding the overlord cycled back to intercede.

The Archons noticed this as well, meaning they had to punch through now or face truly endless opposition with limited psionic energy to combat them with. To that end they fought to a standstill and huddled up beneath bioshields as the reavers piled onto them, hacking away with their razor-sharp claws as the pair charged another Jini. When they released it they dug themselves back out of the pile and raced ahead as fast as they could to try and catch up with the overlord.

This time they saw it, but there were still reavers awake between them and it with more spilling back from ahead to increase the number of blockers. Through their battlemeld John sensed what Tia wanted him to do, so he made a telekinetic wall and shoved it ahead of them a few meters, making a brief clear area into which Tia jumped, then John shoved her forward with all his available Lachka power while also forming a Bataf conduit between them that both of them put full power into as Tia tucked her knees to her chest midair.

The result was the padawan being thrown down the tunnel like a cannon ball and knocking aside everything between her and the overload. Her body ping ponged around the tunnel with the impacts, eventually bumping into the tank-sized overload and bouncing back a couple meters. The dizzy Archon unfurled and released the largest Fornax field she could manage in her weakened state and the dozens of skittering legs underneath the huge grub-like reaver stopped moving and it fell to the ground along with the escorts around it.

Tia turned around and planted her feet, connecting another Bataf back to John and causing it to pull rather than push, bringing him up to her where they both started playing King of the Hill and assembling a wall of dead reaver bodies on either side of their captive, not wanting to kill it just yet but keeping that as a backup plan in case they couldn’t hold this position.

8

July 18, 3534

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

“We’ve been discovered.”

The head Ionvan turned and looked at his subordinate. “Explain.”

“One of the superwarriors is progressing through the tunnel network and appears to be on a direct line here. This entire project has been a waste.”

“How many are with him?”

“He is coming alone.”

“Then collapse the tunnels, you fool. And do not lecture me again.”

The walrus-like alien huffed in disgust but said nothing more, turning around on its two thick legs and waddling off to carry out the order.

The project leader watched him go then turned and walked himself over to a control panel where he put on an interface collar that allowed him to see into and through the bioweapon’s hive mind. There was so much of it that it was difficult to navigate, but starting at their own concealed position and moving outward he was able to identify the nearest area of combat.

The thoughts, sounds, smells, and vision of the bioweapon there all came through to him, leaving him to sort out what he wanted to see and disregard. He flinched when the sight of the golden clad superwarrior came into view and shot him in the face, but another perspective replaced it, and another and another as the interloper pushed through their defenses.

His subordinate had been correct. Somehow they had discovered the Ionvan presence. He did not know what could have given them away, but this attack was coming directly for them while the other combat areas were thousands of miles away.

When this operation had begun there wasn’t any outside interference expected. The arrival of some looters was of no consequence, but this fast growing army of superiorly armored and armed soldiers was the very pinnacle of what the Ionvan had sent them here to develop the native race into. Upgrading them into a proper bioweapon and using them to destroy every inhabitant on this planet as a test run had been the goal, but what this ally of the natives possessed was far greater. As impressive as the bioweapon had performed against them, it was nothing compared to these troops. They had landed a single ship on the surface and out of it they had spawned a massive army that only continued to expand in count.

And it wasn’t just numbers. They were building formidable technology and adding to it as time went on. The planet’s surface had been lost to the interlopers, due in no small part to their naval bombardment. That was a necessary weakness, for the bioweapon had never been intended to fight in such a way. What little aerial power the natives had was supposed to be a challenge to overcome using the ground-only forces and the Ionvan had succeeded in that, but there was no stopping low flying warships from blasting everything visible into oblivion.

But their ability to core down deep into the planetary crust with those weapons and reach the cradles was something that had not been anticipated, nor was this fast growing race’s ability to fight so well in the tunnels where the bioweapon should have an advantage. This entire mission was in jeopardy, but on the flip side it was also far more successful than could be imagined as far as the data collected, not just on the bioweapon’s effectiveness but on this new enemy. They had what the Ionvan sought, and even simple observations of their methods, tactics, and equipment were important.

But the greatest prize was the genetic sample they’d been able to claim from a single corpse…or actually not even that. These interlopers recovered their dead quickly, and only a single severed arm had been recovered along with bits and pieces of their unfathomable technology. The genetic coding for this enemy was now in their grasp and the insights already gained from the study of it had advanced their research by decades.

But there was no way to get it off the planet with their ships in orbit. The Ionvan ship that had brought them here was still intact and hidden on the surface, but to avoid leading the interlopers to it they had concealed themselves far from it, repositioning their command and control center deep below sensor level, yet somehow they’d still been discovered.

If it was due to the loss of a control unit then their ability to backtrack the telepathic signals was in question. Already it had been noted that the superwarriors had some sort of powers that could interfere with the bioweapon, though not on a permanent basis. They always recovered, if they were left alive, and right now the local units were all being shifted to counter this superwarrior’s approach and at least delay him getting here.

To that end he saw the bioweapon digging around the tunnels that were endangered and weakening their structure. The individual units didn’t care about their own safety, only obeying the will of the hive mind, and they either died or were trapped when the rock began to shift. Many were crushed, but the five entrances to the section of tunnels where the superwarrior was were sealed off, hopefully trapping it there as well.

He could still see through the eyes of those bioweapons inside the area, though their connective signals were weaker. He immediately dispatched others to the area to strengthen the connection and watched as they were quickly destroyed by the superwarrior. When the last one died he still didn’t know what it would try to do, for there had been no sign of its reaction to the cave-ins. In preparation for the worst, he had bioweapon hordes assembled at all five entry points and other digging teams coring in parallel to those tunnels in order to try and cause a collapse on top of the superwarrior. That would take time, but he didn’t want to leave it alive in there given its unknown depth of abilities.

For the moment they were secure and if they truly had neutralized this superwarrior it would be a great achievement, for there were only a handful known to be on the planet and this one was the most deadly of them all. The fact that it had come after them alone concerned him, and the fact that it had known where they were meant others might as well. He needed eyes on the surface, for if there was a warship incoming to blast down to this depth he needed as much advance warning as possible.

But how were they going to get this information back to the others? This entire mission would be wasted if they didn’t.

Running wasn’t possible, for the naval forces of the interlopers were superior. There would only be a tiny chance of evasion if they could arrange distractions. Multiple surface attacks to draw orbital bombardment to certain areas? Yes, that could work, but the math involved to get to orbit and then to the star was not favorable. There was a chance of success, but it was far too much a gamble, especially when they didn’t know the full engine power of the interlopers. They might catch them before they even made it away from the planet.

Bury themselves away somewhere while they let the bioweapon fight to its death then leave when it was over? That assumed that these interlopers were actually going to leave, and from the signs of construction on the surface it looked like they had not only come here to help the natives but to upgrade them as well. Did he dare risk waiting that long in the hopes of getting a window for escape?

Was there any other choice? They couldn’t fight their way out and the bioweapon was almost useless against this enemy. Underground was their only chance and they were still losing territory. There was a lot of delaying actions that could be undertaken, but there was no way to conquer this planet or even fight effectively on the surface.

But one thing that was certain above all else was the need to make sure this information did not fall into the interlopers’ hands, and more importantly, they had to get what they’d learned of their superior army back to the other Ionvan. Even if it took a century to accomplish, they must make it out.

No. The information had to make it out, not them. Could he seal it away in a capsule to be recovered later while they allowed themselves to be killed as a distraction? But how would the Ionvan know to come get it? There was no way to communicate with them, so if he buried the data away somewhere it’d stay lost and useless…but at least it’d still exist.

No, no…one of them had to get it back, so they either chanced a doomed orbital run or played dead and waited these interlopers out, for he only had one ship to use.

This information had to survive, which meant there was only one reasonable course of action.

They had to disappear and wait until this storm blew over, then hope the interlopers would leave when there was no one left to fight.

To that end he began giving orders to create a new command center far away on the planet and accessible via surface caves so the subterranean ones wouldn’t lead the interlopers to them. Actually, they needed to build inside the taken territory where the enemy wouldn’t look, for if they could track their tunnels now they could track the new ones as well.

Or should they try and hide on the surface in plain sight?

No. If their guesses were right, the interlopers couldn’t detect their smallest tunnels, for they had missed many of them. If they only expanded via those they could hopefully escape and bury themselves away somewhere deep. Very deep. And hope to ride this out.

But building tunnels barely the width of two bioweapons over the course of thousands of miles was extremely difficult. They’d have to pass the ore back slowly…

“The superwarrior is not dead,” his subordinate said upon returning in a flush of indignation. “He is digging out!”

“How?”

“Who cares how? He is coming here and the bioweapon will not be able to stop him.”

“Then delay him by collapsing more tunnels.”

“We are doomed and you know it.”

“So be it,” the leader said, pulling out a small sidearm and shooting his subordinate three times in his thick head.

He looked around at the other Ionvans who had frozen stiff with fear that they’d be next.

“Do your duty and this will not happen to you. We are not defeat yet, but we must delay the superwarrior’s approach. Collapse all tunnels between him and us and get all the necessary data replicated into redundant storage devices. We’re leaving to protect the data and destroying this facility. The superwarrior hasn’t seen us yet. Make sure that he doesn’t.”

When the leader stopped talking the other subordinates took that as the cue to get to work. Orders were sent out through the hive mind overriding those coming from the control units, one of which was nearby. With any luck the superwarrior would be heading towards it, so he ordered it to move off a different direction as bait while they packed up shop.

More and more of the bioweapon signals went out as they worked, and more tunnels came crushing down to the point where the current location of the superwarrior was lost. More and more were taken down and the remaining bioweapons in the area were clustered between the Ionvan and the caved-in tunnels as the masters finished their packing and set the detonators that would destroy their own equipment and keep it from being discovered. Better to give the interlopers no confirmation of their existence and leave whatever deduction they’d made to rumors and imagination, thus an incineration weapon was being used that would destroy any bodies caught in it completely.

Suddenly an alarm sounded and a few seconds later another Ionvan came flying back into the now nearly empty command center through the air and landed on a clean table. The leader heard his back snap as he hit the edge. A few pistol shots sounded outside, but they quickly disappeared.

Grabbing the primary data cell, the leader turned and ran for the opposite exit but never made it all the way there. An invisible force plucked him off his feet and held him midair, spinning him around so he could see the golden superwarrior standing before him with cracked armor and streaks of what looked to be blood, though they were a sickly red unlike anything he’d seen before.

Another Ionvan came in behind the superwarrior and tried to quietly shoot it in the back, but a raised fist sent out some type of shockwave that knocked it across the room where it hit something hard and slumped to the ground out of vision. No shots came, so the leader didn’t think it was still alive, or perhaps not awake, but it didn’t matter. If this superwarrior could survive the cave-ins then what would a pistol shot do?

And what was it doing now? Just holding him in the air with its terrifying powers? It didn’t say anything at all. Didn’t do anything at all. It just stood there looking up at him as he remember the trigger in his pocket. The strain of constriction was around his chest, not his arms, so he darted his flipper-like hand inside and grabbed for it…but the trigger device flew out of his grasp and into the air between the two of them and the superwarrior raised a hand and single finger, then waved it back and forth.

“You die with us,” another Ionvan’s voice said from out of view, then the leader heard the blissful sound of the planned countdown as he was suddenly dropped. He hit a table feet first and rolled off it, slamming his head into the ground and knocking him dizzy for a moment. The other Ionvan lay nearby, his legs inoperable, but he’d managed to climb up onto a console and trigger the self-destruct that only had seconds left on the aborted countdown.

“Good,” he told him as the last few numbers ticked off, then everything disappeared in a painful flash.

The heat was what woke Myra, for it was burning into her arm enough to clear her dazed head. She woke pinned inside her armor with a flurry of warnings flashing on her HUD that quickly told her that there was magma seeping in through the rocks.

A spike of fear flashed through her as she realized her armor was melting on her right elbow, which was the lowest portion of her body, but she couldn’t move it away. Flashing her Pefbar and getting an even bigger headache for it, she saw the rocks pinning her in place as well as the gaps between them. Using her telekinesis she managed to move one aside enough to free her left leg, then hooked her foot around a crack and pulled…but it was no good.

She felt the heat start to actually sear her skin, meaning there couldn’t be much left to her armor, and did the only thing she could do. She put up a Rensiek barrier and tried to block the heat, knowing it was but a stopgap…

“Shit,” she said, mentally causing the armor on her other arm to disengage and peel apart. The heat in the air was unbearable, but she flashed up Rensiek shields across her body as her clothing caught on fire. She only had a few seconds left and nothing else to do, so she channeled as much of the heat that she was catching on her shields to her bare hand…then pushed it into the rock on top of her chest.

Her fingers soaked into it, melting through but at a slow rate. As more of the heat hit her she kept it flowing across her body, burning the inside of her armor but there was no other way. She tried to leverage the rocks off her as the main one melted, but her telekinesis wasn’t strong enough. Summoning one last effort before her heat shields failed and she was cooked, she released a Jumat blast out from the chest of her body and pushed against both her armor and the rock above.

Myra didn’t know what happened, because her Pefbar was gone and her head was swirling, but suddenly she was able to slide an inch as she continued to melt away the rock with her hand. It fell even lower, pinching her armor, but she had enough leverage to push her body out the other side, prying her armor off telekinetically where it wouldn’t release. Myra had to break the neck of her helmet apart to get her head out, but she was able to slide her entire body out of her armor and up between two rocks.

The air was so hot she couldn’t breathe, but putting all her energy into her Rensiek she pressed now bare feet against the scolding rocks and climbed up through the gaps as bright light flared where her armor had magma soaked up through and consuming it.

Forcing her Pefbar back again she found crack after crack and continued to move up, having to rely mostly on her Hamne for oxygen until she got far enough up through the rubble to be able to filter the heat out of the air, choking in the searing breaths and burning her lungs, but it was better than suffocating.

Her clothes were burnt tatters now, but most of her skin remained intact, protected by the Rensiek that she didn’t know how much longer would last, so she kept climbing and avoiding dead ends by scouting ahead with her Pefbar and being so grateful that there was a way up.

Eventually she came to a large chamber, being where the rock from above had come down on the control center. It was now a hollow with thin air, but it was far less hot and a single beacon of hope held out near the top…the sign of a small tunnel as the room suddenly caught a bit of light in the otherwise pitch black environment.

The magma was still rising and a bit of it was showing through cracks deep below her.

With her body shaking from the effort and the adrenaline coursing through her, she leapt from one rough rock to another, landing on bare feet that cut on the jagged edges but not caring so long as she could keep up her heat shields. When she eventually got underneath the tunnel entrance she gathered herself and jumped…coming up a couple feet short and falling back down.

Her foot hit something very sharp and it sliced into her small toe, but she caught her fall and looked around. There was nothing higher to climb on and she’d jumped as hard as she could…but there were loose rocks, so she telekinetically grabbed the biggest one she could and hauled it over, then another and another as the golden light rose along with the heat, meaning the magma wasn’t far behind.

When she picked up another rock and found she didn’t have the strength to move it, Myra decided it was now or never. Perching on top of her pile and on a tiny flat spot she’d arranged, she knelt down on her cut up feet in a crouch then surged her Yetu, letting her Rensiek drop just a little in the process in order to juggle all the psionics. Her feet burnt before they left the rock, but that didn’t matter. She shot straight up like a Jedi jump and came even head level with the top of the tunnel.

Myra shot her arms inside and clawed for leverage, burning her hands and forearms yet still falling backward. A last second Lachka wall put beneath her legs and centered off her head tossed her lower half higher in the air while forcing her torso down, burning her now exposed nipples on the stone but giving her enough weight on the rocky tunnel to keep her legs from dragging her back out.

Myra surged her heat shields again as she crawled forward a few meters, then stood up into a hunched position touching only with her feet. Ignoring the screaming pain she stood there for a moment, focusing most of her Rensiek on her feet while the rest of her was not touching anything other than the hot air. She couldn’t stand up all the way in the tunnel for it wasn’t that big, but the direct heat lines coming from below were now blocked and each step that she took forward saw less and less.

With multiple spots on her body billowing with the pain, she focused solely on moving forward until the air cooled enough to actually make her feel chilled, at which point she stopped and sat down on her butt…one of the few places on her body that wasn’t burned. The rock beneath was rough and warm but otherwise not damaging. Looking at her right arm and the skin and muscle missing from her elbow her mind started to unnumb a bit and the pain began to consume her.

She knew her passive Uzti healing rate would keep her alive if she could just hang on, but the damage was so bad that she tried to use her Haemra and do some minor repairs by forcing tissue to regrow faster than normal. Myra did that on her arm and all the other burned spots on her body, including her left breast that no longer had much of a nipple left.

She didn’t try to regenerate any of it save for the skin, covering up the seeping wounds and conserving her remaining blood as she cried…and cried long and hard throughout the process.

Myra was a basket case and for good reason, but so long as she was even with it a little bit she’d pull herself out of the downward spiral and push on…though for now all she could do was focus on one thing at a time while the rest of her screamed in frantic, painful protest at nearly being burnt alive.

9

July 20, 3534

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

A group of Paladin Constructors were digging into and removing rock from one of the collapsed tunnels while hastati and skirmishers were clearing the open ones when a single word entered their minds.

Help.

The exoskeleton-wearing builders/demolishers hesitated briefly, but most didn’t recognize the word for what it was with all the surrounding noise. The rock wasn’t just laying here easy to pick up…they were having to essentially carve out a new tunnel through it and that meant a lot of grinding and repurposing of the bits and pieces into supports to build a proper tunnel that wouldn’t collapse again, though they were pretty sure the reavers had collapsed this one intentionally.

One of the constructors, a variant of the generic ‘worker’ class, stopped his arm-mounted cutting tool and tried to listen, but the other sounds were too loud to make anything out.

Help.

The word repeated again, but it wasn’t coming from outside his helmet. It was coming from inside his head.

“Stop,” he told the others, some of which had already shut down their machines. The rest followed suit at his command, looking at him through clear faceplates at the center of the exoskeletons that surrounded their working armor. “Be silent and listen.”

The noise in the tunnel fell off, with those workers up the line complying as news spread. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before the word repeated a second time and they all heard it.

“It’s telepathic,” someone else said. “It must be the Archon.”

“But where is she?”

“Their range isn’t unlimited. She must be close.”

Help.

“What do we do?” another asked. There were no Humans nearby to get orders from, and none of the Paladin were telepathic. “She’s not showing up on the battlemap.”

“If she’s using telepathy maybe her comms are damaged or she’s too deep to get a signal through, but she has to be close.”

Up.

The word changed, and with it came a pulsating beacon. Not on their suit’s HUDS, but in their minds, and they all craned their necks up in the same general direction.

“Priority redirect,” the most senior constructor on site ordered. “We tunnel up and fast. No braces. Clear removal.”

With that order the standing Paladin started to move in a frenzy and word was spread to the others via comm. The constructors that had been hauling material out and back up the open tunnel started moving quickly with many more of them coming from another branch some 300 meters back. Everyone in the project started to come here, passing by one another in the small tunnel in organized fashion with a row coming in and a row coming out.

Both sported bins for carrying the rock shards that the drillers were now cutting off fast and not caring how much more dropped as they did. Two in the front had extra heavy exoskeletons that could survive cave-ins and they started cutting into the ceiling as fast as possible, dropping chunks of rock down in as controlled a manner as they could that the others then cut up and pulled away for the excavation train to carry to a transit station further back where a mechanical line would take the debris the rest of the way to the surface.

Help.

The word kept repeating along with the telepathic impulse every so often, but the voice in their heads didn’t say anything else. That was odd, as was the fact that the call was for ‘help’ and not an order being given. It’d been more than two days since the Archon had snuck her way ahead of the combat lines to infiltrate the reaver base and they’d lost contact with her. When the tunnels had been collapsed it was speculated that she might be stuck on the other side or maybe buried alive.

Given how powerful Archons are you never knew what they could or couldn’t survive, but regardless she had gone out of comm and tracking range and they hadn’t heard back from her so they’d continued with their standing orders. They were to clear the tunnels and secure any and all reaver territory. That meant digging through the collapsed tunnels while fighting around the blocks into adjacent areas. The constructors had been summoned from the surface to take care of the former with hastati waiting nearby in case they broke through into areas with live reavers.

The constructors themselves could fight, as all Paladin had the memories for, but they weren’t armed in the typical fashion with their digging exoskeletons on. They weren’t exactly vulnerable to the claws of the reavers unless they had time to gradually scrape through once they piled on top of you, hence there needed to be armed hastati nearby to push back that pile if and when they made contact.

But the troops could do nothing to help the diggers, so they stayed back in the nearest chamber wide enough to hold them so to not block tunnel access for the workers who, bit by bit, dug upwards clearing far more than a tunnel width as more chunks of rock fell down. Rather than try to brace them with new construction they just broke them down into smaller bits and removed them up the ant-like line, excavating a large chamber that had a ramp for a floor.

It looked like a small mountainside by the time they broke through into an airspace at the top, which they quickly recognized as the remains of a detonation tunnel the reavers must have carved over the main ones in order to drop the rock down and seal them.

The constructors sent word back for the hastati, but they didn’t wait for the troops and crawled up into the long wide cave, seeing huge chunks of rock poking up at jagged angles and a very dirty and armorless Human lying on an angled slab and barely moving. She had no clothing at all on, but there were visible scabs on various parts of her body and her hair was missing in several places, though there was no mistaking the image of that pale Human skin no matter how much dust was covering it.

The Paladin scurried over to her on all fours, careful not to dislodge more rocks as they came up to her, not sure what her condition was, especially when she didn’t speak and her face didn’t look quite right.

Water.

“Dehydration,” one of them said, cracking open his exoskeleton and walking out of it before taking his helmet off and feeling a wash of hot air on his face. “I don’t have much left, give her yours too.”

The other Paladin began taking off their helmets while the first constructor pulled out a short tube from the neck of his armor as he carefully crawled up next to her.

The Archon’s hand came up in a cupped position and he triggered the water release with a pinch of the mouth nub he normally bit to bring up the liquid from a small pouch in his armor that they used to extend their working hours without having to cycle back for supply or relief, and all the Paladin knew better than to gorge themselves on it, else they’d have to break off their work duties to empty their bladders.

That meant between all of the Paladin there they had a decent amount of water left, but when the first of them squeezed a bit of water into her hand she didn’t put it in her mouth. Rather she just held there like a statue, her eyes glazed over and barely moving, until one of them noticed that the water in her hand was disappearing.

“Is that evaporating?”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s absorbing it.”

Water, she repeated when it was gone.

“Give her as much as she’ll take. I think this Archon is damaged. Get the closest medic here immediately.”

The little tube only stretched a foot and a half at max out from the neck of their armor, but it was enough to get another few drops into her hand that likewise soaked in far faster than they should have, but the Paladin kept supplying her with water until his ran out, then another took his place and kept filling her up as the first of the hastati arrived.

“Your orders, Archon?” one of them asked as the others crawled further down the rough cave in order to establish a perimeter once seeing that she was without armor and vulnerable.

Water, was the only word she’d speak, and not physically. It was always telepathic.

“She is near death from dehydration,” one of the hastati said, looking at her closely. “Her tongue is probably swollen and blocking her throat. I don’t know how she’s taking the water through her hand, but keep giving it to her until a medic arrives. Do not try and move her.”

“She’s been burnt in multiple places.”

“Not from here. It’s hot, but these rocks aren’t scorching. Any chance that’s acid damage?”

“I can smell burnt flesh,” the constructor with his helmet off and slowly feeding her water said.

“Magma burns,” another guessed. “Archons can survive intense heat. I think her armor and clothes didn’t.”

“What else can we do?”

“Stand beside her and make sure no rocks fall,” one of the hastati said. “We’ll make sure no reavers can get here, but we do need an assessment of the chamber and any connecting tunnels. This entire area looks unstable.”

The constructors quickly split up their responsibilities with several creeping around her on all fours with their bulky exoskeletons, ready to form an arc over her if necessary if any shifts in the rock occurred. How she’d gotten here or where she’d come from they didn’t know, but without her telepathic call for help they would have tunneled right under her and missed this makeshift shaft entirely.

It took a long time for a medic to get to her, for there were none within miles given the length of the tunnels, and when a group of them did come, carrying all sorts of portable gear, they found her in the same statuesque pose…lying naked on an angled slap with her right hand perched in the air and her elbow resting on the edge of the rock, with the constructors still dripping water into her hand.

“We are here, Archon,” the new Paladin said as he crawled up to and replaced one of the constructors in the inner ring around her. He attached a small circular device to the side of her head and suddenly got a plethora of readings on his helmet’s HUD indicating how and where she was damaged.

“Massive nutrient depletion,” he said, with another medic digging into a pack of supplies. “I think she cannibalized parts of her body to partially repair these wounds. Her tongue is swollen, so she can’t eat. We’re going to have to inject.”

“She’s been taking water through the hand,” a constructor said.

“The hand?” he said, seeing a newly placed puddle disappearing. “I…don’t know how that’s possible.”

A canister was passed up to him and he put his confusion aside as he placed the pointed end of it against her neck as gently as he could and emptied its contents directly into her blood stream, with her stats jumping almost immediately as the nutrients were spread throughout her body.

“She’s low on blood,” he said, with another canister already being passed to him, for the other medics were seeing the same stats on their helmets as he was. He went to inject the synthetic blood supplement but the Archon moved, shocking everyone. Her hand fell to the ground and her body curled up in obvious pain.

“Shock release. We need to knock you out, Archon. With your permission?”

Myra didn’t say anything. Not even a telepathic peep for nearly thirty seconds before the medic made the decision. The next injection caused her to pass out, and it didn’t even take the whole vial to do it.

“She needs to be carried back by someone out of armor. Her body has taken enough damage as it is.”

“I will,” one of the constructors who had already donated his water said, pulling apart his own armor and walking out into the hot, dry air and feeling the rough rocks on his feet. “Strap her on.”

The medic looked at him oddly, then understood.

“Good idea,” he said, getting all sorts of things handed to him that he used to attach a medical cloak to the Paladin’s back like a saddle, putting as much stuff under it as they could to make a mostly flat platform onto which they picked up and laid her body. Another cloak was spread over top of her like a blanket that would shield her from the excessive heat, then that cloak was strapped down with her body in between the two layers and her head resting on a pad placed on the back of the Paladin’s neck.

“She’s secure. Follow us.”

The medics moved back to the ramp-like incline that the other constructors had been working to smooth out in preparation for her move with her carrier crawling in quadruped mode with her body strapped to his back and only her head being visible. He moved carefully down the incline, trying to keep her from sliding out of position on his back, but when he got to the bottom of the rock pile and onto the smooth floors of the recently reconstructed tunnel he picked up the pace, finding a way to run with the awkward pack as the medics led the way with hastati preceding them to make sure the path was clear.

Then the impromptu honor guard started making their way back through the long tunnels and up towards the surface, some 28 miles distance just to get to the nearest Paladin subsurface outpost that held a full medical station.

10

July 24, 3534

Tekin System (Rim Region)

Plataro

Myra was posed in a shaky handstand when John and Tia found her onboard the warship’s sanctum, her burns gone and her muscles rebuilt, but clearly her composure was off after her near death experience. None the less, she’d called for them and they’d delayed their underground campaign until they could get back, not wanting the Paladin to go up against the toughest resistance without their assistance, though lesser assaults were still ongoing.

“Myra,” Tia finally said when she didn’t notice their arrival outside the meditation chamber.

The word knocked the titan off balance and it took a sharp leg kick to pull her back in alignment, which she held a few more seconds before rolling her legs down in a controlled manner and standing up. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly as her fellow Archons waited for whatever it was she wanted them for.

“The reavers were acting under orders.”

John frowned. “Meaning?”

“Not the hive mind,” Myra clarified. “I found the people manipulating them and they blew up themselves and their facility with me still inside it.”

“Who?” Tia asked.

“They’re called the Ionvan and they’re very powerful. Not on our level, but this entire attempted extinction of the Vitti was an experiment. A weapons test. They found the reavers and upgraded them, using the hive mind to add additional commands lost in the mess of signals that hid their presence. A lot of the reavers’ tactical skill was coming from them, and now that they’re gone we shouldn’t face as much resistance but we’re still going to have to take them out. I got the feeling they wound them up so tight there’s no coexisting with them, and whatever means they were using to influence them were destroyed.”

“That explains the block in the overlord,” John said, finally connecting the dots. When he and Tia had captured and then killed their 7 overlords to date, they’d never been able to take full control of their minds in order to likewise control the other reavers through them, and it was due to an impulse in the overlords that fought the Archon’s orders. They’d tell it to do something but it would deny them, for there was a greater influence inside them, and it having been designed rather than naturally occurring made a hell of a lot of sense. The overlords had two ropes pulling on them and cancelling each other out, and if that other rope still existed, bred into them, then they weren’t going to be able to change anything with further attempts.

“Who are they?” Tia asked again.

Myra shook her head. “I didn’t get much, but they’re a very widespread race that keeps to the shadows. There wasn’t a colony here, only a research team. They have a ship hidden elsewhere on the planet and I need you to find and capture it if possible. I think it’ll be empty.”

“How are you doing?”

“Shaky.”

“We could see that.”

“I can fight if needed, but I’m weak.”

“We’re winning,” Tia commented. “How fast we win is up to us. Take your time. Did you learn anything else about these guys?”

“They’re basically Spectre.”

“What’s that?”

“Bond movies,” Myra said, seeing that John caught the reference. “They don’t have visible territory to go after, not much anyway, but they’re working behind the scenes to exert their power. I don’t know how much, but they’re definitely a region-wide power with tendrils going out to a lot of different places and conflicts. They’re not someone we can take lightly.”

“How big a threat?” John asked.

“We’ll know more when we find their ship, but their biotech is significant and their lair was well built. I don’t think we have to worry about them here anymore, but elsewhere they’re going to be a problem and not in a direct way. I think they’ll work around us rather than punch us in the nose, and that’s going to make Randy’s efforts that much harder.”

“What do they look like?”

Myra sent visuals into their minds with Tia cringing.

“Ugly mothers. Don’t look too tough.”

“They had a self-destruct that did all the damage.”

“We should try to get another overlord,” John suggested, “and confirm whether or not their influence over them has been weakened.”

“If you want to try, go ahead. But get their ship first.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Hidden on the surface. I’ve got an orbital sensor scan going, but so far nothing obvious is showing up.”

“We’ll find it,” John promised. “Now, tell us what happened down there?”

Myra shrugged. “I moved out ahead of the Paladin, snuck into their lair, then found their leader and had him Vader-choked in the air asking him a few questions when he tried to use a self-destruct trigger in his pocket. I got it away from him, but another one of them used a control panel that started a short countdown. I ran, but didn’t get far enough away and the whole place came down. I was trapped in the rubble with magma seeping in and barely wiggled out, losing my armor in the process. Luckily I found a maintenance tunnel, or whatever it was, and worked my way back towards the Paladin. When I got within Ikrid range I called to them and they dug me out.”

“And?” John pressed.

“And I was hurt pretty bad, but I nearly died of dehydration. That’s not a pleasant way to go.”

“How close?”

“Too close. I’ll admit, I’m still rattled from it. I keep thinking through what I did wrong, and the only conclusion I can come up with is that the Ionvan were planning to blow the place before I got there to cover their tracks. They didn’t set that up for me. I got in cleanly and then…” she said, trailing off with her vexation showing on her features. “Never let anyone tell you that Rensiek is overrated. It let me survive when my armor didn’t.”

“Noted,” John said, not wanting to have to find that out for himself someday.

“So you think the reavers will just keep attacking even without someone prodding them on?” Tia asked.

“I do. I got the impression they were designed to fight autonomously. Release and kill without any oversight needed, but with a backdoor control mechanism to protect the owners and to allow for modifications if things didn’t go according to plan, such as our arrival here.”

“A quiet little backwater world with a high population to practice on,” John said with a hint of anger.

“Why’d they come looking here anyway?” Tia asked. “If the stories of the reavers are true, then the Ionvan didn’t bring them here. How’d they find them?”

“I don’t know,” Myra admitted. “My interrogation of them didn’t last very long.”

2 years later…

Randy sat on a swampy plain, his armored butt resting on a half rotted log as he ran through status reports in the field as his Clan Star Fox troops were finishing rounding up wounded Jadshiga and taking them prisoner. The fighting hadn’t been intense, but there had been a lot of it and he hadn’t been able to sleep in the past 32 hours and wouldn’t be able to for several more, needing to stay on station in case more of their burrow worms were still nearby. The biological tanks had a habit of pushing up through the muck right beneath your feet and took a lot of firepower to take down.

Right now Randy’s psionics were the best early warning against them they had, so while he kept his Ikrid peeled he rested on the log and reviewed updates coming down through the battlemap and into his armor’s HUD, including reports from a variety of worlds that were still off the growing Clan comm grid. Patrols would go around to them, checking in periodically and exchanging information packets that he was now reviewing, including one from Tekin that was disturbing.

What had been a natural disaster in the making with the reaver uprising had since been determined to be a weapons test by a previously unknown race not native to the planet. Their research team had killed themselves with a self-destruct along with the Archon that he’d sent to lead the planetary rescue effort, though somehow she’d been able to pull herself back from the brink of death. An addendum indicated that she’d been off combat duty for 8 months afterwards but had returned to the fight for the final 3 month push that had eradicated the reavers entirely from the planet.

Well that was good news…the latter part anyway. As he read through the mass of data he saw that they’d found the ship the Ionvan had left behind. It hadn’t been destroyed in their base’s self-destruct because it was on the surface, not buried deep within the crushing rock of the planet where orbital sensors couldn’t find these guys. The camouflage technology of the hangar was disturbing, but nothing that Star Force hadn’t encountered before. An adjustment to the standard Star Force sensor package was included with the data along with the recommendation that it be implemented fleet-wide in order to detect hidden Ionvan assets.

Why that would be necessary Randy wasn’t sure until he got through the full report, having to remind himself to keep on the lookout for burrow worms as he found his split concentration fading. From the brief telepathic interrogation Myra had managed before she got her ass blown up she’d identified the Ionvan and their modus operandi…they worked with and manipulated other races across a large region without having defined territory of their own. They were a shadow player, and the Spectre metaphor included seemed to fit aptly.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered, pulling up a tiny starmap on his HUD and starting to highlight systems where he’d already encountered unusual resistance and problems. He didn’t know for sure if this was due to the Ionvan, but in his spare time he’d been studying reports from the other 2s and had started to think he’d gotten a tougher region to handle than most of them…yet he didn’t have any obvious cause for the bulk of the instability arising. Opportunists were there, certainly, but it seemed like worlds that should be stable enough were getting enflamed and going after each other without cause.

If there was a silent player involved it explained a lot, and the fact that they were using the Vitti race as cannon fodder to test their reaver bioweapon suggested they intended to use it elsewhere if it proved successful, and that was one headache Randy was glad his team had prevented, for there were enough worlds dying as it was that he couldn’t save for lack of resources. Some were being exterminated, others conquered or enslaved, while a great many others were simply unknown to him. He had scouts everywhere, but there was simply too much territory to keep watch over with the limited number of ships that he had and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

He was winning the battles that his Clan was engaged in and creating small ‘safe’ pockets within his assigned region in addition to holding onto all of Teowan and Neenan territory. Those two had been headaches initially, but since he’d got them locked down and able to hold their own defenses for the most part, his Clan was somewhat free to troubleshoot in other areas while most of his Paladin were gathering resources to feed all concerned.

If there was a shadow player involved, and a major one according to his report, then he didn’t have vision on all the enemies capable of doing his two major races damage. These Ionvan could even be operating inside Teowan or Neenan borders, and that worried him. He had things hanging together by a thread right now, knowing that the longer they did the more stable they’d become, and the more noise he could cause with his Clan the better, for it would distract or intimidate others from attacking the other races, but if there were…

Something clicked in his mind and he suddenly stood up, dismissing the reports from his HUD and getting on the comm to his ships in orbit. As soon as he was finished fighting burrow worms here and the prisoners were secured, he was bugging out and heading for his Clan command center in Neenan territory.

“I have never seen tis before,” the hulking Neenan General told Randy when the Archon showed him an approximation of what they looked like, “but tis ship is familiar. Several were captured from black market dealers who claimed to have salvaged them from an orbital battlefield.”

“Yes,” Randy agreed. “That was what caught my attention. Those ships were not part of either side of the battle and were found destroyed, but empty in the aftermath. What does that suggest?”

“They were stripped by salvagers.”

“And no bodies?”

“Not all salvagers desire technology,” the General said gravely.

“A fair point,” Randy conceded. “But given the camouflage technology that we recovered in their intact ship, they could get within close sensor range and not show up on either of those two races’ screens.”

“You are suggesting they got caught in the crossfire?”

“I think so, then their surviving buddies cleaned out the ships of everything they could without being able to tow them away.”

“And the significance of tis?”

“If they were in that close proximity to the battle it had to be for a reason.”

“They were attempting to manipulate the outcome…”

“How many missing ships do you have?” Randy asked the Thing-like General whose skin looked more like green rock than flesh and stood twice the Archon’s height. “How many unexplained losses of power, vanished supplies, dead personnel? How many instances of things going wrong in supposed ‘safe’ areas that remain unexplained?”

The massive triped ground his three fists down into his three hips. “You are saying we are already under attack by a foe that refused to show their face?”

“It’s a significant possibility, and if these Ionvan aren’t responsible directly they may be aiding others who are. There is definitely a shadow war going on, and I am worried that it may be designed to weaken the Neenan from the interior enough to allow for a major overt attack from the outside to be successful.”

“Sabotage?”

“There are many different forms, but yes, and looking at the map there are three big possibilities.”

Randy adjusted the Star Force hologram that the General and six other Neenan were standing around looking like trolls with the tiny Humans and Kiritas clustered and moving around their feet.

“The Traae, Miplekwe, and Sbiv are not strong enough to take you…not on their own and definitely not with Star Fox assistance, but if several of these border worlds are weakened they could penetrate quite far individually. Two of them could do significant damage if they attacked without worry of their own future. If all three coordinated…”

“We could hold the line,” the Neenan said firmly, “but not if we’re compromised from within, and without knowing who our enemy truly is we can’t calculate where to reinforce and in what quantities. We either overcommit and bring your Star Force troops back out of fear or we risk spreading ourselves too thin, sufficient to guard against the visible threats, but perhaps leaving us vulnerable to the hidden ones.”

“Well said, General. That is exactly my concern.”

“How do we counter tis threat?”

“To start with, we’re going to quietly upgrade your sensors to be able to detect these Ionvan ships. If we have time to work with, and I really hope these guys are patient enough to give it to us, then we watch and see where they are going. We do not intercept them and tip our hand. We watch and learn as much as possible.”

“To see the strength of the hidden.”

“And where they are probing. If we learn that, then we can quietly start moving against them while making preparations for a major invasion…or whatever else might be coming our way.”

“How do we fight those who hide in the shadows and refuse a traditional fight?”

“With Archons,” Randy said simply. “A lot of Archons.”

Capitulation

1

October 18, 3542

Paquat System (Trinx Region)

Vikod

“I am impressed,” the Chamra envoy told Oni-081 as the pair walked along an elevated bridge that spanned a giant artificial canyon within an enclosed Trinx city with hundreds of the red-skinned, twin headtailed aliens walking about in Star Force civilian garb, “with the fact that you’ve been able to completely integrate them. Are there really no dissidents?”

“None,” the trailblazer confirmed to the cyborg.

“How is that possible without some form of control?”

“Most of the Trinx you see were born after the annexation. Those that were not had to earn their way here.”

“And those that didn’t?”

“They are all dead by now.”

“How so?”

“Gradual degradation.”

“Old age?” he asked, with his cybernetic processors handling the English neural translation as well as if he spoke it naturally. “Trinx typically lived more than 400 years. Some should still be around.”

“We shut down the facility 52 years ago when the last of them died. They were told what they needed to do in order to achieve self-sufficiency, but they had no will to try. All those who did made it out are living amongst the general population, but there has been no dissent from them. I think they’re just glad to be here.”

“How many killed themselves?”

Oni frowned. “We don’t make it easy for prisoners to do so, but we’ll only go so far to keep them alive if they’re trying to die. Many did kill themselves in the beginning, and a few down the road when they lost the will to live. Between rotting to death and self-strangulation, I’m not sure which is worse. But there was always an out for them if they chose to take it, and we made sure they all knew it.”

“You cannot force people to choose, else it no longer becomes a choice,” the Chamra said as they continued to walk along the very lengthy bridge, underneath which were multiple levels with shops and restaurants, though the pair had chosen to walk up top. Below the bridge was the Trinx cityscape, Star Force in design but with a unique flair to it that had a green motif that clashed/complemented their skin color depending upon who you asked.

“I sense disapproval.”

“I disapprove of us ever having to turn against one other. The war should never have happened.”

“Their leaders at the time felt otherwise.”

“I know isolation is an effective technique that you use, but the thought of dying without ever seeing another of their kind feels cruel. Not on your part,” he clarified, “but as fate would have it, they would have been better off dying in battle.”

“Except that some who were staunchly opposed to the annexation changed their minds over time,” Oni countered. “You never know for sure if someone is going to learn or not until you give them the chance.”

“Have there been any that have turned back once they earned their way in?”

“None that have come to my attention. If they have dissentious feelings they keep them to themselves, though I can guarantee you that they did not have them when allowed in. A mental scan is performed on each individual just in case they are faking, and it has happened, but those individuals had to learn our way in order to fake their way in and in the process actually ended up at least partially converting, though that wasn’t their original intention. There are many pathways the original Trinx have tread to get here. Giving them the opportunity was our responsibility. Their ultimate fate was their own.”

“You take far better care of your prisoners that many civilizations do their own citizens.”

“Is that a rebuke?”

“I question the thought process, not the results. You have done better here than we anticipated possible without some form of mental alteration.”

“Training is mental alteration.”

“Compulsory,” the cyborg amended.

“Is it compulsory for you?”

“The augmentations? We’re born with them.”

“No live births I take it?”

“We’ve modified our reproduction to occur externally in chambers that mimic Chamra bodies, as well as have modified our genetic code to accept and expect mechanical components. The birthing chambers supply the most basic of these during development. Further augmentation occurs on an individual basis over the course of one’s lifetime.”

“By choice?”

“This hybridized state is something we are born into, Archon. It is natural for us. Why would we not want to upgrade ourselves over time?”

“Self-sufficiency.”

“We accomplish more our way…or at least I believed so before encountering your kind.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“No. While you appear to be immortal, your maintenance is high and most of your population does not share that state. You have people dying from old age continuously, true?”

“We don’t force people to train past the maturia state, so yes, not everyone obtains self-sufficiency.”

“And those that do, lose it if they don’t continue to train?”

“Eventually, yes, though it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Most things are. Chamra have unlimited lifespans because our components can be replaced, both hardware and biology, with one supporting the other during the swap out. And our entire population is equal. We do not have deaths aside from accidents and combat fatalities.”

“How often do you have to ‘swap out’ body parts?”

“When something grows weak or fails entirely new cells are forced to grow to replace the old. We have medical facilities to handle this, but I have not needed one in the past 50 years. It varies between individuals according to wear and tear and your compatibility rating.”

“Your biology fights the technology to some extent?”

“Minimally. But as you’ve mentioned before, half of us is product rather than person.”

“How far can you go?”

“We’ve lost people in the past that tried to remove too much tissue. They shut down all but autonomic functions and become a shell.”

“I’d be interested in any files on that that you’d be willing to share.”

“Are you considering augmentations yourself?”

“No and we never will. Such things are banned within Star Force.”

“You penalize cyborgs?” he asked with obvious disdain.

Oni shook her head. “Not for having cybernetic augmentations. We penalize those that sell them.”

“And if someone would provide them for free?”

“We won’t provide them with equipment or parts to do so. If they manage to fashion their own we won’t punish them, but we will confiscate the materials if we find them.”

“So if I were to emigrate to your Axius faction, I would not be able to repair my damaged components?”

“We’d assist you with what you needed, but we wouldn’t let you expand upon them or reproduce in your stated way.”

“What is it you fear?”

“There’s no instruction manual for biology, and when you mess with it you usually end up screwing something up.”

“My people have gained considerable knowledge in the practice, and the fact that we have unlimited lifespans without utilizing your self-sufficiency should be proof that we know what we’re doing.”

“You focus on the gains, but what about the losses?”

“Of personnel? Accidents do happen, but we prefer to learn from the mistakes rather than to stop experimenting.”

“We don’t allow such experimentations, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. Do you ever wonder how much your biology is hindered by the augmentations?”

“No. It serves its well-known function.”

“And what if there are secrets that lie buried that have to be unlocked over time and training?”

“Would not such things be visible in the genetic code?”

“A person is more than just a genetic code, which is why you can’t produce people in a factory the way you do replacement parts.”

“Isn’t that what your Li’vorkrachnika do?”

“No. They’ve factorized the reproduction process. Totally different.”

“How, exactly?”

“The genetic samples that they are grown from have to originate from another lifeform. They can’t be synthesized. Replicated yes, but not synthesized.”

“The Lethboryi conundrum. We are familiar with it.”

“Then you explain.”

“A person is more than the sum of their parts, with some unseen aspect to them that is not present when parts alone are created. This is why a fully mechanical Chamra is impossible. We do not understand why, but we are aware of the fact.”

“And with that uncertainty comes the question of what else might be hidden from view,” Oni pointed out. “Perhaps things that your augmentation blocks.”

“One cannot know if you’re missing something that is unseeable.”

“My homeworld once thought people had a limited lifespan. That we were destined to grow old and die and that there was nothing we could do to stop it. Some even speculated that we could extend that lifespan by creating mechanical replacements for certain organs, but doing so would interfere with self-sufficiency because of the inherent inefficiency of the combination. They didn’t understand this at the time, but their efforts to work outside the natural design caused a limitation. Perhaps there are more limitations occurring that you are not seeing.”

“You suggest we revert back to a fully organic state?”

“I suggest that Star Force isn’t going to pursue the same course in order to keep open whatever hidden possibilities there might be.”

“And you intend to probe them with further training?”

Oni smiled. “Exactly. Work from the user’s perspective rather than trying to pretend you’re on the level of a designer.”

“And no one knows the origin of life, or the universe itself.”

“Which is why it’s best not to meddle. Exploration is wiser.”

“Well argued.”

“Yet disappointed?”

“I had hoped to open up an exchange with the Trinx. Some of them used to welcome limited enhancements.”

“I know. We had to deal with those in the prisoners.”

“You removed them?”

“We had to alter our training standards around them, but we did remove them from those that wished it and regrew their natural tissues.”

“I’ve heard you had such technology. Is it as efficient a process as you make it sound?”

“Our medical technology is far superior to what the Trinx originally had.”

“So are most other aspects of your civilization, though you don’t make a habit of showing them off as much as others would.”

“Meaning what?”

“You conceal your power in most cases, and don’t reveal it until a need arises.”

“And what do ‘normal’ civilizations do?”

“They boast and often claim more than they can produce.”

“Star Force is inherently tuned to the truth. Bragging is one thing, but making unwarranted claims is a good way to destroy a reputation for honesty that has given us considerable negotiating power.”

“Indeed it has. Many races trust you where they would not even approach others. Which brings up a request I was instructed to pass along.”

“You want a system,” Oni said matter of fact.

The Chamra rotated its head and single artificial eye towards her as they continued to walk next to the railing, over which they could see down several hundreds of meters to the cityscape below.

“A guess?”

“I can read part of your mind, then guess from the context.”

“I did not think that was possible. Either your powers are more considerable than other telepaths or I have a vulnerability that I was unaware of. I’ve shunted most surface thoughts into my mechanical components to avoid such invasion.”

“Your emotions are not. And connected to those I can backtrack into certain memories. I registered a prerequisite level of importance and compared it to other accessible memories. From there, unable to find a match, I guessed.”

“Thank you for being candid.”

“We don’t fear strength. If we’re lacking we improve rather than try to hobble our opponents.”

“Some would call that arrogance.”

“Arrogance is stating that you are more than you are.”

“Recklessness then.”

“Better to get in the habit of facing opponents directly than to rely on guile to see you through every situation.”

“But you reserve the option?”

“Of course, though most of the time you won’t even realize we’re using it.”

“I think we have much to learn from each other, Archon.”

“And what do you have to teach, Chamra?”

“We wish to establish a deeper relationship with Star Force, specifically the Trinx. Your territory has become a communal point for more races than anywhere else within our mapping range, and you manage it all with a steadiness that is worthy of being mechanical. Your ability to control the Uriti is impressive enough, but the way you’ve handled the political firestorm that surrounds it says a great deal more about you. Though we are already allies of a sort, we wish to further relations, and we have a long history with the Trinx that we’d like to expand upon.”

“To what end?”

“We have no immediate goal. We simply believe that you are worthy of our attention and investment.”

“Investment?”

“We are not asking for a system, we are offering to pay for one within the boundaries you define as the Trinx Region. And though we had hoped to extend a market for cybernetic enhancements, even without that there is much unseen potential that we believe we should explore with you.”

“You have no contacts with these Trinx, so where is the connection?”

“They have been brothers in common cause for a very long time. Though they have changed, we still hold to that brotherhood.”

“Right now I am the Trinx.”

“Which is why I am speaking with you.”

“We are a long way from your territory. Establishing trade routes there will be difficult.”

“Which is why we wish to establish a colony from which we can interact.”

“Others of The Nine have already done so. Why now and why come to me?”

“They seek economic strength and political position. Those are not our primary concerns.”

“Even purchased systems under our territorial umbrella must follow Star Force general protocol.”

“Of this we are well aware.”

“I don’t want to have to fight a war with you if you change your mind later.”

“The example you have set with others has been long lasting. We would not enter into such an agreement if not willing to abide for it in perpetuity.”

“What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“A great many things.”

“There’s something important,” Oni insisted. “Something I can only partially sense.”

“Things that cannot reach the ears of the general population,” the Chamra said, eyeing the Trinx around them on the bridge.

“Give me your hand.”

The cyborg did as instructed, though he did not understand the reason why. Oni grabbed the metallic limb and slid her hand up until she touched the patch of flesh exposed on his forearm and gripped it firmly.

Can you hear me?

“Yes I can.”

Speak only in your mind.

Are you able to hear my thoughts?

It seems I have been able to establish a bridge.

My internal diagnostics indicate subtle alterations are being made in my tissues. How are you accomplishing this?

A latent power that we discovered via training, and it is something we do not advertise to the public along with a lot of other powers. You may speak freely here and those around will not hear.

An organic comm relay via physical contact. No telepathic signals in use?

No. You can register such things?

I have the ability. It helps to identify who is attempting manipulation in diplomatic environments.

Useful. What is your concern?

The Nexus is destabilizing.

We know.

It is more than events involving your acquisition of a segment of their territory. The Sety have spoken for a vast expanse of the galaxy and are unable to unilaterally command it. They grew their power via forming an alliance that shared technology and was bound together by one undeniable purpose.

To protect one another.

That bond has been broken, and the sacrifices being made to sustain what they have are fracturing the allegiances within. The removal of the constructs given to you have been seen as a betrayal despite the temporary nature of the withdrawal. Even when the replacements arrive it will not satisfy the Uque, who had no say in the decision. The Sety are growing desperate and pushing their allies’ wishes aside in an attempt to save the mass of their domain…but at the same time they are threatening the bonds that hold it together and we fear it may fracture completely given sufficient impetus.

We speculated that not all was well between the member states, but we had not heard rumors of anything that significant.

We know the Sety as a peer. They know them as a ruling faction that offered peerdom via allegiance, but now that they must make drastic changes they are doing so unilaterally and unwittingly weakening the whole. We have advised them of this mistake, but they see no other way. Their expansion into your territory is but one small part of a larger plan they have to defend The Nexus, and we have advised them where we could to strengthen it, but we calculate the odds are less than 30% that they will succeed. Probability is that they will be forced to forfeit regions and member states in a far less civilized manner than they have done with you. If and when that comes to pass, it may incite a resource grab to prevent the Sety from claiming priority ownership.

Troublesome, but how does it involve you?

The Nexus falling will destabilize a power structure that spans a quarter of the outer rim. What will happen if it falls is unknown, but we would prefer to shore up our existing alliances prior to that potentially happening.

You fear a storm is coming.

We are working with the Sety to avoid it, but we fear they have overreached in the past and are now paying the price for their arrogance. The Chamra control all Chamra territory. The Sety control a small fraction of theirs. You have incorporated other races into your civilization, but done so without weakening yourself. You are stronger for it, and if anything can be learned from you we wish to know it.

You want to study us further?

We want to interact with you for a number of reasons, and that is one. We also want to know what is occurring here and relying on secondhand information is not preferable. Better to have a piece of our own on the playing board that can report back…and one that can potentially come to your aid if you require it. Our basic premise is that you are worthy of greater interaction and that the loss of your civilization would be a negative influence on what stability is left. Our mere presence with a system in your territory will send a message that certain other civilizations will take notice of.

You fear your enemies are growing bolder with the weakening of The Nexus?

We do not fear it, we know it. The Chamra will maintain our territory, but we do not have the strength to step in and replace The Nexus. If chaos is to ensue, we would prefer to have stable regions firmly establish to work out from, and establishing a link into yours would be a small step in that direction. Our relationship with the Trinx is an ancillary factor, but a preferable one.

“I understand,” Oni said, releasing his arm as they neared the far side of the bridge and the long promenade that ran the length of the cityscape canyon with multiple others above and below on different tiers. “We can discuss price later, but your request is granted. Did you have a specific system in mind?”

“No, but the larger the better. We will have to develop it from local resources but we want to grow it into a significant foothold, not a hollow presence.”

“Atmosphere?”

“None required. Size and resources are the pertinent factors.”

“Let’s find a starmap and have a look,” Oni said, but the Chamra stopped walking and faced the railing. The trailblazer stopped as well, only to see him generate a holographic starmap out over the dropoff several meters wide.

“That works,” she said, seeing the whole of the Trinx Region displayed before her. She pointed her finger at a specific subregion. “Zoom in here.”

2

May 1, 3543

Ottark System (Occupation Zone)

Kiik (Meintre relocation hub)

The Star Force cargo jumpship came out of its interstellar jump against the larger of two stars in the binary Ottark System, decelerating at the head of a small convoy of six nearly identical ships, but it didn’t wait for the others. Though this system was owned by a foreign power there was no danger here and the nearby fishhook-shaped warships were standing guard to make sure that it stayed safe.

The jumpships weren’t the only traffic currently transitioning through stellar orbit, for there was a nearly continuous flow of vessels coming from the nearby Grid Point Stargate, and most of those were Meintre transports carrying equipment and people out of The Nexus to Kiik where they were all being sorted and assigned work/living slots in the new colonies. At present they had four systems with considerable inhabitation and two more with bare bones facilities supporting work crews readying them to accept additional workers.

Moving an entire civilization, even one reduced by warfare, was a monumental task. The entirety of the Meintre race was coming here eventually, and it wasn’t because they wanted to. Their sector within The Nexus was being slowly overrun, so rather than stand their ground and die or try to evacuate to somewhere closer that didn’t have the resources to take them in, they’d struck a deal with Star Force to relocate here beneath their protective halo of warships arguably more advanced than those now guarding this system, not to mention the sheer intimidation factor coming from an empire that had tamed the Uriti. That alone would keep some enemies away, for fear of seeing one of the massive beasts arriving in their home system to destroy it…despite promises by Star Force to never use them in such a way.

But they had the capability to if they changed their minds, and the very public and well documented history of their wars since the inception of their empire made it clear to everyone with half a brain that Star Force didn’t make threats it couldn’t back up…and they’d vouched for the protection of the Meintre and everyone else living within their empire’s domain. This system was owned by The Nexus, but it was surrounded by Star Force systems and that put it within their domain on a very widespread and often chaotic starmap, for one couldn’t draw lines across ground where there was no ground, but every system that had been tagged as under Star Force protection was publically known so there would be no misunderstandings.

Anyone that came here looking for trouble would have to deal with the thousands of Meintre warships guarding it, then one call through the Star Force comm relay grid that was connected here via an orbital facility on the very outskirts of the system would bring nearby warships to their delayed aid. No one could fight the Meintre with Star Force so close nearby unless they came in with overwhelming force and the Meintre collapsed quickly, but they were not a weak nor a young race and knew well how to defend themselves, despite the mismatch they were encountering back within The Nexus.

This system was bottled up tight enough that Star Force would have no problem pouring combat fleets in here before too much damage was done if the call was made, and that double layer of protection was why this cargo convoy hadn’t been assigned escorts. They only had 8 jumps to make to get here, and given such a short distance and the jumpships’ superior speed, the gigantic armored behemoths could move about freely and leave the warships free to go where they were more needed.

And they were free to move around this system as well, for they were bringing in badly needed exterior resources to help spur the growth of the system, all of which was originating from a series of Kiritak colonies within the Occupation Zone. The Meintre were paying for the cargo and Star Force was supplying them with as much as they wanted, but most of the building here was the result of local productivity. The Meintre needed specialized items and raw materials from Star Force, the kind of which didn’t occur in this system or were hard to get at…such as corovon and solari, the latter of which the Meintre had no current means to procure on their own.

That would have limited their building to inferior facilities and a few higher caliber ones constructed with whatever solari they could import from The Nexus, so the nearby availability of the Star Force markets was a great asset, especially when Star Force had extended a dedicated branch out into this region of the Occupation Zone specifically to supply them with resources.

The Sety had set up and brokered the deal for the Meintre, but since their arrival they’d been dealing with Star Force directly and had begun to grow their own independent relationship with them…and they hadn’t been disappointed. Rather they’d been overwhelmed with the professionality and efficiency of their empire, not to mention the reasonable prices of the resources being offered. Others would have jacked up the costs to make an obscene profit, but Star Force was merely asking for compensation for the work they were doing in their place and the Meintre were grateful for that along with the Star Force defensive umbrella backing them up as they brought their vulnerable civilian population in one ship at a time.

When the arriving cargo ship transitioned into orbit of Kiik it didn’t find a waiting Star Force starport to offload into, nor a Meintre equivalent. Rather it dispersed its own fleet of dropships and larger transports when needed directly down to the surface of the planet and began unloading with four of the others while the fifth headed for an orbital shipyard to deliver materials there.

Most of the crew of the cargo ships were Kiritak with a scattering of other races mixed in, meaning that it was the short, diminutive race that was piloting the ships down through the atmosphere and into the waiting aerial escorts of the Meintre, who screened for them against the curious and the dangerous, though most foreign ships never made it past the blockade around the stars, scared off by the present of the fleet even if they did have navigational options to get here.

When the Kiritak landed and opened their holds they began hauling the various sized crates out onto conveyor belts that pulled them inside loading docks for nearby trains. A few of the Meintre came out to oversee the offloading and take inventory, though the Kiritak tried to stay at least a few meters away from them at all times…for they were huge and walked awkwardly. They stood several meters tall and had thick bodies that sported six heavy legs. Their heads were more massive than an individual Kiritak and they had four tentacle trunks drooping down that they could breathe through as well as lift objects with.

They were reminiscent of elephants, but heavier. They looked hard to kill, but not capable of traditional combat. That said, the Kiritak didn’t want to get anywhere near them when they were mad, for a single footfall could crush one of them…and the same went for an accidental step in the wrong direction.

The Meintre further back and barely visible inside the train loading facility wore mechanical harnesses that had robotic arms that latched onto the crates and lifted them where needed, and the Kiritak could see them hauling more than one crate at a time as they walked across the open-topped platform where the trains would park. There were multiple rail lines stacked on top of one another with platforms off each and an elevator system connected to the conveyor belt that fed into what was suspected to be a sorting facility, but wherever they momentarily disappeared to the Kiritak didn’t know because it wasn’t visible.

As they had done numerous times already and would continue to do round the clock for the coming days, the Kiritak offloaders would bring the crates out via anti-grav sleds and sometimes a small mech when necessary, load them onto the conveyors, and swap manifest lists with the Meintre watching. Accounts would be balanced and electronic currency released for each accepted shipment, then the dropship would leave empty and head back up to orbit to reload and make the trip all over again.

Before this jumpship was empty another convoy would arrive, and then another and another, giving the Meintre a constant stream of supplies that traveled out on the trains to various locations based on what the cargo was. Raw materials were sent on a line to the north that joined with others coming from multiple offloading spaceports and linked to a massive industrial area that would mold and create the various products that the Meintre needed to build with, combined with the natural resources being collected and processed on the planet.

More trains would leave that area and travel to construction sites while others carried various types of plants being bought from Star Force to accelerate the growth of the Meintre’s food production facilities. Those were located towards the west and southwest and were the fastest growing construction sites on the planet, as was necessary to feed the gigantic aliens as they poured in from convoys that were depositing their living cargo in other locations.

Those evacuees traveled by train as well to immigration centers where their identities were logged into a system designed based on a Star Force model. It was all of Meintre construction, but given Star Force’s experience with moving entire populations and their continuing influx of refugees from across this corner of the galaxy, they’d sought out any advice that would make their own relocation run more smoothly but had created their own technology for the task.

Individuals with useful skills were sent to work camps immediately while those too sick, young, or otherwise damaged were sent to the south where the bulk of the ‘useless’ population was stowed away. No one was going to be left behind willingly and the Meintre were evacuating those planets most at risk first, which meant their available workforce here was largely randomized and a hurdle to overcome, which was why they had programs already underway to help heal, train, and develop individuals in the ‘useless’ population to the point where they could do at least one task of value, at which point they’d be moved to ‘regular’ colonies in the east.

That same geographical structure was used for the 18 import locations on the planet with each filling out more and more as the years passed. Export locations were mining colonies supplying the Meintre with the raw materials they needed and were often temporary constructs, many of which were located in a nearby asteroid belt and sending their own stream of dropships down to export spaceports.

Altogether it was a crisscrossing mash of people building, growing, or just living interconnected almost exclusively using trains. There were so many rail lines covering the inhabited portions of the planet that it looked like someone had taken a page out of George Jetson’s universe, but it all functioned extremely well, with the Meintre making good use out of the resources they collected and paid for to grow their infrastructure enough to keep up with the evacuation quotas. Only so many ships were available to carry people out, and that was the amount of immigration the Meintre here had to maintain in addition to new local births.

The Meintre were long living, but their birthrate was even lower than Humans. That meant from a civilization standpoint that the loss of population in the warzone was far more of a crippling blow than for other races, and to counter that vulnerability the Meintre had adopted a defensive persona, both in attitude and technology, with them boasting some of the strongest planetary shield generators within The Nexus…against which their enemies were nibbling away, but at least that protection gave them more time to evacuate their people before they were overrun.

And had it not been for the newly activated Grid Point Stargate, the evacuation convoys would not have been sufficient in number. Now the out and back timeframe was reasonable so long as they could acquire enough carrier berths in the network, for which the Sety had already made arrangements, due in no small part to the fact that the Meintre were not just being evacuated to get them out of danger, but in order for them to reset themselves and then to start growing a warfleet that could return to The Nexus and aid the others in their fight to stabilize their crumbling alliance.

The Meintre had promised to do so and no one doubted their word on that. Give them enough time and resources and they’d build a fleet that was very hard to destroy, but one that was less suited to offensive missions. That, ironically, was exactly what The Nexus needed now, for there was no real discussion about retaking lost worlds. The goal was to hold onto as much of what they had as possible…then if they could do that, and truly stabilize, they could think about going after their enemies and taking back the worlds that were stolen or had devolved into anarchy in the chaos.

The Meintre were badly needed, but not so much that the Sety and others would come to their aid in force to help them hold onto their current worlds. The Meintre were not happy about that at all, but they had no choice in the matter. This was the only viable alternative proposed to them and they had to take it, but now that some of them were here and getting used to the situation, they were finding it preferable. Not in the loss of their worlds, but in the fact that they had a real guardian to watch over them rather than the failed promise of The Nexus.

Some speculated that Star Force’s promises might end up being hollow as well, but their efforts to take the nearest regions of The Nexus under their own protection and try to stabilize them, with the Sety’s blessing no doubt, was a signal that Star Force’s home territory wasn’t in jeopardy…and that’s exactly where the Meintre were setting up shop, as were the Gfatt and Albos. Even the Sety had a few worlds already established in another portion of Star Force, and it was widely held common knowledge that this was the only real source of stability available to The Nexus.

Moving their entire population here and forfeiting their current worlds was an insanely bad idea, but given the alternatives it might prove to be a good thing in the long run. Should they have stayed and fought with assistance from other Nexus members that never materialized they could have been fighting a no-win scenario. Here they were free to build without having to deal with attrition, meaning that time was on their side so long as they could get all their people out in time.

But the sight of their most developed system out of the four they currently inhabited was incredibly demoralizing to the Meintre as they arrived. This was literally nothing more than a large refugee camp, not a home, and that wouldn’t change for a very long time.

Building up an entire world, let alone a star system, was something that took many generations and an incalculable amount of hard work, dedication, and perseverance. Everything that they’d accomplished in the past was being forfeited by the evacuation, and that gnawing distaste was eating away at the Meintre in a mix of futility and anger. Anger at their enemies, certainly, but also anger at the Sety for not having organized The Nexus better. For there not to be enough ‘safe’ regions to pull assistance from to help the besieged ones was…well, it was borderline treason.

The Meintre hadn’t failed in their task outright. They’d held on to their territory up until the word of weakness had leaked out and the Verrma had chosen them as their target. The Nexus had never eliminated the enemy within their domain because of their strength and a policy of containment was enacted while other threats were being dealt with.

Now that policy had backfired royally, for there were no reinforcements available to come to the Meintre’s aid…or at least that was what they’d been told. Some Meintre doubted the total truth of that, but there were reports of invasions and rebellions across The Nexus, so at the worst it couldn’t be a total lie. Never the less the promise had been broken, and the responsibility for that lay with the Sety. They were not the entire Nexus, but they were the heart and driving force behind it.

The Meintre would do their duty and come to the aid of their fellow members when able, for that was the way they operated. Their word was their bond, and even if they hadn’t been supported when needed they weren’t going to return the lack of support. If the day came when they were able, they’d send forth a fleet and do what they could to confront the instability seeping through The Nexus like a disease…but there was no longer any good will with the Sety or the other major members. The trust had been broken, and the Meintre felt they were on their own in fact if not in name.

And if Star Force didn’t hold to its promise of protection, the excessive vulnerability the Meintre now suffered from during this transition would be the death of their race…which was why they were so pleased to see that promises were being upheld, at least during this initial phase, and the Meintre were getting the chance to put down new roots that would see them growing stronger year by year going forward.

If it lasted. And with the Great Promise already broken, the Meintre had no illusions of anything being as stalwart. They’d been let down once and they were losing every world they’d ever possessed because of it, and that bitterness would permanently reside in the Meintre going forward.

3

June 20, 3543

Solar System

Earth

Rio ran out of a surface cupola on the surface of Atlantis with the doors telekinetically flying apart before he rolled out at an easy cadence. They shut behind him and he took a hard left, ‘jogging’ along the length of what had once been the location of a long since removed runway. Now it was a much wider landing pad split up into segments with buildings sitting in the middle of what had originally been the longest airstrip in the city when the trailblazer had first arrived here well over a millennia ago.

Atlantis had changed a bit since then, but it was still his home and the other trailblazers felt the same way. Right now though most of them were out doing important stuff while he was on permanent vacation, though he was still running Clan Rwby from afar. His duty to Star Force now was digging into his dreams and dragging out as many Tier 4 psionics as he could. That meant he did nothing but train, train, and train some more. He’d learned early on that his dreams occurred more frequently when he was pressing his limits…so that’s exactly what he now did on a regular basis, and as of three days ago he was now the top ranked Archon.

He was pleased with that, but also sore about it. Morgan was busy prepping to prepare Star Force’s defense against a possible Skarron Crusade and Paul was out in the Rim Region desperately trying to save as many people as he could from the failure of The Nexus to control their own turf, with neither of them being able to train 24/7. Even Rio’s Clan duties occurred when he was on brief rest periods, with every moment that he could spend in action being so. Even now Rio had on a headset that he could use to handle administrative duties while he was doing an ‘easy’ workout in between harder sessions.

That easy workout had him jogging at 18 mph and ducking into narrow streets between buildings as he made his way from one landing pad to another, zigzagging across the cityscape that most people never came up to. Most of the city was internal, and those who didn’t need to go topside usually didn’t given the humidity this time of year. Rio actually liked it, and even as he was running easy in a T-shirt and shorts he was sweating a bit that would gradually escalate until he was thoroughly drenched.

He ran for an hour exactly, not caring where he went, and ended up in front of a building that handled flight pack rentals. There was a sparse crowd inside, all of them Star Force personnel, for the tourists of old were no longer allowed in Atlantis. This was simply a perk of living in the city that had off duty personnel flying with anti-grav backpacks up and over building tops in a particular sector that wouldn’t interfere with the light ship traffic coming and going from orbit and other locations on the planet. In fact, Atlantis was a lot calmer than most cities, for those who were here tended not to be visiting. Hence they lived here and there wasn’t a lot of non-cargo flights in and out, with most local travel being accommodated by rail lines on the ocean floor that connected Atlantis to its nearest twins.

Most of the oceans were now full of cities that blanketed the seafloor. Some rose up to break the surface, but the vast majority were fully submerged and Atlantis was plugged into them via a transit grid hidden beneath the water. With that and occasional dropship or mantis flights coming from far off places, only a dribbling of orbital cargo and personnel flights remained, leaving the surface of the city a low key and almost lackadaisical place.

The ocean around the city was the same, with a lot of recreational facilities that were packed on good weather days like this. Rio kind of wanted to hop on a jet ski or put on an aqua pack and go out to play, but he wasn’t going to waste time on that when he had a job to do. People were dying out on the frontier that he could have been helping to save…but the problem was there would always be that need. There would also be one more thing the Archons could do, and if they let themselves think on those terms they’d never get around to doing things that were needed to plan ahead. Archons lived in the moment but they couldn’t afford to get lost in it, and Rio’s mission here was definitely forward looking. Already Vortison was studying the two Tier 4s he’d unlocked and developed, hopefully one day to be able to trigger them manually.

But unless he could find the hidden ones too, someone had to access them the way they were designed to be earned, and that someone was Rio. His skills climbing to the top Archon spot were an extra bonus, and while he was competitive as hell with the others…and had sent Morgan an appropriately mocking message…his real fight was with the future and the hidden gems the Zak’de’ron had hidden within his genetic code.

When he stopped outside the flight pack shop he glanced around and smiled at those few people that took notice. He crossed his arms over his chest and activated his Yen’mer, rising up slowly into the air without having to get any equipment of his own. He waved sarcastically before he got out of view, then he accelerated and flew up overtop the building before veering off from the safe zone and cruising out over one of the landing pads with a dropship currently coming down from altitude.

His biological anti-grav wasn’t that strong yet so his acceleration was limited, but he had more than enough strength to lift his own weight. Flying up near the dropship as it slowed into a hover several hundred meters up, he waved at the pilots then made a quick loop around the Dragon-class craft that was a bit challenging, but worth it. He angled off and let the dropship continue its descent, then he moved laterally and crossed Atlantis until he got to the far edge, suddenly seeing blue ocean well beneath him.

Knowing he couldn’t press his strength too far, he let himself slide down at an angle until he was over top the jet skis and flew over one of the obstacle courses where Sara still had a few of the records, the rest of which a bunch of second gen Archons had gone after and plucked from the trailblazers. They hadn’t mounted a decent challenge to retake them given other priorities, but those running the courses now weren’t that good. They were just personnel out having fun or working on improving their own marks.

He didn’t interfere more than visually, coasting along in an upright position and waving to various people that freaked out seeing him there, then freaked out again when they realized he had no flight pack on. His ability to fly wasn’t officially known by anyone outside the advanced training group, but there was no great secret in it and Rio liked flaunting the ability for the simple reason that it would make people flip out that weren’t in the know.

But eventually he leaned forward and flew superman-style horizontally out past the recreational courses and into open water. He came to a hover there some 60 meters up and scanned the water for minds. Finding nothing close, he placed his palms together at the base and opened both Choratrik ports in the center of his hands, igniting a fiery blue plasma from both that melded together into one small ball that he shot down towards the water and pushing more in its wake in a line that never made it to the waves.

It dissipated into hot unglowing air before it hit, making a few wind ripples on the surface but nothing more. Rio frowned, finding himself a very poor substitute for Goku, but still, he was the only person who could do this, possibly ever, unless the Zak’de’ron had Zen’zat that had unlocked both these psionics. There were no records on them so it was impossible to say, but even if they had they wouldn’t have known what Goku or Dragon Ball Z was, so he was for sure the only person in the history of the universe capable of trying this homage.

He summoned up the plasma again, but this time when he formed a ball he grew it rather than releasing, with his hands having to pull back to accommodate its width. He held the plasma within energy fields, both to guide it and to contain most of the heat, but some still leaked out and he could feel it hit his face. He didn’t need to throw up a Rensiek to shield himself aside from what was already around the orb, but it did testify to how much of a beastly bioweapon he’d developed.

Resisting the urge to say the words, he released the ball and threw it towards the water, seeing it shrink as the outer layers cooled and dissipated, then it ballooned out when it passed beyond his control range. The blue dot mushroomed but stayed somewhat intact by the time it hit the water, eliciting a huge geyser of steam that shot straight up and sprinkled his sweaty clothes with salty ocean rain.

Rio laughed, both at his inability to do a full Kamehameha and the fact that he was literally able to do a partial one. Who would have ever thought that particular anime could ever be something other than pure fiction?

Well now it wasn’t, and he was digging his newfound powers enough to stay here and throw some more plasma balloons into the water, but his flight muscles were starting to get tired. If he didn’t want to swim back to Atlantis he needed to head there now, so he tipped over into a more aerodynamic position and began to accelerate, suddenly realizing he was more fatigued than he’d thought. He wasn’t going to make it all the way back, he wagered, so he found one of the jet ski paddocks and landed on the lagoon-like artificial island amongst a sea of scantily clad Star Force personnel waiting for rides.

Jaws dropped everywhere, but Rio brushed off his flying in as inconsequential and sat down on a nearby railing with his back to a couple of girls waiting in line on the other side.

“Who are you?” one of them asked, with Rio turning around innocently.

“Name’s Yamcha,” he lied. “Have any of you seen Bulma recently?”

Both shook their heads, unaware of the fact he was totally punking them out, but so be it. If they didn’t know DBZ then they deserved it.

“How did you do that?” a guy asked just ahead of the girls as everyone, including a couple of chicks on jet skis that circled back and were floating nearby, stared at him.

“Have you heard of psionics?”

“You mean you’re an Archon?” a guy said, suddenly turning to the girl standing beside him. “Can you do that?” he asked her.

“No I can’t,” the acolyte said, though without anything more than a very defined six pack to separate her from the other personnel, for none of them had uniforms on, or much else for that matter. “What Tier?” she asked Rio.

“Four,” he said with a wink.

The pink pigtailed Archon raised a matching eyebrow. “I thought there was only 3.”

“There’s a fourth, but I’m the only one that’s been able to break through to it. Flight is a power, but I’m still not very good at it. Thought I could make it back to Atlantis, but needed to stop here and recharge a bit.”

One of the girls on the jet skis shouted at him. “Do you give rides?”

Rio laughed. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Can I get first dibs?”

“You’ll have to wait a few more decades. I can’t lift twice my body weight yet.”

“I’m light,” she argued.

“Not light enough. I’m still a wimp.”

“Yeah right. What’s your Archon number?”

“058.”

Somebody further back in line slipped when he said that and a guy slid down the short embankment into the shallow lagoon, though few even bothered to look at him with a trailblazer in their presence.

“Really?” someone else asked.

“Really,” Rio confirmed. “I only need a few minutes, then I’ll be on my way. Don’t let me hold up your runs.”

“As you wish, Captain,” one of the girls on the jet skis said with a sarcastic salute, but as she spun her watercraft after in a twirl Rio grabbed her with a telekinetic grip and yanked her off it, flying her through the air over to him and landed the bikini-clad chick down on his lap with an appropriately startled giggle coming from her.

“Archon,” he corrected her. “Not Captain.”

“You do have magic,” someone else said nearby as the girl was too happily flustered to say anything else as Rio looked into her eyes from a few inches away.

“Not magic,” he said, twisting his head around, “just really cool science. Pretty much the same thing though.”

“Archon means single, right?” the girl on his lap asked, whom he quickly identified as a computer tech thanks to the skin to skin contact that allowed him to get past Jennifer’s Ikrid block.

“Permanently single,” he said with a hint of regret. “But someone has to bear the responsibility of being total ass kickers…and you can’t do that when you’re getting fucked up.”

“Word,” the acolyte said approvingly.

“So why am I sitting on your lap then?”

“Just being friendly,” Rio said with a smile. “But I’d better put you back before someone steals your ride.”

“You sure?” she asked, pouty faced.

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“Alright,” she said, rolling her eyes mockingly. “If you must.”

“Find me in 20 years and I’ll give you that ride,” he promised. “The aerial one, anyway,” he added as he sensed a different thought coursing through her mind.

“I’ll hold you to that, Yamcha.”

“His name is Rio, newb,” the acolyte said with mock disgust as she floated through the air and landed back on the pommel of her jet ski, then Rio hopped over the railing and took a few steps through the crowd to the acolyte.

“That it is. Thanks for noticing, babe,” he said, leaning in and kissing her on the lips, then he pulled back, smiling as deviously as she was, then dipped down slightly to flex his legs into super jump that sent him up above all of their heads where he caught his weight with his partially recharged Yen’mer and floated there for a moment, waving to everyone below, half of which waved back while the others were still laughing with most of the guys wishing they could steal a kiss from the Archon and get away with it.

Knowing his strength was still low, Rio didn’t hang around and accelerated away from the paddock, reaching a decent speed as he angled up to the much higher elevation of the top of Atlantis. He really had to fight to keep his effort up the last minute, but he reached the edge and dropped down on top of the nearest roof he could get to, landing in a crouch that he stayed in for a moment as his burning flight muscles protested that last little push he’d made to avoid losing his coolness by falling short and taking a dive in the ocean before making the edge.

He stood up a few seconds later and turned back, seeing the paddock he had been on as a tiny dot in the distance.

“Whoo,” he said gratefully. “That was too close. Sorry Goku, I still suck. I’ll work harder.”

With that half sarcastic promise he ran across the rooftop and jumped down several stories over the far side, braking his fall with a telekinetic crash bag rather than stressing his flight muscles again, then he was off and running back to an entry point that would get him into the city proper and over to the advanced training group’s private sanctum for his next ‘real’ workout in the High Gravity chamber.

4

April 4, 3545

Jec System (Rim Region/Zargor territory)

Inner Zone

Brad-050 stood on the bridge of his command ship just in front of his seat watching the hologram of the system before him. His Protovic fleet was in enemy territory along with some Clan Sangheili battle groups and the Jec System held 4 highly populated Zargor planets that he was inspecting as his bridge crew worked furiously. They’d just arrived in the system and were analyzing everything as the Sangheili were keeping the Zargor busy near the third planet.

They’d been here several months already, but Jason didn’t have enough ships, let alone troops, to take out this stronghold so he’d been having them raid it continuously. Shipyard production had been reduced by more than 30% as a result and only large convoys were making it in and out, but Star Force needed to remove this thorn from their side and that’s exactly what Brad and his Protovic were out here to do.

His Clan Beyond wasn’t out here holding territory like the 2s and some others were, rather he was here leading a massive Protovic force that was operating independently and going after the bad guys rather than waiting for them to make their move. Already the Protovic had been responsible for the capture of 12 systems and the destruction over 43,000 enemy warships, but they were just getting warmed up and this assault is really what Brad had come out here for…an enemy that wouldn’t yield and a major system to nut punch.

He could have been standing in his command nexus watching all the information in mind’s eye, but that wasn’t necessary. His crew knew what they were doing and right now they were just gathering their fleet as it was coming out of convoy jumps. His calm demeanor was reassuring to the Protovic, who took it as a compliment. They’d been fighting with him for a while now, so there wasn’t much that surprised them other than the fact that he wasn’t commanding from a Clan ship. He was here with them and they grew emboldened to have the trailblazer onboard. The only Human in the fleet at all, but he felt just as much at home here as elsewhere and the Protovic felt the same about him.

He’d created their civilization from the scraps of ancestors that Star Force had collected from across the vast expanse of space and now they were a force that no one would take lightly…not to mention they had the best combat record of infantry warfare out of all the factions, Humans included, and that was not a feat that anyone had pegged them capable of given their ‘youngness’ compared to the Calavari or Bsidd, but what they lacked in muscle mass or multi-tasking capability they made up for with telepathy.

Archons were more powerful, and the Protovic couldn’t take control of a mind given that the structure of their psionic was different, but when all of your invading army had that power it made for a very different type of warfare.

Right now thought that didn’t matter, for they were in space and not on the ground…yet, but they were going to have to fight their way down through some tough defenses in addition to the defending warfleet and the sure to be reinforcements whistled up and on their way by now. If not, the arrival of the Protovic would give even a fool reason to demand help to safeguard this key system, for without it a significant chunk of the Rim Region was going to be off limits to the Zargor unless they wanted to go the long way through risky jumplines where Star Force and others were prowling and waiting to ambush passing ships.

From this system there were jumplines going out in six different directions on the ‘safe’ Zargor network, and even as Brad’s fleet had come in they’d seen ships avoiding the fighting with the Sangheili and just transitioning around the star. Take out this system and throw up a decent blockade and the Protovic would be protecting dozens, if not hundreds, of worlds that the Zargor just wouldn’t be able to reliably threaten due to the geography involved.

But beyond that, the Zargor just needed a bitch slap. They knew they couldn’t fight the elusive Star Force fleet head to head in the massive battles outnumbering them that they sought, and if they pushed into the really well defended worlds such a battle wouldn’t go well for them. They couldn’t bait Star Force out like they’d been doing to other civilizations, so they were just spamming in all directions and not carrying how many troops they lost so long as they were achieving most of their objectives and doing damage. Between the strategy involved and the attitude of the few prisoners they’d taken, the sense of arrogance was overwhelming. Even when shown superior skills they still denied that they were inferior and stuck to the promise that they would eventually be victorious and this piece of what had been The Nexus would be theirs to dominate and rule over from now to infinity.

Star Force had taken worlds from them already, chipping away at their supply lines and support bases, but the Zargor were still playing this as if they couldn’t be hit back. That their own territory wasn’t an issue and all they had to do was attack until the enemy crumbled. All offense, no defense.

And pretty soon, having so much of their fleet spread out into attack campaigns was going to get painfully obvious as being a flaw, for Brad was about to hit them in the jugular and wreck a system that had belonged to them for more than 20,000 years, dating back to the very beginning of their interstellar empire. Their homeworld and capitol were not the same, as most races’ were, with the Zargor homeworld only 118 lightyears away from Jec. If hitting them here didn’t send the message, then that’s where Brad would be going next.

And they’d either have to pull back their offensive fleets to counter him, or let the trailblazer cut a path of destruction across the interior of their empire…which was exactly what he intended to do while the rest of the trailblazers played the defensive game, figuring that he could provide more ‘defense’ by keeping the Zargor distracted. Star Force could only throw so many ships into systems to defend, with the Zargor able to mass a fleet and hit them where they had few because they could choose their targets, but now Brad was choosing the battlefield for them and they were going to have to fight here against the mass of his fleet or he’d simply move from one important system to another and knock them all out.

Either way, the bulk of the Zargor invasion was coming to an end.

“Level 4 defense shields deploying, Archon,” his Admiral said from a nearby chair where he was reviewing intelligence data being relayed from Sangheili scouts spread across the system.

“Where?”

“Their largest world.”

Brad adjusted the main hologram and zoomed in to its orbital map. The planet was twice the size of Earth and had a gravity of 1.7 g. That wasn’t too much for his Protovic to handle, but it was more to the liking of the giant wolf-like race. They were bipeds nearing 8 feet tall and had the musculature to match, giving them an advantage in the higher gravity…or so rumor said.

Right now there were already some defense shield domes up across the surface of the dry planet, giving it far more land area that most worlds. There were only a few pinpricks of lakes on the yellow grassy plains, though more than half of those were full of infrastructure. Those basic defense shields had been up ever since the Sangheili had arrived, but as some had suspected the Zargor were not so weak. They’d been keeping the true power of their worlds hidden, but now that the Protovic had arrived with over 1200 jumpships they were bottling themselves up tight in order to make sure that nothing could get down to the surface to stage a ground assault.

Brad spun the hologram around, seeing that the new shields were not domes. Rather they were flat and intersected at angled lines, making for a far less aesthetic protective barrier, but a far stronger one. Flat shields were better defenses than round ones due to the way the energy matrixes were constructed, and it looked like these had been built for maximum deflective power.

“I wonder if they always had these or they built them specifically for us?”

“There are notable alterations, even if they aren’t new construction,” the Admiral pointed out, throwing a matrix analysis over to an adjunct off the main hologram that appeared beside Brad’s left arm.

“Hmmn. They have been studying us.”

“That’ll delay our establishing a foothold enough to be troublesome if they also have the anti-orbital weaponry to back it up.”

“Agreed. What about the other 3 planets?”

“Patchwork protecting certain regions. The fourth planet has water access not covered by shielding at all.”

“Sloppy. Maybe they didn’t expect we were coming.”

“The Nexus doesn’t have much in terms of aquatic warfare.”

“Well we do and we’re going to exploit that breach before they get a chance to pop up some temporary shields. Begin drawing up invasion plans for the fourth planet, hot drop.”

The Admiral didn’t bother even looking at his bridge crew, simply issuing a telepathic order given his ‘yellow’ ranking. All the bridge crew, ship’s crew, and troops were ‘pink’ level, meaning they’d reached their final form and had the complete set of Protovic psionics. Yellow was a color alteration with no additional powers, but it was a very hard skill level to earn. Having it meant the Admiral had a good command of his telepathic powers and the fact that everyone else on the ship were pinks meant they could talk back and forth without comm channels over short range with ease.

It was something that Brad had gotten used to, so he didn’t call into question the lack of visible orders being given, trusting that the Admiral would get the right people on the job as soon as possible.

“The Sangheili are requesting immediate reinforcement,” the comm officer said rather than relaying the time delayed transmission, for it hadn’t been sent specifically to Brad but to the Protovic fleet.

The Archon switched the hologram over to the 3rd world where the Clan fleet was and took a quick glance at their positioning. At first he didn’t see any reason to call for help with the poking/containment formation in no real danger, then he spotted the opening. It wasn’t something the Zargor would see as a weakness because they didn’t know the capabilities of the Star Force fleet or their tactical playbook…and there was a very big opportunity to take advantage of if they acted quickly.

“Admiral, we have to move. Sound battle alert throughout the fleet that has arrived and leave a message buoy for the others coming in. We can’t wait.”

“What do you see?” the Admiral asked as he issues orders to the crew.

“They don’t know we can curve jumplines.”

The glowing blue/yellow face studied the main hologram as he walked over next to the Archon for a moment, then he tentatively pointed at a cluster of defense stations holding position outside a vast shipyard complex.

“Here?”

“No,” Brad said, walking into the hologram so that the shipyard marker was inside his head as he pointed to a spot on the surface of the planet. “Here.”

“The elevated shield is beyond the atmosphere,” the Admiral said coldly.

“They think it’s covered with the underlying shield overlap and the defensive blockers in orbit, but they’re using straight line navigation. They want their ships to be able to come and go without opening windows for us to shoot through, but they’ve left a huge hole for us to exploit without knowing it.”

“Looks like a tiny hole to me,” the Admiral said disapprovingly.

“You don’t think we can make it?”

“I’ll defer to your judgement on that, but it’s not something I would attempt on my own.”

“Their shields can’t reset altitudes fast with that shield matrix, and if they try they’re going to lose better than 80% of the deployed strength in the transition.”

“Which is why we need the fleet…all the fleet,” he said, suddenly understanding.

“Bold enough for you?” Brad asked sarcastically as the command ship he was on suddenly made a microjump headed for the planet in question.

“How sharp a curve can we manage?” the Admiral asked, looking at the navigator this time as he mentally fed him the specifics.

“With that moon, quite a bit. Running the numbers,” he said as he the glowing face turned back to his work station.

“We need as far inside as we can get, preferably over the clear zone,” Brad added as he let the entire bridge crew see the plan with a few holographic drawings on the main display. The jumppoint they were headed to in orbit was marked with a dot, then a straight line came out of it in past several defense stations then headed for a part of the planet protected by one of the big level 4 flat ones, but the straight line curved slightly as it passed the stations, angling to the right with a steeper curve as the relative position of the moon changed. It was a guess on Brad’s part, but he had the curve end underneath the elevated shield and over top the gap between the lower side shields where ship traffic was coming up and down at a pedestrian pace.

“I want this if we can make it work,” he announced. “And I think it’s just a matter of picking a slow enough approach speed. They won’t see it coming, but we’re going to have to move fast before they can react. I need drones released now and put on individual decel runs. We can’t wait to deploy and I don’t want to try and squeeze the jumpships inside. The command ships should fit, but I’d prefer not having to plow through civilian ships in the conduit. We’re sending the drones in and I need safe passage charts ready to go before the first braking maneuver. Use the old data and update enroute.”

“Archon, I have a cruiser path,” the navigator said, throwing up a line a bit more steep than his arbitrarily drawn one, though it curved much more fiercely at the bottom end to slide under the elevated shield, just skimming the extremely thin top layer of the atmosphere.

“We’re going to cause a hell of a hurricane,” Brad said, having wanted to come in a little higher than that, but this would work. “Configure drones shields for needle alignment…or any others preferable to individual approaches. Get me lines for the other hull sizes and throw in a command ship just for fun,” he said as the little dots on the system map that stood as a tiny secondary field of view to his right showed the progress of the fleet moving from the star to the planet and the countdown they were under. If the Zargor got paranoid they might lower that shield entirely, and the Sangheili were right to ask for immediate assistance to…

“Archon, approach to gap in planetary shields requested by the Sangheili commander.”

Brad smirked. “Gotta love comm lag. Tell him we’re already on it and the hammer will be dropping soon. If he wants to take advantage of the diversion, let him know his window of opportunity will be closing quickly.”

And with that the bridge dropped into a mediocre silence. People were breathing and moving about, but there was no further talking as the ships continued to coast across the system. Analysts pulled up and sorted data, filing reports that both Brad and the Admiral studied while the navigators worked up independent deceleration plans for each of the drones that were being unpacked from the carrier jumpships. They were sliding out of their parking slots and into space as if they weren’t moving at all, but once they reached the jumppoint they’d have to brake using their own engines and with all the different masses of ships involved you could end up with them running into each other if you didn’t organize it all precisely.

And above that the drones had to keep some of their momentum as they slid in towards the planet and pulled hard on every other available gravity well, namely the nearby moon, to curve their trajectory in a way that the Zargor had probably never thought was physically possible, let alone seen before, else they wouldn’t have left the side door wide open like it was.

When it finally happened Brad didn’t feel anything. The artificial gravity was steady and the command ship decelerated whisper quiet. The blue-shifted image of the planet clarified itself upon deceleration, as did the battlemap relay signals, but there was nothing to see or feel on the bridge. Despite that fact Brad felt a little surge of adrenaline, for his brain knew what was happening and how razor tight it was going to be even if his senses were clueless.

The thousands of drones passed them by in a flash, extending out into a thick staggered line that gradually condensed down into a very narrow stream only a few ships wide and high curving down and under the Zargor battle stations and coming under the level of the upper shield. Brad watched from the point of view of the leading drone, seeing the shield marked with an artificial overlay due to it normally being invisible, but he could still feel the massive barrier that would have soaked up hours or even days of orbital bombardment if they’d had to pound their way through it.

The drone skidded on the atmosphere right underneath it, bypassing two other ships coming up through the atmosphere and braking to a descending curve as it shot down into the thicker atmosphere between the lower altitude shields. It didn’t open fire, rather it moved down as fast as a meteor with many others in its wake causing such a disturbance that the air caught on fire and the entire column looked like a tube of fireworks reaching down to kiss the planet…only they never got that far. They slowed rapidly and hovered over the surface, oddly not drawing any fire for almost a minute before the Zargor realized the horror of what had happened.

When they did every surface battery within range started to open fire on the descending ships, but those already hovering low to the ground were spreading out and hunting down those weapons. The nearby shield generators were domes, however, so they couldn’t duck underneath those, but as the giant topside shield suddenly disappeared readying for a lower altitude reset the drones clustered down near the surface getting as many of them under the minimum height as they could.

When the shield finally did reset at a lower height, some of the descending drones rammed it, breaking apart on impact and weakening the shield. The other incoming ships slowed before they could hit, but the ones already underneath were busy attacking the shield generators and anything else of value within the region. About ten minutes later the shield went down entirely as big anti-orbital batteries from nearby regions depressed and fired into the column of descending drones, trying to pick off as many as they could, but it was far too late.

Brad had his surface foothold on the planet, and now that his drones were down and blasting the key pieces of infrastructure in preparation for the ground troops to follow, there was no way the Zargor were going to be able to remove them no matter how many surface armies they sent to counter. The navy was in the sky, and anything they wanted dead ended up so in short order.

“Admiral, orbit is yours.”

“Good luck,” the naval commander said as Brad left the bridge heading for the ground assault prep areas.

5

June 19, 3545

Jec System (Rim Region/Zargor territory)

Lokedd

“Here we go,” Maddok said, walking up to the edge of the lowering boarding ramp in the dropship. “Give ‘em hell.”

The Protovic Commandos ran out in their blood red armor and jumped, falling several meters to the ground as their ride took hits on its shields, but they were splayed out in such a way to give the infantry cover as they quickly scrambled out of the ship as it buzzed the ground. As soon as Maddok’s feet hit he rolled forward through a somersault over his right shoulder, smashing the weapons attached to his back but that was ok. It was awkward, but they were built to be knocked around to no end.

As a unit the 28 Protovic ran up the street towards the battle ahead, linking in with the battlemap system and getting waypoints. Suddenly Maddok was turning right and breaking from the group along with three others, running through the alien Zargor streets and ducking under a low something that was blocking one. It was a giant pipe and he had no idea what it was there for, but he and the others had no problem getting under it and back into a run as they began to feel enemy contacts ahead.

There were a lot, but not enough to give them trouble despite the fact that they were the size of giants. Every time Maddok saw one at a glance he thought it was Nasus, though these were not so well armored. They had shield generator belts on, but otherwise they were naked save for an ugly loincloth. Their bodies were totally covered in fur though, and underneath it was a mountain of muscle capped off with a muzzle full of teeth that stood a good two feet higher than the Protovic’s head.

That said, the 40 or so that were trying to flank the main battle ahead weren’t going to be a problem now that he saw other Protovic were following them off the main street, so the foursome ran right at the group, getting a few more strides in before the Zargor noticed them. Rifles spun around and fired at the quartet, but the shots missed high as the enemy soldiers inexplicably raised their guns at the last moment.

They reaimed but missed again, shooting the ground or walls…anywhere but the rushing Protovic who fired back and did not miss. They all hit the same target and its shields went down, but it dove out of the way as more came up to block for it and take aim. Those fired and one of the shots hit another Zargor ahead of them…then the Protovic were on them and firing at pointblank range with the Zargor still unable to shoot them.

Friendly fire hit a few more Zargor, then some of them dropped their rifles altogether and dove towards the Protovic, intend on battering them to death or maybe ripping a few arms out of socket, but two of them stumbled and fell while the others ran the wrong way as the Protovic continued messing with their minds using their telepathy. They couldn’t take control of the enemy like an Archon could, but they could still use a long list of tricks they’d learned confusing the enemy and making it almost impossible for them to aim in the right direction…for when they did, they saw it as being askew in mind’s eye.

Same thing with the few that tripped and fell. Their sense of balance was pushed off by the Protovic as they stepped in and gunned down several, though with only four against 40 they couldn’t mess with all of their minds, so they focused on those closest and kept them in between so the others didn’t have good firing lines. By the time the first few fell more Protovic were coming up from behind and adding their telepathic skills to the fight even before they fired shots.

The Zargor had no chance whatsoever. Disoriented, confused, and furious as hell, they all were shot dead eventually with the Protovic putting extra shots into their big bodies to make sure they stayed down. Their orders were to kill any that fought back, and in previous days of fighting they’d had some get back up when they had no right to. Their big bodies seemed to adjust to the trauma and block it out temporarily to give them some additional fight time before they blacked out, meaning that if you didn’t actually kill them you could have a crazed giant punching you in its last few breaths…which was what had happened to Maddok his second week here.

The Zargor was so strong the single punch knocked him halfway across the street and bounced him off a side wall, and had he not been wearing armor he probably would have been knocked unconscious and soon to be killed, but with the Star Force protection the blow did little more than bounce him around like a beach ball, though it did instill on the Protovic just how powerful the Zargor were and why they were so feared.

But Maddok and his fellow Commandos now knew how close to get and not get, and they were getting better at taking these giants down as the days progressed. Their missions were always hunt and destroy in this sector or that. There were no prisoners being taken, nor were there cities. Star Force wasn’t claiming this planet as their own…they were simply here to destroy select pieces of it. Not enough that the population would starve to death after they left, but enough to cripple its communications, military industry, and all shipbuilding functions.

What Maddok’s assignments had been were going after defensive emplacements, shield generators, training centers, etc. The big combat was being taken care of by the mech units, leaving the infantry cleanup duties along their path and being sent on little offshoot missions like this. Up ahead was a munitions factory that supplied some very nasty explosive traps and cluster grenades that Star Force had been fighting against in other systems, but they were most effective against unarmored infantry or light vehicles and had a penchant for maiming rather than killing.

The factory had to go, but the Zargor citizenry thought otherwise. They were coming to the aid of the few soldiers defending it, and as many that did the Protovic were going to kill. These bastards were out across this region of the galaxy conquering and butchering countless worlds, so Maddok and the other Protovic weren’t going to cut them any slack. If there truly were noncombatants here they could prove it by not fighting, but anyone who took a shot or claw at them was going down hard.

And as long as the Protovic didn’t get sloppy, the Zargor couldn’t ambush them with hidden troops. Their telepathy passed through walls as if they weren’t even there, allowing them to look for minds and disable them even before the Zargor got sight or scent of their battle armor. Sometimes Maddok could trick one Zargor into shooting another one, but it was all based on misdirection rather than control, and thankfully these guys weren’t too bright. All muscle and tenacity with little problem solving involved. They did one thing and did it well, but take that option away from them and they all but pouted, getting madder and madder which only helped the Protovic manipulate them easier.

Once his unit got finished with this 40 the Protovic kept moving out from the main street hunting additional flanking units coming in. Every now and then a group would have armored individuals denoting either current or inactive soldiers, but most wore the loincloths and carried handheld weapons, some even without shield generators. It was as if they were expected to fight even if they didn’t stand a chance, and with the number of them on this planet that could pose a problem if they got organized, but it seemed like they were just coming at the Protovic as soon as the individuals arrived here from whatever nearby building they were originating from.

And Maddok’s unit was chopping them into bits because of it. Maybe the Zargor on the other planets would take notice and adapt, but these weren’t and they were already 2 months into this slash and burn operation. Literally, there were smoke plumes rising from across the planet from where the warships had toasted key buildings and weapons batteries. Not all of the planetary defense shields were down yet, and those that weren’t were going to see more Protovic on the ground going in to drop them the hard way…and after they did the warships would own anything that was left exposed.

They’d already been through this area, but the factory wasn’t something they were just going to blow up. Using infantry allowed the workers time to run away, though any that felt like sticking around to die were welcome to do so. If you were inside a shield generator then it was your unlucky day, because those were being taken down as quickly as possible, often by mech units that just blasted the things into oblivion once they got close enough.

The Zargor had a lot of tanks in play, but they weren’t built for their own city streets. The mechs that were capable of it were climbing over the buildings and flanking…or sometimes landing on and flattening…the tanks, taking advantage of their hand to hand superiority and keeping the Zargor from massing firing lines on them by avoiding the few wide open areas within the city and sticking to the synthetic jungle that Maddok was now traversing.

Every time he was dropped into battle it was nonstop. Run, disorient, kill, and repeat until he got so tired that he had to cycle out and fresh troops would come in. Sometimes he’d get a breather after a particular mission was accomplished, but with so much of the ‘civilian’ population coming to fight the invaders there seemed like there was never too many people to kill and these Zargor did not have a problem running to their deaths, seeming to be happy if they could just get in a single attack against the enemy.

It was zealotry in its rawest form and Maddok wasn’t guessing about that. He was in their heads and could feel their emotions. They had one impulse for the lot of them, and it was to kill the Protovic. Didn’t matter how. Didn’t matter how many died in the process. They simply had to get to the defilers invading their planet and rip them apart in whatever way they could. There was no strategy or tactics. They weren’t fighting as a team, but rather as a pack. Rushing the enemy with numbers and fighting individually…and against an empire that had cut its teeth against lizard swarm tactics, defeating these guys would have been easy even without the telepathy.

Suddenly a mech stepped out into the side street ahead of Maddok and he got a ping from the pilot who lowered the right barrel on the Madcat-class mech to the ground. Two other Protovic ahead of him jumped up onto it and climbed, with Maddok doing the same until they plus another six were riding up around the boxy shoulders and holding on via their armor’s grip pads, otherwise the walking motion of the mech would have thrown them off as the pilot moved them forward through a lot of ground fighting and up to the roof of the factory.

The mech rammed its shoulder into the wall and its little ticks jumped off, with Maddok and the others sprinting across the lower rooftop towards an access door just shy of a taller section of the factory that was shaped similar to a ziggurat. They blasted their way through the lock and got inside the facility, flanking the defenders and attacking them from the backside with their telepathy and disabling a few stationary guns as the Zargor operating them started seeing bigger targets in the sky to shoot at that weren’t really there.

Maddok and the others kept up their telepathic attack without using their weapons for more than self-defense. The longer it took the Zargor to realize they had a group in their midst the better, so they hid out and opened up as many avenues of attack as possible for the Protovic outside before moving forward and helping with the final breakthrough. Maddok had used up almost all of his ammo at that point and logged himself to ‘low ammo’ status using his HUD, quickly getting a waypoint further back along the street leading up to the factory sent to him under new orders.

He ran back to it, seeing a few others heading in the same direction, then he spotted several rolling wheels coming down the street ahead and unfurling at that point. Each Rammus was carrying weapons or ammo, and when he got up to that position one of the little support troops opened up his carrying boxes and Maddok refilled all his weapons and his own ammo pouch, topping off with as much as he could carry before heading back and logging himself as ‘restocked.’

He got new orders that brought him back inside the factory where the Protovic were sweeping the facility, either killing or chasing out everyone inside with numerous telepathic sweeps to pick up people hiding, though with the Zargor that didn’t usually happen, but more civilians were coming into the factory where they could and Maddok was posted to one entrance to keep people out while the sweep was ongoing.

They had to do a lot more killing to accomplish that for the Zargor would not let up, but eventually he was signaled to push out from the factory and establish a neutral zone around it. That took another 10 minutes to accomplish, then he got a warning that bombardment was incoming and where not to go…namely back into the factory.

In the sky above a Destroyer-class drone drifted overtop the factory and the triangular cube began raining down a massive amount of firepower that, coupled with the munitions components that they were shooting, began to blow apart the Zargor facility piece by piece. It wasn’t one large explosion, but a methodical buzz saw of energy attacks that eventually leveled the factory.

When that was done the drone’s weapons suddenly fell silent and it glided off out of view heading for its next fire mission as Maddok and the other Protovic Commandos were likewise reassigned, bypassing huge chunks of the enemy city as they plucked away the key facilities and left the others untouched.

6

August 1, 3545

Uyit System (Rim Region)

Orrpwer (Tolsoi capitol)

Davis ran out the door from the building where he had his command center and into the streets in the Star Force built city within a city on the Tolsoi capitol. 99% of the personnel here were Tolsoi that had been maturia raised or conversion trained, making them full Star Force rather than transitional workers. In the 110 years that the Star Force Director had spent in the Rim Region a lot of work had gotten done and a lot of people had died for lack of adequate help, but the Tolsoi themselves were no longer at risk.

Their borders were firm and their economy stable with the population only about one third converted, but that wasn’t stopping Davis and Greg from using the faction in the making to help stabilize surrounding areas and further push back against the Zargor and Firbyns. The monkey-like race was decent across the board and were slated to become a full faction in Star Force down the road with all 5 divisions of their military currently developing and their taking the mantle of responsibility on themselves as the leading race within the Rim Region.

Right now Greg was out with a Tolsoi warfleet making strikes against Firbyn incursions and sending an ongoing message to the denizens of the Rim Region not under Star Force control that they were the new sheriff in town, and no matter how big the vast stretch of territory they’d laid claim to was, they were not going to ignore any of it. Conflicts that were long done and over with were still going to be righted and villains dispossessed, with Davis currently working on a plan for a 6 system confederation that the Firbyn had invaded and enslaved to join Star Force.

They didn’t have much to offer, but that was pretty much the point. The Firbyn had destroyed or stolen most of what the Friq Colo had, and if Davis just left them alone after kicking the Firbyn out the conglomeration of 8 races were either going to be invaded again or implode under the chaos that would result. Right now the Star Force occupation forces that were a mix of Tolsoi and Clans Firestorm, Skystrike, and Dark Knight were all that was keeping the Friq Colo together and Davis knew he’d be causing a disaster if he pulled them out now.

Correction…more of a disaster. There were already shortages of practically everything and Star Force had the local supply production facilities under close guard and were pumping out as much equipment and foodstuffs as they could using local workers who were glad to no longer be slaves, but were not in very good physical health. No one was starving, but it was hard to heal up past damage when your food was being rationed.

Shipments were coming in from the Paladin and being put to use, but it was going to take a long time to get the Friq Colo self-sufficient even within the Star Force structure. Abandoning them to their ‘freedom’ would be a death sentence, so Davis was obligated to take them on as a ward and scrape by to make do despite the thousands of other systems out there that needed Star Force assistance. For as much as they’d accomplished over the past century, the Rim Region was so large and so messed up that there was always more to do and not enough personnel and ships to do it with.

But overall the Rim Region was better off than when The Nexus had left, and there was even a small amount of people coming to Davis and asking to help rather than joining in with the refugee stream. These were skilled individuals or coalitions within the current Nexus boundaries that were voluntarily leaving and asking to join up with Star Force for a variety of reasons/conditions. Some of them were people with experience working the grid points, others were manufacturers, soldiers, technicians, scientists, farmers, etc…and they were all top notch people that had no reason to leave The Nexus.

Why they were coming here had to do with the future. Events happening in The Nexus were something that Davis was keeping an eye on but he didn’t know much and was so busy he didn’t have time to work to find out more, but apparently conditions were slowly deteriorating in some areas and drastically falling apart in others. Even the ‘secure’ regions had growing concerns of how and when that status might change, and that’s where most of these volunteers were coming from. They saw the Rim Region steadily improving over time while The Nexus was further deteriorating and they were savvy enough to want to jump ship before anything worse happened.

Oddly that meant they were coming into worse conditions than they were leaving, but they knew it and were here to work. Davis was grateful for that, but he still didn’t have enough people to do everything he needed and the Friq Colo were a perfect example of that. He needed to rotate out his Clan troops but didn’t have enough capable Tolsoi to do it, so he was trying several theoretical personnel swaps in his head even as he ran through the Star Force city getting in an easy workout while mentally continuing on with his administrative duties, doubling up as he did most hours of the day, for never had a single day gone by since he arrived out here that he wasn’t in over his head and trying to accomplish more than was possible with limited resources.

It sucked, but he’d learned long ago to put the plight of people outside his reach mostly out of his mind. He never gave up on anyone, but if he couldn’t reach them then there was no point in wasting thoughts lamenting their plight. He couldn’t change it, but he could change others and that’s where his focus went in addition to taking a few minutes here and there to rest and attend to himself. This was a marathon of an assignment and that fact was something he had to continually remind others of even as he had them rotated through different duties and even back to the ADZ as needed, but he was the one link in the chain that could not falter, so he mentally disconnected from the chaos and barbarism out here as much as he functionally could.

He’d gotten so good at it that when his head hit the pillow at night he was able to completely blank his mind of everything else and focus on regenerating himself…then when he woke up his priorities snapped back into rescue mode with him working to save as many people as quickly as possible while building up or reworking those who had been saved in order to add them to his current assets.

To others that might have sounded cold, but it was the only way Star Force could function out here. There was too much misery and suffering, and if one got fixated on it it’d drive you insane. He’d had several discussions with Greg on that matter and the Archon agreed, with both of them closely monitoring their people to know how far they could push them before they snapped.

But here on Orrpwer, at least, there was a forming island of tranquility. It wasn’t fully rebuilt yet and would still be another few centuries of ‘make it up as you go’ work in order to assist other systems with exports as much as possible. They didn’t have the luxury of tearing down and rebuilding everything here just yet, but Davis wouldn’t let offworld concerns block progress, knowing that it was important to not just keep people alive but also nudge them forward. When one escaped a bad situation they often became stagnant in the ‘good’ zone they found themselves in without realizing that they were still damaged and needed to press on. They mistakenly thought that wanting more was ingratitude, and it was important that Davis led by example, which was why key regions of the planet were constantly under demolition and reconstruction with proper Tolsoi-designed Star Force infrastructure rising like growths on the world.

Davis had administrators running most of that, and those ‘growths’ would gradually expand to consume the planet in time, but it wasn’t important work for someone like him. It was essential, but Davis’s efforts had to be zoned in on troubleshooting beyond the Tolsoi, whether that be outside their borders or into their own future, for despite the progress they’d made most of them weren’t up to Star Force standards yet and there were far too few maturias for what the population required, meaning that a lot of younglings being born were having to grow up the old school way.

That annoyed Davis to no end, but he didn’t have a choice. Pouring all his resources into maturia construction would have been a huge mistake. It would have aided the Tolsoi greatly, but have left so many others in jeopardy that only someone willing to sacrifice them while playing a long term game would pursue that path, and Davis never would.

As for the Tolsoi themselves, they were smart and loyal and didn’t argue with his orders. After bringing them back from the brink of destruction he’d earned their trust and effort, with them doing more work than required because they believed in the righteousness of what they were doing. That was something you couldn’t get from slaves or employees. It had to come from people wanting to engage, needing to engage in the fight against the darkness that was choking the Rim Region, and both the Tolsoi and others saw Star Force, and especially Davis, as the torchbearer for that while everyone else was pretty much in ‘cover your ass’ or ‘every man for yourself’ mode.

As he ran, zigzagging across the small city but staying amongst the Star Force built structures, he passed by many people without noticing them, his thoughts elsewhere, but most of them noticed him. He wasn’t wearing armor and his face was Human, which was rare on the planet, but Davis’s was the most well-known amongst the Tolsoi, even more so than Greg’s given that he was almost always off planet. And while some of the Tolsoi had gotten used to having the Humans around and let him pass by without staring, most stood frozen as he passed or gibbered at each other pointing excitedly.

Davis had gotten used to that long ago and tuned it out as well, but one thing that got picked up on his mental radar was a body heading towards him. He started to veer out of the way slightly, as was common when people didn’t see him coming, but this one picked up speed and tracked after him. When he turned to look with his eyes he saw one of the Tolsoi diving towards him with a weapon.

Caught partially off guard, all Davis could do was get a hand up on the shorter, but jumping monkey as he spun away. The two rotated opposite each other, and in that split second Davis got the advantage and latched on, spinning him around an extra turn and throwing him into the nearest wall as the Human stumbled to catch his footing.

With a grace native to their race, the Tolsoi bounced off the wall, hit the ground, then came jumping back up at him…at which point a single side handed punch caught the monkey in the face and sent him to the ground stunned. His weapon fell out of his hand and clattered on the ground a moment before flying up into Davis’s. He looked at it, seeing that it wasn’t unusual other than the fact that the knife had been sharpened to a very high degree. Too sharp, in fact.

His nose picked up an odd scent and he realized it was coming from a thin sheen on the blade as the Tolsoi started to clear his head. Davis kicked him back over against the wall then walked up and put a foot on his back, smashing him to the ground as he used his telepathy to search his thoughts. It took him a while to dig out what he needed, but the surface thoughts weren’t hard to follow. When he finished he had Tolsoi in Star Force security uniforms standing behind him waiting along with a large crowd of assorted personnel and passersby.

“An assassin,” Davis said loudly enough all nearby could hear. “Hired to kill whatever Humans he could get to with a poisoned blade. His contact is on the planet,” he said, taking a step back and pointing to the wriggling Tolsoi that tried to run when released, but the others were even faster and had him face planted again within seconds, then hauled up in a choke hold to get him moving while others cleared the street ahead.

“Are you injured?” one of them asked Davis.

“Almost. Have there been other attacks on Star Force personnel, Human or Tolsoi?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Neither was I. Put out an alert and get this one to an Archon with a higher telepathy rating than I have.”

“May I?” another one asked, pointing to the knife that Davis carefully passed over to him. “This isn’t local. The shape is right, but the materials are different.”

“Infiltrators?” another one asked.

“He was hired,” Davis added. “And they were Tolsoi.”

“Traitors…”

“I’ll get this analyzed?”

“Go ahead,” Davis said. “I’ve got a run to finish.”

The security forces didn’t say anything else, breaking up and going their separate ways as they knew the idea of their protecting an Archon was laughable. Even though Davis was the head of the entire Star Force empire he was also a ranger and could take care of himself.

That said, the dirty little monkey almost was able to stab him. Even if he had the poison…well, he didn’t know what it was yet, but whoever arranged this obviously had no knowledge of a regenerator. Even if it killed Davis, he’d be back in the land of the living within minutes, and there were so many medical personnel around here that it was all around stupid to try an assassination short of blowing someone up.

But Star Force’s enemies didn’t know a lot of about them, meaning they thought this was probably a good idea. Send a lone disposable hire in to stupidly attack a Human, hoping to kill them with the poison so long as one good thrust was registered…with a sharpened blade to make sure it dug in deep.

Davis turned and started running again, keeping his Pefbar on just in case a second try was made, but this was his city on his planet in his empire and he was an Archon…he wasn’t going to not finish his workout.

But there were Human techs here less able to defend themselves and he was sure this Tolsoi hadn’t been targeting him specifically. If you wanted to find Humans this was the place to be and there weren’t any major security checkpoints set up to keep people out. The Tolsoi had been so supportive since Star Force got here there had never been a problem. That didn’t mean security forces weren’t deployed all over, but people who didn’t work in this city were still able to pass through and look around.

He wasn’t going to change that, but he was going to get to the bottom of this even if there wasn’t a trail to follow back. Whoever did this hiring should have covered their tracks if they had even heard the vaguest of rumors concerning Humans’ ability to read minds, he just didn’t know how careful they’d gotten. Never the less, there were other ways of finding people who didn’t belong here, even if they were hiding amongst the non-converted populations on the most secured planet in the Rim Region.

As he ran he considered what that meant. Were they just trying to hit the most easily accessible Humans or were they trying to dent Star Force’s ego by striking here? He didn’t know and the assassin most certainly didn’t either, for he was just a crazed dupe recruited as a tool who didn’t realize as much. He thought he’d actually get away even if he managed to kill Davis, though the stupidity of that showed that he wasn’t from around here, otherwise he would have known where the security stations were and have seen the roaming patrols. There was nowhere to run to that the cameras covering the streets couldn’t follow, and he was sure that was public knowledge by now.

Davis mentally sighed. He’d assign the appropriate people to follow up on this but there wasn’t anything else for him to do. Any deviation from his routine could mean a planet or two got wasted, and there was no way he was going to let himself get distracted. If there was a larger plan in play here that was uncovered he’d deal with it, but right now he had limited resources to divvy up and not enough winning solutions in play…which meant he had to create more, and the only way he could do that was by working the various problems and leaving everything else to his subordinates.

Train, eat, work, and sleep…often with number 3 overlapping with 1 and 2, and that was the way things were going to stay until the Rim Region was out of danger and he had enough fleets and resources to rescue all those who needed it. Davis knew that meant centuries more, if not another millennia, but as the ADZ and especially the occupation zone grew they’d be importing more support and his job would get easier, though no less frantic. He literally held the fate of billions in his spare time, which was why he could afford none. He wasn’t going to leave anyone hanging while he played videogames or…did whatever normal people did. Odd how he’d forgotten already after only a century.

“Nice try bastards,” he whispered as he turned another corner and weaved through a group of civilian Tolsoi, then kept clear of the feet of a passing construction mech by cutting across to the other side, “but I’m not that easy to kill…or distract.”

7

March 29, 3546

Jec System (Rim Region/Zargor territory)

Nwox

Brad was the last man off the fourth world that the Protovic had just finished raiding, flying up into orbit onboard a dropship at the tail end of a scattered line of others returning to the jumpships with the ground troops. Below them were columns of smoke rising from numerous locations on the planet marking the facilities that had been destroyed…all of which had been used to facilitate the Zargor war campaigns, but they wouldn’t be aiding any raiding fleet soon, nor building others. Every shipyard and factory that supplied them had been wrecked while leaving the rest of the planets intact, and now it was time to leave.

Star Force didn’t have the resources to deal with a captured population out here, so this was the best option. Yes, the Zargor would remain in possession of this system but they’d have to rebuild all their cool toys and that would take time…all the while knowing that Brad’s Protovic could return at any point to take them out again. In some ways leaving the system in their possession was a psychological advantage, for if it had been taken from them it could be a rallying cry for vengeance. Now it stood as a testament to the Zargor’s inability to stop Star Force, and that sentiment could be hammered in as many times as necessary if and when they started to rebuild.

When Brad returned to his command ship he had the fleet begin recovering their deployed drone warships and lining up to make the microjump back to the star as he sent the Zargor a final message detailing his intention to return and destroy the various defensive and offensive installations if they were rebuilt, but bothered to mention that if they just turned their efforts to sustaining their current population they’d be left alone.

He doubted the arrogant bastards would listen, but the trailblazer was going to make it clear what was going down. They weren’t here to murder all Zargor in the system, but rather to clip their ability to fight and conquer other worlds…and there were four planets full of witnesses to testify to what had happened, though those four were seeing significantly reduced populations given how many citizens had come out to fight and die along with the soldiers. Hopefully those that remained were a touch wiser, for even with all the deaths, the Zargor had too many people and not enough resources to feed them all given the destruction caused, for Brad had made certain to evacuate and destroy the meat production facilities on the planet.

And now packed into the Star Force jumpships were the herds that they’d rescued, some of which had already been moved out of the system to a sanctuary hastily established. Fortunately this system only used the meat production as a supplementary food supply and Brad’s fleet was large enough to move the various races away without having to call in additional help, but it was also fortunate because the Zargor weren’t denied their only source of foodstuffs. They had grain production, but not enough. They’d have to go on reduced rations while building up that resource, but if they chose to instead rebuild their planetary defense shields and weapons batteries then that was on them if people starved to death.

Brad had left their honorable food production facilities intact, along with their power stations, insystem communications, etc, so there wasn’t a great amount of damage to the planets. It just hurt where it was supposed to…the war effort and their ego.

With the Protovic’s job done, his fleet jumped out from the star and left the system behind enroute to the sanctuary world to deposit the rest of the rescues, and then after that back to the nearest Star Force base large enough to resupply his fleet for their next attack against Zargor territory.

17 months later…

A Vedran stood on its rail perch looking at the Star Force hologram of the system as ships came and went. This outpost was the only construction within this system built by the new masters, and they were lucky to have it. It wasn’t more than a defensive overwatch station but it had sensors far superior to what the Vedran had. It was able to monitor traffic and stay out of sight itself while having the capability to send signals from system to system, keeping the single world here connected with the others far faster than the Vedran relays could.

The defense forces here were all Vedran as well, but not a single individual had come from the maturia that were training the next Vedran…those that were pure Star Force. This system was small and unimportant and there hadn’t been any construction here save for the outpost, and it stood as a reminder that while the major worlds were being reworked and heavily defended by Star Force, they hadn’t forgotten about Mecbio.

As the Vedran monitored the incoming traffic he suddenly realized someone else hadn’t forgotten about them either, for there was a large convoy coming out of a jump in very near to the star. It didn’t take long for the Star Force sensors to pick out ship silhouettes and match them to Zargor ships, but the sheer number of them was staggering. Far too many for what would have been needed to conquer Mecbio and at first the avian thought they might be passing through enroute to Jaagron, but their transit around the star was limited to getting over to the planetary jumpline.

They gathered there then began microjumping en mass headed for a world that was totally unable to defend itself against a force even a tenth that size…but as the outpost watched from afar the Zargor ships entered orbit and just sat there. No combat broke out and eventually a message was sent from Mecbio to the outpost for them to send on to Star Force.

The Zargor wanted to talk, and they wanted to talk here.

9 weeks later…

The Excalibur entered orbit around Mecbio alone, no support fleet, no drones, not even a Ma’kri with it. It coasted in towards a fleet of 3209 Zargor ships totally outmatched…yet with the confidence that it could come and go as it pleased. The Zargor ships had no technology to pin it in place, and with the combination of advanced shields and engines the only way they could defeat it was if Paul stood his command ship in one place and slugged it out. That would be a sure loss, but even an Archon adept wouldn’t make such a stupid mistake, let alone ‘The Admiral.’

So he just strolled into the system and sent a quick message to the pitifully small Vedran defense fleet sitting in a much lower orbit telling them to stay away and if combat occurred to run like hell, for standing and fighting wouldn’t accomplish anything, and if they didn’t have orders to the contrary they would follow existing ones and die uselessly. The standing orders had come from Paul, but ‘defending the system’ was something too complex to be able to be written out specifically, movement for movement.

Tell the Vedran to run away when outmatched and they’d turn tail when the enemy had one more ship, or even one more weapon. Using strategy and tactics to outmatch your opponent was something that was beyond them, so they were told to fight until they received a certain amount of damage to their ships, then to withdraw from combat. Problem was, against a fleet this size, they’d be blown up before they could retreat after that line was passed so Paul just told them flat out to run in order to avoid stupid adherence to protocol. Had these been maturia trained Vedran it wouldn’t be an issue, but there were too many worlds that had yet to be indoctrinated and this was one of them.

Paul stood in the command nexus when the Zargor soon made contact. The image of a trio of wolf-like heads and torsos appeared before him in holo with computer translation lagging slightly behind the native spoken words that were significantly reduced in volume to avoid overlap problems.

“Archon,” the Zargor greeted with obvious animosity but a note of forced respect, a sign that he didn’t want to be talking. “We have come to discuss the terms of a ceasefire.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“We can hurt you, and as you’ve recently demonstrated, you can hurt us. If this war continues we will both be damaged and others could take advantage of the situation. That would benefit neither of us. Make no mistake, we despise you, but your strength is not to be underestimated and we know that you will damage other enemies with certainty, therefore we believe there is mutual advantage in negotiating a ceasefire arrangement.”

“Do you know why we are at war with you?”

The Zargor trio looked shocked at the question, as if they didn’t have an automatic answer for it and thinking hurt their angular heads.

“You seek dominance in this region.”

“Partially true. We stepped in when The Nexus withdrew in order to protect and stabilize this region. You can call that dominance if you wish, but it does not involve invading worlds that do not give us cause to.”

“And if we no longer give you cause and remain within our own borders and out of a list of worlds designated here, will that eliminate the cause you have for invading ours?”

“Not entirely,” Paul said honestly. “We have many allies that coinhabit the regions where we hold dominance. They must obey a list of rules, and if they do we leave them alone to do as they like. If they do not obey those rules, we will intervene. If you withdraw from your current attacks we will stop hitting your worlds in the short term, for we have other places that need our forces, but if you continue to misbehave in other ways you will attract our attention eventually, so I cannot agree to any permanent cessation of hostilities without a code of conduct.”

“We are not interested in debating the merits of what we do on our own worlds with you. We only offer a ceasefire to the present conflict between us.”

“There is room to negotiate there, but no agreement will ever be used as a shield to condone misbehavior. That said, there are a lot of civilizations out here that need to be taught a lesson or conquered. Lowering yourself on that list will cause us to leave your territory alone in the immediate future.”

“And will turning our fleets into territories that you do not claim dominance over draw your ire?”

“Probably, given the way you operate.”

“We are here to negotiate. If you do not wish to do so state it plainly.”

“I will state this plainly,” Paul said, crossing his arms over his chest with a very defiant look on his face. “You’re losing. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be coming here to talk. You would be taking and destroying whatever you want. We will never tolerate races that do so, but we are stretched thin right now. We have a long list of enemies to deal with and you’re at the top of that list. You’re hitting so many worlds we can’t defend them all, so we’re going to hit you hard where it hurts and keep hitting you until you choose to stop or no longer have the resources to continue. Is that plain enough?”

Two of the three Zargor snarled, but the third held a more amused expression. Paul couldn’t sense their minds over a comm channel, but he could tell that the middle one respected the art of intimidation.

“So you admit we can hurt each other?”

“You can’t hurt my forces much, but you can hurt those we are here to protect,” Paul clarified. “If you wish to strike a deal that will spare them continued attacks, then I’m open to negotiation. What specifically were you considering as terms for this ceasefire?”

“A defined border that neither side will cross.”

“No.”

Silence followed his quick denial, but Paul let it hang in the air until one of them finally spoke.

“Any such deal is dependent on that. It is not a caveat, but a functional staple of a ceasefire.”

“I said no.”

The middle one snarled this time, but it was obvious that they had been sent here to get a deal and walking away wasn’t their first available option.

“Shall we make it more simple? We stop attacking you, you stop attacking us.”

“No,” Paul repeated.

The three Zargor exchanged looks that ranged from aghast to desperate. They wanted to be the impetus behind the terms, but they weren’t able to get any leverage with Paul being so outwardly defiant.

“This world will be destroyed if we do not reach a deal and we remain at war. You have already stated that you wish to protect those under your domain, and the Vedran you have already adopted into your empire.”

“If this world is attacked, I can promise you that the ship you are on will be destroyed during the fighting.”

“Our lives are immaterial. We serve the pack.”

“Never the less, you can count on me honoring that threat even if I can’t stop the destruction of this world…and you can also count on the vengeance that I will enact upon both your homeworld and your capitol in due time. Protection is our first priority, but if we cannot achieve that we will avenge those that are lost.”

“In that we are the same, and you have struck against our territory. Such an offense must be punished.”

“And yet you can’t do it, can you?” Paul sniped back. “You don’t negotiate, you kill. You are here because you cannot see a way to win and you believe you can manipulate us into legitimizing your conquests in other areas. We will never do that. If you want the fighting to stop, you have to stop misbehaving. If you want to temporarily avoid fighting, you have to withdraw from your current incursions so that my top priority becomes others who are misbehaving. Fortunately for you there are many of them, otherwise we would be conquering your civilization right now instead of just raiding it. We typically do not let those who do what you do retain their sovereignty, but these are special circumstances and we must make the most of what few resources we have. If you want to take advantage of that, I suggest you think it through carefully instead of assuming I’m a mark you can manipulate with false offerings of peace or threats of more war. I am a defender. It’s not peace I seek, its protection, and I do not dislike fighting. I’m very good at it, more so than others, and if needed I will demonstrate here and now if you strike at this world.”

“That is enough,” another voice said as the hologram expanded and a fourth Zargor walking into view. The other three exchanged glances with him, then they departed and the newcomer’s image grew to fill the air above the control board in front of Paul, looking down on him slightly.

“And you are?”

“The one who has the power to negotiate.”

“A Hafren or a Treemach?” Paul guessed.

The Zargor’s eyes widened a touch. “You have studied us.”

“Of course we have. We’re not that overstretched.”

A deep, reverberating laugh answered him that needed no translation. “Very good, Human. Very good. You are not the timid caretakers we were mistakenly told about.”

“Bad intelligence?”

“Of a sort. I have studied you as well, and you in particular. Your method of conquest is most intriguing. You do not use fear of death to intimidate. No. You use a much…wider net to ensnare your opponents and turn them into servants. It is quite remarkable, actually, and makes our methods seem brutish in comparison.”

“You admit that? I thought your collective ego would have prevented any such simple thoughts.”

“Ah, and you can also insult. Very good indeed.”

“Now that we’re properly introduced, do you have an offer to make or are you going to turn tail and run. The threat against this planet is hollow, or at best poorly thought out. We respond to the biggest threats, so making yourself a bigger one is…”

“…poor planning. Yes, my subordinates are not very inventive and fall back on habits when presented with an unfamiliar situation. That is why I am here. You are right not to concede anything to us, for you are winning. We can hurt you badly if we wished, but that would also be poor planning. We cannot destroy you entirely, and I know you have a vast empire far from here to draw resources from that we can never eliminate. So where does that leave us?”

“You have to change your methodology.”

“Quite so. Hence we are…negotiating.”

“And doing poorly, I might add.”

“What would you recommend?”

“Something substantive.”

“Then I offer you this. We will never yield to your standards of conduct. To do so would destroy who and what we are, and there is no victory in that. Better to die fighting than convert.”

“We can arrange either one.”

“You will not take us alive, nor our offspring. That I can assure you.”

“Don’t be so sure. If properly motivated, we can make a lot of things happen.”

“Your rumored mind powers?”

“Fishing for information?”

“Should I not be?”

“Feel free to come onboard my ship and discuss such things in detail.”

“Thank you, no. That truly would be a misstep, for I do not believe I would be able to kill you if you could read my intent beforehand.”

“If we’re to be obvious enemies, then what do you have to offer?”

“Exactly what you said. You have a reputation for honesty, though we are not going to count on that. I will reciprocate though, and state that we already know your resources are stretched and that your attacks against us are in desperation. Desperation to distract us from the worlds that we can take and you cannot protect. It had been assumed you were disinclined to reprisals when ships drawn off to do so would expose other worlds. Those who predicted as much are now dead, and rather than pushing our advantage into your weak areas we are withdrawing ships to bolster our own defenses. You have turned our aggression against us and have made us the prey.”

“We’re not finished yet.”

“Yes you are, because I’m going to give you what you want. You will never abide us and we will never abide you, but we do know when we’re outmatched. You might eventually prevail in this region even if we bleed each other out, but you will fail in your stated goal of protecting those who are in danger and we will lose a great amount of territory and prestige…so the only suitable course of action for us both is to go our separate ways.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Disengaging. We will spend our resources on opponents other than the ones you protect…specifically the Trefu.”

“You can’t hold their territory even if you could take it,” Paul said, surprised by that revelation. “They’re far from your borders and you’ll have to cross through territory that we control.”

“Try to control,” the Zargor corrected. “We can slip through easy enough, but our goal isn’t to take what they possess. We have a score to settle with them that will only be acquitted with blood. You are also fighting the Trefu in a few engagements, correct?”

“More than a few, though not me personally.”

“One of your other factions?”

“Three, actually.”

“Then I recommend that we do not agree to a deal. There can be no peace between us. But we can pursue different opponents and ignore one another for a while…at least as long as it benefits us.”

“I’m curious. What’s your long term play beyond the Trefu? You know you can’t best us, and I doubt you’ll give up the worlds you currently have and run far, far off into the galaxy where we can’t find you…”

“There will be no running, and our future is our concern, not yours.”

Paul stared at him for a long moment, with the Zargor disinclined to break the silence.

“We have combat missions against your worlds either ongoing or planned. They will continue until we see your ships leave. I will not cancel them on words alone.”

“Nor should you. You judge an opponent by the size of their teeth and claws, not their voice.”

“Was that your mistake, because Humans don’t have claws?”

“Perhaps it was,” the Zargor said, smiling widely enough to show the large daggers he had for teeth inside his snout. “It is not a mistake we will make again. I suggest that if our ships cross paths in your domain that we ignore one another, for the combat would be a waste for us both, as we have others that need killing.”

The hologram cut out before Paul could respond, and within a few seconds the entire Zargor fleet began to move towards the Excalibur…then flew around it, heading for the jumppoint for the star as the command ship held its ground amidst the thousands of passing ships.

Paul sighed, then whispered an old bit of wisdom from James Tiberius Kirk regarding diplomacy.

“Words don’t always solve problems. Sometimes you just have to punch an alien in the face,” he said, stepping down from the nexus before turning back and telekinetically flipping a few buttons that brought up a map of the Rim Region and the gap between the Zargor and the Trefu. This was going to get interesting, no matter how it played out.

Paul snorted with mild disgust as another thought occurred to him.

“Picard would have given them a neutral zone.”

8

January 13, 3548

Iocane System (Gamma Region)

Outer Zone

Ace-095 yawned as he walked onto the bridge of the small insystem transport that was carrying him, Ryan-096, and about 300 passengers and cargo out to a point far beyond the last planet in the system. So far, in fact, that they were having to creep their way out to it navigationally speaking, for the gravity was so weak here that engines didn’t have much grip to work off of.

When the trailblazer came into the small compartment Ryan was already there, leaning against a wall while the crew of 4 manned their stations as he noticed on the holographic map that they were already decelerating towards their destination…at which was the surprise Ryan had promised him.

“Sleep well?”

“Did you have to put it so far out?” Ace complained.

“Yes, and for good reason. My Clan has been working on this for a long time and we needed someplace remote.”

“You’re almost inside the nebula,” Ace pointed out, referencing the huge gas cloud that was larger than the entire system and blocking nearly a third of all possible jumplines out from the star. It sat beside it and nearly swallowed up four adjacent systems that had to go the long way round, while another six stars were located inside the nebula itself but unreachable at any decent speed for the drag on the gasses would be too much strain at jump speeds, even for Star Force’s advanced shields.

“Hence it’s remote,” Ryan reiterated.

“How long until you’re going to let me in on the secret?”

“About four more minutes, then we’ll be within visual range.”

“Why isn’t the hologram showing whatever it is?”

“Because it’s sensor stealthed,” the pilot offered. “We’re working off of coordinates.”

“Dude,” Ace said, addressing Ryan, “if you built a Death Star out here, so help me…”

“I’m not Paul. And besides, this is way better.”

“Uh…huh…I’m waiting to be impressed.”

“You will be.”

Ace decided to just wait it out, watching the various readouts on the small bridge as the ship continued to decelerate, then out of nowhere the sensors finally got enough of a return bounce to register. It looked like eye with two flat arcs intersecting at either end and he noticed Ryan smiling silently.

Determined to figure it out without asking, Ace walked up to one of the stations and politely pressed a few buttons to pull up additional data. The length of whatever this was was big…really big…and sitting at just under 800 miles. The gap inside of it was…

Ace’s eyes widened as he realized he was seeing it from the side. The two flat arcs weren’t flat at all, rather opposite sides of a giant ring viewed slightly askew from the side.

“You built a frickin Halo?”

“It gets better,” Ryan promised.

“Alright tour guide. Feel free to show off.”

“Happy to,” he said, pushing off the wall as the half mile long ship continued to get closer.

“Clan Spartan…” Ace muttered. “I should have known.”

“You wouldn’t have guessed anyway. I put a lot of thought into this.”

“By copying Halo?”

“Wait and see,” the trailblazer said, suddenly clamming up and making Ace wait out their approach.

There were no other ships nearby the giant ring that was some 6 miles thick and 38 wide, and to Ace’s disappointment there was no visible land or water on the inside surface. The entire thing was black, but when Ryan sent a transmission the blackness disappeared and the grey hull plates that he would have expected to see materialized…as did the green and blue of land features.

Sensor readings lit up, and before Ace could get to inspecting what was before him he noticed a giant spherical energy shield around both them and the ring that wasn’t there before.

“What’s the bubble?”

“Sensor shield. I had them expand it beyond the ring so we could take a look. Normally it’s pretty tight to the construct.”

“Sunlight?”

“Artificial. There’s an atmospheric shield that doubles as internal light generation. You can see out, but it makes it look like a sunny day without the sun.”

“Training facility?”

“That and a great deal more.”

“Is this weaponized?”

“No. It’s got nothing at all on it. I couldn’t fit anything in with all the other equipment. There’s a mile and a half of air, then another half mile of substrata with the remaining mass being equipment. And yes, we hauled in rock and water to make it legit.”

“Awfully expensive.”

“But not wasted.”

“You’ve had your Clan working on this for how long?”

“378 years.”

Ace frowned. “I know it’s big, but…”

“It’s not the only one.”

Ryan glared at him. “Ok, what gives?”

“I could make you sweat it out…but what the hell. It’s too cool to wait any longer. You see the rim on the edges?”

“Yeah.”

“The very top is an array that keeps the land area safe beneath it when activated. Everything inside the ring’s perimeter is affected though, so you can’t land and take off when in use, and the only access points are on the inner track. There’s not so much as a single airlock on the outside.”

“Sentimental monkey,” Ace jibbed, but Ryan could tell he approved. “Please tell me there’s a blood gulch down there?”

“That and many more map replicas.”

Ace did a silent fist pump, but Ryan shook his head ‘no.’

“That’s not why I built it. At least not the primary reason.”

“What does the array do if it’s not a weapon?”

“We got the idea from The Nexus before we ever got our hands on the schematics, so our design is crude but now polished for our purposes. After all, we don’t have to send anything across hundreds of lightyears…just a handful.”

Ace’s eyes widened with pure shock and an equal dose of disbelief.

“You built a mini grid point?”

“Without much gravity out here, we gotta have some fast way to move around our clandestine network.”

“We?”

“The rest of the Clans established networks of secret bases. I’ve just taken it a step further…and yes, I’m willing to share.”

“Where are the other Halos?”

“Inside the nebula and on its perimeter. This isn’t the only way in, and hopefully with the stealth shield nobody will find the door.”

“How fast?”

“Not super speed, but about the equivalent of our current gravity drives.”

“What about the nebula itself? You’re still going to have to run through it.”

“Well, the Halos are more than just grid points. Every 13 minutes they send an automatic pulse of kinetic energy. It took us a long time to calibrate it properly, but…”

“You’ve cored holes through the nebula?” Ace asked, his jaw open.

“Yes, and the pulses keep it clear. It’s a needle shot in and out, but the density is low enough for our shields to handle. If the Halos shut down the nebula will fill back in and we can shut the draw bridge if needed.”

“One or two?”

“Given the length of this one, both ends have to be pulsing to keep it clear. But if one goes down you can send a ship through slower and still make it with proper modifications. It takes a few years to fill back in completely, so you have a window to get there and fix the problem. If not, you’re stuck with sending a very slow shield ship through.”

“How many years did it take the first time?”

“On this leg, it took the crew 17 years to travel 3 lightyears.”

“With or without a pulse from this end?”

“With. We didn’t want to risk them getting stranded due to unknown amounts of friction, so we waited until we got this Halo’s pulse generator operational. It’s a separate mechanism from the magnetic field matrix.”

“So you have to have a special fleet of ships to move through it?”

“Yes. One will be coming in a few days, but I thought you’d like to have a look around the surface first,” Ryan said with a smirk.

“How do you know when to turn the field on if landing isn’t possible when it’s operational?”

“You tell me.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Comm grid?”

“Not needed, though we do send signals through the conduit to bypass the nebula. The Halos also act as relays.”

“But of course,” Ace mocked. “You had to smash as much coolness into this project as possible.”

“Jealous?”

“Much.”

“The ships send out a signal that the Halos read when they get close and they turn on the field…with a proper warning first for all ships in the area to clear out. Once an incoming ship is stopped, the field goes down and you can come and go.”

“What’s the downside of moving through the field?”

“If your ship isn’t configured for it there can be malfunctions, not to mention biological ramifications. We have to pump a hell of a lot of juice inside that arc to get the speeds we need.”

“I believe it. Same for the pulse generators?”

“13 minutes is the best we can do with recharge times, and the deeper you get into the nebula the less effect it has.”

“Wait, what about encountering a pulse from the other side?”

“They cancel each other out when they hit, and our ships’ shields are configured to pass through without resistance. If anyone else tries to get through, the pulses will slow them and maybe even knock them off course.”

“Right into the nebula…”

“There’s that, yeah.”

“Cross traffic?”

“The corridor is wide enough to pass, and everyone holds to the right side of the road.”

Ace smiled at the inside joke, knowing well that there was no ‘up’ or ‘down’ in the galaxy, so they had to arbitrarily assign such parameters.

“And where does this lead?”

“You’ll see when we get there, buddy. I’m not spoiling that part. Pilot, take us down at your convenience. We’ve got some exploring to do.”

“Copy that, Archon. ETA is 18 minutes to the LZ.”

When Ace stepped out of the transport and onto the synthetic deck of the facility’s landing pad he jogged over to the edge and the pitifully small railing there that separated you from a sheer drop off that descended into rocky cliffs that the nearby lake’s waves were crashing against. He looked out across the vast stretch of water and thought he could just barely make out the far side. There was a tiny bit of haze involved, but what caused him to have a wave of nostalgic goosebumps was the fact that the horizon curved up rather than down and that he could see the inside of the ring as the land/water arced up into a tiny ribbon in the distance that stretched over his head then widened again behind him when he spun around, seeing the dense jungle that surrounded the landing pad on the three other sides.

Ryan followed him out to the railing, giving him a moment to soak it in before saying anything, for his face was blank with an expression he knew well from their early days in Atlantis when they were going through Archon basic training together. His teammate was literally dumbstruck, which was better than even Ryan had hoped for.

“Like it?” he asked sarcastically.

“I want one,” he said deadpan, though his eyes were still focused on the ribbon in the sky and the tiny spec of a star off to the left that was at the center of the system that had no idea this Halo even existed.

“Davis wants us to have a backup plan for the far rim if the V’kit’no’sat come back. We’ve been planning survival and harassment strategies in the ADZ. This is another option I came up with.”

“You don’t think they’ll find it?”

“Not unless they follow a ship here.”

“What about the hole in the nebula?”

“They don’t have a reason to look, not to mention it’s tiny.”

“You know, if they do find this they’re liable to just blow it up rather than landing ground troops to fight us.”

“Oh I know. This isn’t our main base. It’s just the portal to get there. We’ve got 6 star systems unavailable to the V’kit’no’sat to hide in, and as of now I’m offering your Clan first dibs on franchise rights.”

Ace frowned. “Franchise rights?”

“I’ve got a master plan in the works, but not a fraction of the resources needed to really get work going on it. Building the transport ships, for example. I’ve got a fleet of 209 right now, so if you’d like to help start spamming those and other items I’ve designed you can be the first to sign up. I’ll bring the other 9s in on it too, and all the Clans eventually, but I wanted you to have first dibs.”

“What is there to claim? Do we each get a Halo?”

Ryan smiled again. “You’ll see once we get inside.”

“You know, I could beat it out of you,” Ace said, finally looking at him instead of the awe inspiring view.

“You’re welcome to try, but I’m not saying anything more about what’s there. Here though, you’re free to ask questions about.”

“How’d you get this built without people knowing it was here?”

“Simple. I built it elsewhere and moved it into position once the superstructure was in place. Beyond that, it’s just a matter of having a construction crew that can keep their mouths shut. You have to keep yours that way too, by the way.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Ace said, looking back at the uptilting horizon again. “This is fucking awesome.”

“That’s what I was going for,” Ryan scoffed. “And I think it’s worth the cost.”

“Shut up and take my money…” Ace said with a laugh.

“Unfortunately, like you said, unless they’re hidden the Halos are target practice.”

“Still worth it, portal or not. This is why a lot of us got involved in Star Force in the first place.”

“I know. Too bad I couldn’t build one to full size.”

“Close enough, buddy. You did good.”

“Thank you,” Ryan said, then letting the moment persist as Ace continued to look around at the sweeping landscapes. This really did feel like being in the video game, and there was no need to rush the tour. Their ride wasn’t here yet and first impressions never repeated themselves, so he was going to let him soak all this in at his own pace…and revel in the total victory he’d just achieved over the other trailblazers in their ongoing construction war.

9

April 22, 3549

Aatrox System (Rim Region)

Darkin (Clan Sangheili Rim capitol)

Jason returned to his command center buried deep beneath the barren moon that orbited a giant red gas giant, just having completed another naval mission in the Sanguine Blade. They’d been blowing apart a Virdeen pirate base and cleaning out yet another point on what he was establishing as a ‘safe’ trade route…which meant he also had to devote troops to patrolling it so that it remained clean.

Right now there was one Clan Sangheili warship there supported by six Belledeir capital ships of mixed sizes. He’d scrapped the entire Belledeir starfighter core when he got here and took control of their civilization, but their carriers were still somewhat valuable in that they could be reworked into mobile search and rescue craft, and one of those was also with his small patrol fleet. It wasn’t much, but now that the Virdeen base was literally nothing more than bits of debris there wasn’t anything left in that empty system to counter them with, and he knew they’d give any potential pirates or raiders entering the system a hell of a hard time poaching ships.

The trailblazer walked past a few Clan personnel at workstations in the small room. One was a Calavari, another two were Protovic, and the fourth was a Urik’kadel. They had their individual oversight tasks to attend to so he didn’t bother them, simply talking a standing position in front of the main hologram next to a pedestal that doubled as a control nexus. He laid a hand on it and accessed the interlink controls, mentally adding the dot that was the Hyfernk System to a list that would update automatically and be sent out through the comm grid he was continually growing, though unfortunately it didn’t connect far enough to reach any of the other trailblazers’ realms.

That was because there were far too many systems nearby that needed them and he couldn’t waste units in a long chain over to Paul, Megan, or the others just to stay in quicker contact. Message packets were continually being ferried through the grid point system and added to the comm relays so it wasn’t a total blackout, but he was still isolated from the others far more than he would have liked.

As he added the Hyfernk dot, three other nearby systems linked to it with glowing golden jumplines indicating that those routes were now open for the commerce traffic that he was slowly developing in order to bring a greater structure to a region that had been incredibly isolated due to the rampancy of the hits on shipping. Systems only a dozen lightyears apart from one another had no connection because interconnecting systems were too dangerous to pass through, forcing them to go around or, in most cases, trade and travel with only a handful of others nearby, making the entire Belledeir region a collection of tiny communities that did not communicate or support one another, and that left them ripe for conquest by those strong enough to take advantage of the situation.

But with every jumpline that Jason cleared out and the addition of comm relays that would follow later, the various races now had the freedom to move about knowing that Star Force was on the patrol and that the hunters were now being hunted. Many were still too fearful to veer off their known and trusted trade routes, but gradually as the brave began making extended journeys and living to tell about it the freeze on interstellar travel was slowly thawing…though only along the links that glowed gold before Jason on the starmap.

The system he’d just added helped, but the main routes were the black holes and a handful of super large stars, all of which he’d already claimed and secured, but a lot of the local races didn’t have gravity drive technology sufficient to make the longer jumps, thus they were very isolated and limited to sometimes less than 7 lightyears per jump. In order to facilitate their movement Jason had begun using the Belledeir to create his own transit network for hire, but he still had too few ships. Those out and about were visibly establishing where the safe routes were and jumping across the longer distances where others could not, bridging the gap for those with the resources to purchase tickets for personnel or cargo, but the first full-sized jumpship capable of carrying other ships wasn’t due to come off the Clan Sangheili shipyards for another 3 years.

Jason hated having to work with so little when everything he produced got gobbled up by the void of need out here, but he kept chipping away year after year and had succeeded in bringing a spider web of stability throughout the otherwise chaotic and barbaric region to which he’d been assigned. Just getting to the point where he’d even consider building civilian ships rather than squeezing out every warship he could was a milestone, but he was still stretched thin on the military front. The Belledeir were secure, but his decision to start sucking a bit of Clan resources into development of a transit grid was due to the necessity of uniting this region in order to avoid more headaches down the road.

He needed partners, and in order to reach out and find them he had to actually have reliable links in place. Infantile as it was, he was already contracting out mining work to various races in bad need of resources their systems couldn’t produce. Jason hiring them provided them with the currency to trade for what they didn’t have and it provided him with additional materiel. He wasn’t going to start giving out advanced technology, so that was something his Clan was going to have to produce on their own, but he was sharing lesser tech that was a huge improvement to a lot of races that were being friendly and not trying to kill their neighbors over scraps.

Economy was a weapon, and that was a lesson Davis had taught him a long time ago. Jason wasn’t just fighting enemies that lived and breathed but fate itself in numerous forms. You couldn’t blast your way out of a food shortage or a plague, meaning that some wars you fought had to occur via different means and Jason badly needed clear jumplanes and as many systems hooked up to his relay grid as he could get, and spam as they did, his Paladin could only build so fast.

As Jason updated the map and searched it for new additions since his last visit he saw an update on Zargor activities with the pullout continuing. Paul’s meeting with them hadn’t been a feint after all. They were pulling back from one invasion zone after another, even abandoning some of the worlds they had taken. That was probably out of fear that Jason would eventually get to them and recover them the hard way, but the fact that they were leaving without even a shot being fired spoke volumes for how spooked they were. Star Force hadn’t backed down when hit, and had in fact hit them back harder and in a way they hadn’t expected. It seemed they were more bark than bite, and now running away with their tails tucked between their legs…despite the fact that they didn’t have actual tails, but the metaphor fit.

If this pullout continued it was going to remove one of seven major headaches Jason had in his region, and that was a major relief. He couldn’t be sure that the Zargor didn’t have some devious plan up their sleeve, but based off of what he’d learned about them he doubted it. They were trying to buy time, pure and simple, now that they saw they couldn’t win head to head and that Star Force was willing to not reinforce smaller worlds they were attacking to instead hit the Zargor where it hurt.

Jason would never leave a system defenseless, but those systems that he hadn’t even known about other than them being a dot on the map had to wait. He hated that, but the strategy had worked. Now with the Zargor disengaging, if it held to course, a lot more of those small worlds would be protected without even sending a single ship to them. They’d still have to deal with raiders and other threats on their own, but the big bad Zargor were not going to be around to threaten them anymore.

Some people would say Star Force had sacrificed some of those races and their worlds in order to make the Zargor back down…and from a misguided point of view that would appear to be correct. But like Star Force’s edict about not killing prisoners, they were under no obligation to actually take prisoners in the first place. The same was true about putting a system under their protection. A lot of them needed it, but if Star Force hadn’t gotten to them yet it was simply a matter of priorities, not selling someone out.

And when you had people dying everywhere and you couldn’t stop most of it, let alone all of it, there came a time when you just had to say ‘fuck it all’ and go on the offensive. Star Force hadn’t quite got that far in over its head, but they’d used the same principle.

When the enemy is making you play defense to the point where they don’t have to defend themselves, you need to call their bluff and make them defend by keeping fleets in reserve. If you never attack their territory they don’t have to leave any ships behind to guard it and can hit you as hard as they like without their population and infrastructure coming to harm.

That’s why the few civilizations that Jason had learned about, via the V’kit’no’sat database and other intel, that were pacifistic to the point where they would only fight when attacked got abused regularly if they didn’t hold a significant technological advantage. It made you a huge target, and fear for your own safety was a weapon you had to wield. If you declared up front that any enemy would not be counterattacked then you were just begging them to come out and use your worlds for a weapons test…then they could just turn around and run safely away.

Races that were totally pacifistic…well, they didn’t last long enough to make the historical records for the most part. The Zargor had wrongly assumed that Star Force was partially pacifistic and they weren’t the first. Doing what was right didn’t mean you were weak, though it did mean you didn’t always strike when you saw an opening. An enemy had to earn that marker, and whereas the Zargor would attack anyone who they saw was vulnerable Star Force would not, nor would they use the most efficient means of killing people.

The Zargor thought winning meant killing or enslaving all of the enemy. For Star Force, defeating the enemy was the objective…and that could occur in many different forms.

The Zargor had misjudged Star Force badly and were now doing the first wise thing he’d seen out of them. They were running away, back to within their original territory for the most part and Jason would kick them the rest of the way back if needed, but he had no illusions that they were going to change their ways. There was always the possibility of that, and they were certainly going to have the time to make a change and prove him wrong, but the Archon would bet credits that they just turned their attentions to targets that weren’t on this side of the map.

And while that meant others out there would come under attack far sooner than before, at least it gave the people in Jason’s assigned region a bit more breathing room…as well as allowing him to reposition pieces of his Sangheili and Belledeir fleets, which he was going to start doing now in the wake of the confirmed Zargor withdrawals.

Jason brought up fleet positions and strength levels on the starmap then got to work moving his virtual pieces around, sending out orders via the relay grid or courier where needed, and transmitting a thank you message to Paul for getting the big bad wolves off his back.

“Do we have confirmation?”

“Yes, Dafchor.”

“Show me,” Cal-com said from the bridge of a conglomerate that he’d been fighting from for the past 12 years on the edge of Skarron territory as he took system after system that he then left his builders in custody of as he pressed onward carving out the new border region the Elders had dictated.

The reconnaissance report from a recently arrived scout ship popped up before him showing a distant Skarron system that was a high traffic trade route within a portion of their empire that the lizards had not encroached upon yet, but were moving steadily towards. The reports showed gradually increasing amounts of ship traffic coming out through that system towards the front, but nothing on a scale that would alarm him. It was just an escalating reinforcement as one would expect when the enemy was pushing into your territory. When fleets were destroyed they had to be replaced, thus the flow of ships in would always be greater than those going out save for the exception of an evacuation…but it appeared the Skarrons weren’t budging and deciding to fight it out to the last ship and last breath.

Cal-com watched a speedy retelling of events the scout had recorded, then slowed it down rapidly as the flow of ships suddenly jumped. There wasn’t a huge convoy coming through, but several with over a thousand ships each. The Skarrons didn’t use jumpships, so it was easy to tell what class these vessels were. Most were warships and they had a small amount of cargo vessels that were probably logistical support traveling with them for however far they’d come to get here.

They didn’t stay in the system under surveillance, but moved through without even bothering to stop until the 9th large grouping redirected to one of the inhabited planets and appeared to be restocking on supplies. There was no visible battle damage being attended to, so Cal-com suspected these ships had come from so far away that they needed to stop off occasionally for provisions, and the fact that most of the convoys coming through didn’t stop here suggested they were travelling different lengths…which meant different points of origin.

The convoys continued to come out of two different jumplines, but they left on the same one. Another indicator that this was a convergence point and probably not the only one. The reinforcements coming in were significant, but not overwhelming, and he didn’t yet understand why the scout ship had returned prior than instructed until he scrolled through the timeline of ship arrivals and saw the numbers continuing to escalate until there was almost constant transit around the star from both incoming jumplines.

“So this is how it looks,” he said softly enough that only his closest aide could hear. “They don’t move en mass, they just send out word to come and they get here whenever they can.”

“How is that not en mass?” the other Voku asked, pointing to the hundreds of thousands of warships moving around either side of the star like a string of ants to get to the outgoing jumppoint, save for a few moving off to refuel at nearby planets.

“There are subtle variations in the fleet movements that tell me they are not under a unified command. The traffic density tends to blur it all together at a casual glance, but these are unique fleets passing through the same location at the same time.”

“The ship counts remain the same regardless, and if this rate continues to persist…”

“It will escalate.”

The other Voku looked at him silently, not voicing the obvious question.

“It is like a flood,” Cal-com elected to explain. “First a little bit trickles in, then a bit more, and a bit more. You have a flow that continues to gain in speed and volume until you suddenly find yourself in over your head and swept away by the current. These ships have not been brought together at a waypoint and then sent here…the front with the Li’vorkrachnika is their waypoint and they will continue coming in far greater numbers from across the Skarron Empire as they get funneled down into fewer and fewer jumplanes.”

“This is sooner than I had hoped,” the Dafchor continued, “but the Crusade is manifesting. If they throw their full might against their primary target then we will have time to complete our invasions and strengthen our defenses, but if they split their attention and send some of their forces against us immediately…”

“What are your orders?”

“Unless the Elders counsel otherwise, we continue as planned and assume they will go after their priority target. If that is true, let us hope the Li’vorkrachnika do them enough damage that they will rethink the wisdom of coming after us in the aftermath. If not, then we stand our ground and find out which civilization is the superior. Either way, we have fighting to do and the clock is ticking.”

10

February 18, 3550

Ozpin System (Occupation Zone)

Middle Zone

“What is it?” Baron Tajmon asked as he heard two pairs of footsteps approaching from behind him and he spun around in his chair to turn his glowing blue Protovic eyes toward them.

“We’ve got our 17th slot,” the Human told him. “Ships are beginning to arrive already.”

Tajmon frowned. “Why haven’t I been notified?”

“An Archon brought them in and just notified us two minutes ago.”

“A special entry?” he asked, rising from his chair and following the two staffers out of his office towards the main control room on the space station that sat in a lonely orbit around the central star, keeping it separate from the 13 habitable planets that were in varying stages of construction.

“They are in great need,” the Kiritas answered. “He cited emergency standard 4.”

“Damn,” the Baron said, knowing that meant these guys, whoever they were, were close to dead due to bad living conditions and other attrition factors. None of the other 16 races sent to this system had rated a 4, and while that meant they weren’t in danger of starving to death it meant he was going to have to handle them with kid gloves as far as work orders went…and that meant he was going to have to recruit volunteers from the other races to help out initially while these guys healed up.

“Who are they?” he asked as they turned out of the hallway and into the Beacon control room for the entire system. This wasn’t the only location for the newest Star Force faction, but everything here was under the Baron’s command and he exercised it from this neutral seda that housed experienced personnel in all categories that were responsible for helping the refugee races sent here assimilate and become part of the empire. Normally that meant his people would advise and demonstrate while the newcomers did most of the building work, but if these newcomers were a standard 4 then it was going to take months, if not years for them to recover health sufficient to join the workforce and he didn’t have the luxury of waiting that long.

“Their name is Dotopa and they’re between 4 and 9 inches long, avian, feathered, and quadruped.”

“So much for manual labor. We’re going to have to start minimech production facilities, but at least we won’t need as much infrastructure to house them. How many are we looking at?”

“93 billion.”

The Baron stopped in his tracks at the top of a staircase that led down onto the main platform.

“Say again?”

“93 billion is the number the Archon quoted me.”

“Which Archon?”

“Vex-761, ViLord ranking.”

“Ok…not a newb then. Did he say how much foodstuffs 93 billion Dotopa would require?”

Neither Administrator knew the answer, but an analyst with incoming data on her screen overhead the question and gave him the number before he was halfway down the stairs.

“440 million, Human equivalent.”

“That’s still a lot,” the Kiritas pointed out.

“Where’s our prep work put us…assuming the Dotopa don’t require special foodstuffs?”

“Bioharvest facilities on planet are 71% complete.”

“310ish then,” he said, doing the mental math as to the output potential. They’d been building up infrastructure in the last empty slot in this system not knowing who or what would come in, and the design goal had them stopping once they hit 500 million Human equivalent foodstuff production. None of the other races sent here had more than 72 million on arrival, and the Baron had thought he was being prudent in his planning, but they were going to fall short. “What are their current reserves?”

“There’s a fleet of Kiritak jumpships escorting them and providing them with supplies. Expiration date anticipated in 8 months, 4 days without additional resupply, but ships are already enroute to extend that mark.”

“Good,” the Protovic said, walking his glowing face up near the equally glowing hologram and competing for luminosity as he saw the ship icons coming into the system near the star. “Route them into a holding orbit around 17 and get an evaluation team assembled. We need to find the healthiest ones and get them into indoctrination immediately. And start assembling construction crews of Berthal and Renti, as many as can be spared from their own assignments. We need those bioharvests up and running at 440 capacity as soon as possible.”

“Materials?”

“Syphon off from others until we can get the food production stabilized, and do we have any information on why we weren’t told they were coming?”

“None, but the Archon’s ship is coming here. ETA just under 4 hours.”

“Good. I want to know why protocol has been breached. If we hadn’t been building ahead...nevermind. I’ll find out what’s going on, meanwhile get everyone activated and in scramble mode. We’ve got 93 billion people to get organized, and their being tiny doesn’t help. Most of this system’s future population is in those ships and we need to get them sorted before any more die.”

“Standard 4 means imminent death, not fatalities already,” the Human pointed out.

“Not in large numbers, no, but out of 93 billion you could lose a million here or there and no one would even notice. We’re not going to be that sloppy, so get on this now.”

“Already am. You were the one with meditation lockout on,” he said with a smile as he grabbed a console of his own and started waking up the people under his command on this station and the various planets out there.

“So I was,” the Baron said, referencing the information blackout he used when he needed to do some contemplative thinking…which was why they’d had to walk in to tell him what was going on. Right now it’d have to wait, for the thinking required meant incorporating data as it came in from the refugee fleet and its Star Force escorts, so he stayed on the main platform walking around the system holo as he oversaw his administrators and other staffers and troubleshooted as issues came up until the Archon’s ship came within realtime comm range, then he retreated to his office and got a life size image of the ViLord standing next to his desk.

“Sorry about the rush,” the Archon offered.

“Yes…what’s the occasion?”

“We didn’t know these guys were coming until they showed up on our doorstep. Took the black hole routes on their own volition then popped up at Garadan asking for sanctuary. They had some pursuers a few days behind them that we dealt with, but it’s safe to say any ship that couldn’t keep up with the flock was lost, and according to their sketchy records more than half didn’t make it.”

“Where did they come from and who was after them?”

“Nexus territory and a race we’re unfamiliar with. They called them the Traquim, and their ships fled as soon as they saw one of their own puff like confetti when we intervened. Low tech on both sides, and the Dotopa have the equivalent of slave syndrome. They’re a mess in the head, and I don’t envy the task ahead of you.”

“Slave syndrome? Are they escapees?”

“Sort of. More like picked on and bullied rather than actually owned. When their worlds eventually got wasted they packed up as many as they could and ran. Numbers from that are…hard to swallow. What you’ve got here is a tiny fraction of their former population and all that we think are left.”

“93 billion is a tiny fraction?”

“So you can understand how messed up in the head you can get when you see so many more die helplessly.”

“Military?”

“Other than ships, no. They have no concept of mechs and most of their construction is done on assembly lines. When a ship is damaged they can’t even repair it unless it can get back to ground. These guys are a mess on numerous fronts.”

“We’ll get to work on them. Thankfully we’ve got a full deck now and that means more help than just pre-existing staff.”

“To which I’m adding more, which I’ll be transferring over shortly. About 22,000 instructors and techs.”

The Baron blew out a relieved breath. “Much appreciated.”

“I’ll be over myself soon and help you make introductions. In the meantime know that their airlocks are a bit…odd. You’ll have to make modifications on your end to access them, and they don’t have dropships or shuttles.”

Tajmon facepalmed, and when he looked up again the Archon’s hologram was gone.

“Save the hardest for last I guess…”

“Alright, impress me,” Rio said as he walked into one of the advanced research labs in Atlantis.

“If you insist,” Yiori Bessmot said, waving a hand towards a display table at the far end. The master tech was among only a handful of researchers working to push the limits of Star Force’s tech as they explored the remaining untouchable technologies in the V’kit’no’sat database, but he’d gone a bit off the reservation on this one and supposedly built something inferior that they had never thought of or cataloged anyone else as having designed.

Rio frowned. “That box?”

“Inside it.”

The trailblazer looked for a lid, but seeing none visually he switched on his Pefbar to have a look on the inside, the top of which was hollow. A little telekinetic pressure on the underside and the seams materialized with him pulling it off entirely and setting it to the side while throwing Bessmot a look.

The tech frowned. “Thought it’d take you longer than that to figure out.”

“Pefbar works wonders,” Rio said, pulling out a wad of material that was slick to the touch and felt like clothing. “This is armor?”

“Put it on. There are three pieces.”

Rio fished around in the bundle and pulled out what looked like pants, setting the rest on the table beside the box. There were no holes in the legs, so Rio just stepped into them and found that they stretched around his shoes loosely, but there was no waist band and they wouldn’t stay up, being far too big for him.

“Explain.”

“You’re supposed to put the top on first. Just hold them up telekinetically for now.”

Rio did as instructed and pulled the top off the table. It had a neck hole but no hand holes. He slid it on and let the baggy shirt hang loose over his waist, with it coming down halfway to his knees.

“And now?”

“Find the zipper and hold for three seconds.”

“Zipper?” he asked, looking in the general area and finding a tiny hard coin, barely the size of his eye’s iris. He pressed his finger to thumb with it in between but nothing happened. When he was about to ask he noticed an identical coin on the shirt edge. He brought them together and pressed, waited three seconds, then the edge of both melted together at the coins and quickly continued out both directions snugging the two together with the extra material disappearing.

“Well that’s nifty,” he said, standing in now trim but still loose clothing and having his hands inside flaps of material without even any finger holes or slots.

“Neck buttons,” the tech instructed. “Press the far left.”

Rio scanned his neck with his Pefbar and found four. Rio touched his covered hand to the one indicated and suddenly the material around his body snugged up, with his fingers materializing as the pouch transformed to fit his digits perfectly and the stretchable coverings on his feet were now slick and shiny as laceless boots.

“From your left…on/off, attach helmet, lock form, and power assist. Use your telekinesis for the lock form or you’re going to have a hand to your neck when you do it.”

“Hmmn,” Rio said, grabbing the last bit of cloth and pulling it over his head. He couldn’t see anything through it until he hit the second button, then an interior HUD lit up and he could see out without having to rely on his Pefbar. He noticed it had also sealed to his neck, meaning the armor now covered him head to toe with no skin showing and no breath mask plate. The air was going straight through the material somehow.

He poked a finger against his arm, finding the armor wasn’t firm. It felt like clothing, so he hit the ‘lock form’ button but as Bessmot had told him, his entire body froze in place with him unable to move. He used his telekinesis to release himself, realizing that he couldn’t have moved his finger to do it anyway, then gave the tech a look he couldn’t see through the solid black face covering. In fact his entire body was covered in an oily black that seemed to soak in whatever light hit it.

“How do I get the armor to firm up without locking it?”

“It is firm,” the tech said with a satisfied smile as he picked up a metal rod nearby and poked Rio in the chest with it gently. There was a ‘clank’ on impact, then the tech hit him with it on the arm and to his surprise it didn’t dent. The clothing held its form exactly, not even twisting his arm back, but taking the momentum against his entire body as if he were a solid piece of rock.

“Whoa,” Rio said. “Now that is impressive.”

“The armor is solid once you form it to your body, but it adjusts to where your body wants it to move. No telepathy involved, it just acts like clothing and lets your body movements dictate how it moves. It obeys your interior movements but defies exterior movements.”

“Any shields?”

“No. Just a pure prototype. It’d have to be a lot thicker to have additional equipment added.”

“Thin as hell and you still got a HUD in,” Rio pointed out.

“Your head doesn’t flex, so I squeezed some more basic thickness there to hide it. This isn’t a replacement for your standard armor by any extent, but I figured you guys would figure out a use for it regardless.”

“Armor in a box? Hell yes. How small will this compact?”

The tech held up his hand. “A little smaller than my fist, all three pieces combined.”

“Emergency survival gear for sure,” Rio said, moving around and checking his flexibility range…which appeared to be infinite. Even with regular Archon armor being gymnastic friendly, there was always some restriction. Here he was feeling literally none.

“It is thermal resistant to decent extremes.”

“Air?”

“Basic filter right now. Will shut down when submerged. I haven’t worked anything more into it than that.”

“Armor rating?”

“17,” he said with a shrug, which meant it was far lower than the standard adept armor rating of 37, which increased with rank and later with armor type variations.

“And you can add more material if you want?”

“I can, and will have to if more features are needed.”

“What’s the power feature? I assume it’s already powered to match my movements?”

“It is, but it will give you a strength boost if you need to lift something or punch through a wall and can’t based on your natural strength.”

“Alright, count me impressed.”

“Thought you’d be. Any initial suggestions?”

“How is it powered?”

“Solari reactors, microscopic. No recharging capability yet, but that’s on my list.”

“How big a person will this fit?”

“It stretches, but armor density will be less with the increase.”

“Can I put it over my standard armor?”

“You could, but I don’t know why you’d want to. It doesn’t require flesh underneath to mimic movement.”

“Battlefield patch to cover armor damage. Is this airtight?”

“You can take it into vacuum, but you’ll suffocate yourself. I guess if you had your other armor underneath you’d be fine for air, as long as your backup worked. Good idea, actually.”

“It’s a way to get people through airless environments without having to try to patch damaged armor…or cargo. I can put anything in this, right?”

“The buttons are exterior, so yes, you can.”

“This is definitely going in our inventory as a supplement. Work on incorporating a stealth field and we’ll have ninja clothes.”

“Additional or variant?”

“Variant.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Nice work,” Rio said appreciatively, pressing the button to disconnect the hood but leaving the rest intact as he pulled it off his head as if it were nothing more than a soft hat. “You mind if I put it through some quality control tests?”

“Please try to break it,” Bessmot urged. “I have several spares and need to know where the failure limits are.”

“You’re just saying that to make me happy.”

“I assure you, I’m not.”

“Well then, I’ll go play with this and report back. How long do the batteries last?”

“About 40 weeks of continuous combat.”

“So…for an Archon about 2 hours?”

“40 weeks,” he reiterated slowly.

“I’ll get back to you,” Rio said with a smile, carrying the hood with him as he left the lab and headed for one of the interior training parks to do some terrain tests. He had concerns about the soles of his feet and holding form too much, but maybe Bessmot had that covered. If not he’d have something to criticize when he got back to him.

When Rio got out into the hall and out of view of the tech he hopped up and down, then did a few jumping jacks followed by a backflip then a cartwheel, drawing some odd looks from the few people in the corridor ahead of him. Rio ignored them and did a few more agility tests before returning to a casual walk, suppressing the huge grin that he felt inside. This was supercool, and now the idea of clothing having an armor rating in videogames didn’t seem so absurd.

Now he could throw on a T-shirt and have it block bullets for real…or a Batman outfit.

“Cape,” he said to himself, already thinking up potential applications. “I definitely need a cape.”

Leonidas

1

May 18, 3560

Twan System (Expanded Region)

Heffen

Nero-22834 stood on the bridge of one of the four Clan Scorpion Invader-class jumpships that had just entered planetary orbit having blown by the Mendz defense ships around the system’s star. Their naval fleet was pathetic compared to Star Force technology, as were most in the Expanded Region, but the forces in this system and on the planet below were definitely hostile despite the lack of initial combat. Plus the Mendz weren’t stupid, thus their defense ships here were keeping their distance, for they knew that Star Force had enough weaponry to blow apart anything they had.

“Contact the planetary capitol,” Nero said, standing in a comm circle that would transmit his full body image to the planet below when contact was made rather than just a torso or headshot. He was prepared to wait upwards of half an hour to get a reply, but there was no hesitation on the part of the Mendz, for their representative appeared before the Archon in a simulated vid screen into which Nero’s hologram was being translated, for the primitive planet didn’t have hologram technology…nor much else save for a signature natural strength that had allowed them to conquer 4 other nearby systems.

“State your purpose,” the snarling, cat-like face said in a loosely diplomatic tone.

“You are in violation of the treaty of Adorez. Per stipulations agreed to 53 years ago, your planet is now forfeit and Clan Scorpion is here to claim it.”

“We no longer acknowledge that treaty or your legitimacy. The Mendz will do as they please and will not be beholden to others, including your Star Force.”

“This is not a negotiation,” Nero said without missing a beat. “We are here to take possession of the planet. I expect to fight, but am obligated to give you a chance to surrender.”

“You know that we will not.”

“Of course, but protocol must be followed and your deaths chosen by you. We’re not the murdering butchers, after all.”

“Your offer is dismissed. While we cannot match you in orbit, but you cannot take this world. Our planetary shields will not fall and our Tabers cannot be overcome beneath them. The idea that we would surrender to 4 of your vessels is insulting. If you wish to do battle bring a bigger army, otherwise do not waste our time.”

“These are all we’re using, and I’ll grant your space forces immunity from attack so long as they reciprocate and do not attempt to assist the forces on the ground…where we both know this will be settled.”

“Settled? If we defeat you, you will send another larger force to try again.”

“That’s always an option, but our forces have better things to do than overwhelm you. My four ships are sufficient to defeat you, though it will be something of a challenge. If we get sloppy, you might prevail.”

“And a warrior deserves a challenge.”

“You wouldn’t know,” Nero said icily. “You kill the helpless and gang up on the weak. When have you ever fought a fair fight?”

“Is it our fault they don’t oppose us more?”

“It’s your fault in your choice of targets. We gave you a chance with the treaty and now you’ve wasted it. People who don’t learn will be conquered, and now you fall into that category.”

“Then let us broker one more deal. One which we cannot back out of.”

“The time for deals is over. This world will be ours one way or another. Surrender or fight.”

“We intend to fight, but we have something you want and I’m willing to trade.”

“And that is?”

“Hostages.”

Nero’s face turned grim. “Who?”

“Slaves taken from Vishaw and Belni, numbering somewhere around 230,000. I will trade you all of them in exchange for your word.”

“My word?”

“That this invasion that you have chosen will settle the matter between us. Your four ships vs our entire planet. If you truly believe you can defeat us with so little, swear to it. If we win, Star Force will never enter this system again. If you win, we will be dead but you will have your hostages as well.”

“And if I don’t agree, you’ll do what with them?”

“Whatever we please, but you will not be allowed to retrieve them. Star Force’s word is good, and there are some neutral observers here that can witness. We agree to fight with what we have in this system and it will settle the outcome between us. Our word you do not have to trust…”

“Nor would I.”

“…but yours is trusted. Should you break it here others would know. I challenge you to fight for this world with the forces you have brought and to live with the permanent outcome.”

“And your other worlds?”

“Irrelevant. I want immunity for this one.”

“So you can base out of here to hunt in others as much as you want with a sanctuary to return to that we won’t hit?”

“I see we understand one another.”

“And you think the hostages are worth that?”

“What I think doesn’t matter. It’s what you think and if you are sufficiently ranked to make a promise that others will hold to.”

“I have the rank,” the ViLord promised. “So surrender is totally off the table?”

“It is.”

“Even for your civilians?”

“What becomes of them after I am dead is not my concern. The military will fight to the death.”

“Then let us make this a military fight,” Nero said, entertaining his unusual willingness to negotiate terms of battle. Usually most people negotiated to avoid battle, but the Mendz had a fighter mentality that the Archon was already well aware of having led a few Clan Scorpion units in support of the local defense forces on the worlds that the Mendz had expanded to. With his help they’d pushed them back from some planets and continents, but this was their homeworld and he’d successfully argued for 4 full Invaders to take these guys out…otherwise no one would have, for the entire Expanded Region was too large and too wild to control save for a sprinkling of Star Force worlds and a few roaming patrols that Nero was a part of.

“Meaning?” the Mendz asked.

“If we take cities and regions from you, your civilians will not attempt sabotage or suicide after the combat has subsided. They become the property of the victor along with the buildings and other assets at those locations. There will also be no destruction of such assets in order to avoid the enemy capturing them. I am referring to non-military assets.”

“You want our people alive?”

“If I wanted you dead I’d just bombard the planet.”

“You don’t have the firepower to get past our shields.”

“After I took your shields down through a ground assault,” Nero clarified.

“Warrior vs warrior then?”

“I don’t consider you warriors, but your point is taken. Yes, military to military only, though your civilians can assist you during combat if they wish. But afterwards, they must behave as property. Do you have the rank to achieve that?”

“Those who do are listening.”

“Compliance of your civilians would be required for us to hold to the agreement. Should they not behave as instructed during the battle and we should lose, their misbehavior negates the immunity agreement.”

“Interesting. So you are comfortable with the basic arrangement?”

“We can beat you with 4 ships, so yes, I’m comfortable with the basic arrangement.”

“One moment please,” the Mendz said, with the screen turning to oscillating static.

“What are you doing?” an Archon ranger asked him, standing a few steps out of view.

“I didn’t expect this, so I’m just going with it.”

“We’d really promise to never come back?”

“If I made the deal Star Force would honor it…especially since nobody cares about what’s happening out here with all the combat going down in the Rim Region and the possibility of more on the lizard border.”

“But they don’t know that?” she asked deviously.

“No, they don’t,” Nero said with a smirk. “Do you think we can win?”

Before she could answer the comm line returned and the same Mendz appeared with a bit of movement coming into view from the right from wherever he had just been.

“Civilians will behave as property of the owner of each city and geographical region. Planetary defense assets will not be targeted, and in return we will allow you an immune surface base in a variety of possible locations that we stipulate and you will choose from. Access to and from the surface will be available from that point continuously, but the remainder of the defense shields will remain raised.”

“Accepted.”

“We also want a time limit so you cannot stall inside your base. How long do you believe you will need to conquer the planet?”

Nero glanced to the side and used some telepathic controls to bring up planetary data he’d already become familiar with. “There are 853 major cities on the planet. We will complete conquest within 20 years.”

“Too long.”

“18, but once a city has been held for 2 continuous years it become immune to counterattack.”

The Mendz’s eyes focused off screen for a moment.

“10 years.”

Nero shook his head. “No. We do not have the troops to spread out in defensive allotments across the planet. In exchange for preserving your shield generators and planetary defense batteries for use against non-Star Force units in the eventuality that we fail and leave, we have to be granted the ability to fight and claim territory without the burden of excessive defensive measures. If you wish less than 18 years then the timeframe for immunity has to be lower than 2 years. You may be in a hurry to gain your immunity, but do you fear we will have an advantage in the long term?”

“15 and 1.8, with reconquest resetting the immunity timer.”

“Contingent on every individual brought here from other worlds be released to us. If we find evidence that even one wasn’t turned over, it nullifies the agreement.”

“You want our other slaves as well?”

“Slaves, prisoners, anyone who was brought here. Let’s just clear the battlefield of everyone but your people.”

“1.9 in exchange for that caveat.”

“Agreed, with an immunity for any craft we arrange to visit the system to evacuate the people being turned over to us. We won’t have enough room on our ships, so we’ll have to contract out with others and I want them untouched.”

“And the same will hold to our ships coming and leaving the system?”

“The fight will only be on the surface and in atmosphere, and transports coming up and down from our immune base will also be immune with a geographical corridor established to denote proper boundaries.”

“Then we are in accord. Even one city possessed by us at the end of 15 years will result in our victory and you will leave to never return?”

“Yes…contingent that you hold to all agreed upon terms.”

“We will.”

“Base locations?”

“We will designate regions to choose from soon, then come to an accord for the exact parameters of the immune base.”

“And you want to think it through carefully?”

“We will not take long,” the Mendz said, cutting the comm enroute to conferring with the other vermin on how best to work their strategy. Possession of the planet had just become a war game and he expected them to work every advantage they could manufacture.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” the ranger said as other bridge crew were giving him odd looks. “Orbital bombardment was our most potent weapon.”

“And it bought us hostages that we otherwise would have tried to rescue or seen thrown up in front of us as living shields. We should have a clean battlefield now, and access to the surface.”

“But we can’t snipe their mechs from orbit…and they have far more than we do.”

“Their Tabers are junk. If we’re good, we can work through them over time.”

“They’re going to play for time.”

“Of course they are, but this is a challenge worthy of our Clan rather than an automatic win…and I’m not disappointed with that when it’s what enables us to secure hostages.”

“Are you sure we can do this with the numbers we have and the timeframe? Attrition alone…”

“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Nero said, turning to an Archon striker on the other side of him. “Assemble all mechwarriors in the pit and link in the other three ships.”

“What about the pilots and infantry?”

“Key them in through relays, but keep them in separate locations. In fact, key in everyone on the ships no matter where they are.”

“How long?”

“Half hour.”

“Going,” the striker said, disappearing from the bridge as Nero sat back down in his command chair and began pulling up some data. They all had a lot of work to do, for he’d given the Mendz a significant advantage in order to get the deal…but he knew his Clan could still pull this off.

“Plans have changed,” Nero said as he stood on a small platform in the middle of a circular briefing room with tiered seats ringing him on all sides in which sat the mechwarriors assigned to this ship whether they be Archons or Regulars. A few small screens on the podium in front of Nero showed the other pits holding the mechwarriors on the other three ships who would be seeing a hologram of the Archon so detailed it would look like he was actually there.

All four ships were sitting in orbit alongside one another so lag wasn’t an issue, but unlike typical Warship-class jumpships the Invaders only carried 12-20 drones each as opposed to the standard 60-100. The rest of the interior of the Invaders was made up of cargo and living space meant to accommodate the mechs onboard. Clan Scorpion was a mech-centered civilization and as such they and several others used the Invader-class jumpships to ferry around ground assault teams with a mech-heavy focus. The naval drones were meant for ship defense and limited offensive options necessary to get the mechs to ground and support them.

The same went for the limited aerial and infantry, who on the Invaders were meant purely for support operations. The mechs were the combat method of choice and as such the Invaders carried a lot of them. Each ship carried between 1000-1800 mechs, but typically only had 500 mechwarriors…a full galaxy each, meaning a total of 2000 for this invasion with multiple mechs available to them along with repair facilities that were capable of fabricating entirely new machines given the right materials, though he didn’t have the resource gathering teams for that. Clan Scorpion was going to have to conserve their battle machines, otherwise the Mendz could win just by damaging them in losing battles.

“The mission we came here to accomplish has changed,” Nero began, addressing those seated in front of him and those behind his back, but he wouldn’t be rotating around to give everyone a look at his face. Such juvenile techniques were for speech makers and Nero was a warrior along with everyone else in this room. They could hear just fine looking at his back, but a hologram of the planet popped up above his head that gave them something that everyone could see as it slowly spun around.

“We are still going to conquer this world, but in order to get a large number of hostages that the Mendz have taken from other worlds we have negotiated the terms of battle. We only have the four ships we brought without the option of reinforcement and 15 years to take every city on this planet without the help of orbital bombardment. If we cannot do that then we lose, withdraw, and never return. The Mendz want a planet of their own that Star Force will not touch, and I’ve accepted their offer in order to get the hostages out.”

“That means we have a tough fight ahead of us rather than a cleanup mission. We knew we were outnumbered coming here, but the Mendz were never really a threat to beat us. Now they are, because we can’t take our time. Their Tabers are crap, but if they can take out or even damage one of our mechs for every 100 we kill they will win by attrition. This cannot be a battle for kills. It has to be for cities. We take one and hold it for 1.9 years and it becomes ours permanently. We won’t have to defend it after that point. If the Mendz try anything devious then they break the deal, at which point we’ll already have the hostages so they lose out…which is why I think they’ll hold to the terms.”

“We have to fight, kill, and keep from taking damage…with an emphasis on the latter. If we get too cautious we will take ground too slowly. There are 853 cities, which means we have to take a city every 6.4 days on average to conquer the planet in 15 years. That is doable, but difficult without letting the attrition eat us away. I’ll be arranging for shipments of food to supplement our supplies, but we will not be getting any replacement war material per the terms of this deal. We will be salvaging as many damaged or destroyed mechs as we can, so if at all possible defend the debris and don’t let the Mendz take it or destroy it further.”

“I can’t over emphasize this point. Time and attrition are our enemies as much as the Mendz are, and expect them to be smart enough to use them against us at every turn. We can’t afford to be better than the enemy this time. If we are, we lose. We have to be way better to pull this off, and I want input from all of you on any possible advantage or disadvantage you spot over the next 15 years. Do not assume anything is frivolous. We have a supply cap people. And if you don’t know what that means I suggest you take to the video game archives and learn how much of a bitch it can be...”

2

August 11, 3560

Twan System (Expanded Region)

Heffen

Sarah Averdy climbed into the cockpit of a waiting Nova Cat-class mech, sliding in through the back hatch then sealing herself inside with heavy armor plates covering the entrance. Stripping down to her underwear, she stowed her clothing and shoes in an optional side compartment before stepping down into the control sphere. Once inside, the mech began scanning her mind and allowed her to interface with its controls remotely with her prompting several hatches nearby to open and extrude mechanical arms that came up next to her body.

The mechwarrior went old school and began strapping herself into the manual controls for the mech just in case the neural link went down in battle. Such things were rare with all the redundancies, but she didn’t want to be in a pitched battle only to have to sit and take fire while strapping into the manual controls if the neural interface died, so she was doing it now and getting movement matching arm and leg flaps secured to her body along with the foot pads and finger controls that always felt better against bare flesh.

When she was strapped in to her liking she triggered the restraining field that would have held her body in an upright standing position if she hadn’t had the manual equipment deployed, but she still wanted herself in what the mech pilots referred to as ‘statue’ mode so her limbs didn’t flop around while her mind was mostly disconnected from them, for when she fully engaged the piloting program her senses were 95% replaced with those of the mech, with her mind essentially being transplanted into the new mechanical body.

She saw through its sensors, felt its movements and restrictions, and knew the power charge and ammo levels of every piece of equipment as if it were different parts of her body. Light pain stimuluses would even register damage to the mech, but nothing so extreme that it would distract her. Just a little prickling here and there to get her attention and such levels had been programmed into her profile long ago so whatever mech she hopped into would identify her and reconfigure itself to her settings based off a neural scan or a seldom used physical pin attached to her uniform should she find herself in a mech that wasn’t part of her unit and didn’t have her settings preloaded.

That pin would also act as a data recorder linked in with the mech’s own systems. Should her steed be destroyed she could carry information of how that defeat had occurred with her assuming she lived through the ordeal, but it would work just as well from the bin as it would on her body, and if she needed to evacuate the mech her clothing wasn’t going to offer much protection. Better to be a little more efficient with the manual controls if they were needed, but the stripping down was also a fad that seemed to increase one’s connection to their machine. It was mostly psychological mind games, but there was just enough truth in it that the practice hadn’t disappeared with the advent of the neural interface technology.

The Archons had had the ability to mentally control their mechs long before the Regulars did, but now they were on par and the specialists like Sarah were back to having an advantage. She’d never make the mistake of underestimating an Archon, but they had so many different duties and skills to train for that they’d never be as good as a mechwarrior that spent all their time focusing on their specific skillset. The Archons knew this too, which was why most of Clan Scorpion’s mechwarriors were Regulars and the Archons that fought alongside them had to be damn good just in order to keep up.

The leadership of the Clan was still Archons that could do everything better than Sarah. Cora-005 had founded the Clan and basically wrote the book on mech warfare, and the trailblazer’s skills were far beyond hers…and when you were dealing with mechs that usually meant little variations and subtleties in combat, for most of their damage potential came from the raw machines themselves. It was up to a good mechwarrior to get more out of their machines and avoid simple, straight throw downs of weapons against one another…and that’s exactly what she couldn’t afford today as they started their first attack on the Mendz.

When her mind connected to the Nova Cat she was also linked into the battlemap so that she didn’t just see it, but could feel all the units around her. Not just those in the mechbay, but all across the base and even those units already in the field assaulting two nearby cities. They were a few hours ahead of her and trying to draw out whatever Mendz strategy might be in play, with her and the others not yet released into combat studying the battlemap data live as they got their first good look at the Tabers here.

Most matched the mechs that the Mendz had been using on other worlds but they also had a few new varieties…all heavies that contained a decent amount of firepower. The Tabers had armor, shields, and a decent movement package but where woefully inferior to the Clan Scorpion mechs, especially in firepower. The Tabers were armed with plasma weapons, particle slugs, and some better than average missiles. Those would be the most dangerous threat to Sarah and her Clansmen today, and from the look of it the Mendz weren’t holding back their ammunition.

“Damn they’re getting lit up,” Zander Ironwood said from the Madcat-class mech that was walking out of its berth beside her as Sarah stepped out herself and turned to the right to follow him and the other three members of her support star. “They can’t even get close to the cities without their shields going down.”

“They don’t have an infinite supply of missiles,” she pointed out. “We just have to weather the storm until we get a break.”

“There won’t be one,” their star leader, Michael Tanison countered. “They have factories across this planet pumping out more round the clock. If they stall us long enough they win, so don’t expect a let up. We’re going to have to punch our way in.”

“We’ll take damage,” Zander objected as the five mechs walked outside into the daylight of the base as other mech bays were also releasing 5-group ‘stars’ of mechs to meet up with Ryan-93888, who would be leading the assault on a third nearby city currently choked with aerial fighters that would make any hot drops difficult, thus they were going to march overland to get there and dare the fighters to come within their anti-air range.

“That’s what they’re going to try and force,” Tanison agreed. “We have to make it less than they want but avoid a standoff.”

“And how do we do that?” Swittni asked, the lone Urik’kadel along with the four Humans in their star.

“I have some ideas, but it’s Ryan’s call.”

“Not much terrain to work with,” Sarah pointed out as the two madcats, her nova cat, and two starbursts ran in a single file line across the prefab deck plates until they passed out through one of four gates and onto the soft brown/green soil of the Mendz capitol planet. The little plants squishing beneath her mech’s feet were only inches tall and covering most of the area around the base, with very little in the way of hills or other line of sight blockers between them and their distant target…meaning they’d be out in the open for the Mendz to strike at will.

“That’s why we make our own,” Tanison said as he led his star out behind a huge Donatello-class walker that already had a head start on them.

“Geez,” Sarah said, seeing the six-legged behemoth had been heavily retrofitted. “It doesn’t have any weapons left.”

“Those extra shield generators are going to cover the lead thrust while we snipe support, so we’re just going to ride in the back for now.”

“Copy that,” Swittni confirmed, bringing his Starbright-class mech around on Sarah’s left and forming the traditional ‘2 ahead of 3’ double line that their star typically traveled in when terrain wasn’t an issue. All around them other mechs were walking or running into place and forming up with their units. A lot of them were Neo-class frontline mechs designed with less weaponry but by far more agility. They fought like giant infantry, punching and kicking as much as shooting, while the traditional ‘stiff’ mechs like Sarah’s star was using carried the bigger guns.

What followed was several hours of walking, during part of which Sarah disconnected and let the autopilot keep her on route while she stretched out and grabbed some water. Mech cockpits weren’t huge, but they did double as tiny living compartments given how much time a person could spend in one in the field. After all, having to send a mech back to base so you could relieve yourself wasn’t viable on extended distance missions like this.

Sarah made sure to keep appraised of the situation when she took her break, then was back with her mind resuming control of the toe-running mech when the Tabers showed up on her visuals. She’d been monitoring them via the battlemap and other people’s points of view, but now hers was full of tiny little figures on the horizon…and they were numbering in the tens of thousands.

When the mech army that Sarah was part of got within missile range the Tabers generated a cloud of wash above them as it looked like every one of them fired at the same time. There were so many missiles in play she couldn’t even guess at the number herself, but the mech’s onboard computer/sensors could count so she knew exactly how many of them were coming into the sky and her specific region…and the fact that it was a constantly changing figure as the Tabers launched more than one salvo.

Sarah got a waypoint change and she sprinted her mech for a few steps to the right as her star got closer together with each other and the other 17 stars alongside them. Coupled with another 6 quadruped Porcupine-class walkers, the 96 mechs held as close together as they could around the refitted heavy walker with it shrinking its shield radius slightly before the first of the missile waves hit.

Primitive as the Mendz tech was, it wasn’t that primitive and the impacts on the umbrella-like shield over her gave her a wave of goosebumps that pushed through her mech senses and took prominence for a moment. She could see the shield level readings from the donatello drop considerably, and even with Star Force’s impressive recharge rate the protective barrier was getting chewed down alarmingly fast as sometimes over a thousand missiles hit within a second.

Sarah didn’t receive the order, but apparently Ryan realized the same thing as part of the still walking formation broke and made way for the porcupines to head to the edge of the donatello’s shields. They all kept moving forward, she knew, to help make them harder to hit and the dirt hurricane behind, and to a lesser extent in front of them testified to the lack of accuracy involved. Spoofing gear was preventing easy lock-ons, so it was probably the result of the Taber pilots having to manually aim and fire their missiles to predetermined locations, given the arcs they were flying through…and a moving target was always harder to anticipate and hit.

But even with the numerous misses it was clear that they weren’t going to be able to hide under here long enough to get to the enemy. They could be firing back even now with their long range weapons but Ryan hadn’t given the attack order yet. Why they didn’t snipe down a few mechs and eliminate some missiles coming at them was curious, but she did know the reason the porcupines were moving out to the edges of the formation.

When they got there they walked underneath the gap between ground and overhead shield and began firing their anti-air weaponry up into the missile swarm, but not without cost. Several missiles hit them at first, deflecting off their own much weaker shields, but then the area directly above each porcupine became a torrent of tiny energy blasts that shredded everything coming in at them. Eventually that torrent rose up higher and higher until more than a third of the incoming missiles were going down before they could land on target.

Sarah checked the stats and saw the estimated time to shield failure extend greatly. If they pushed the donatello to its limit then they could get within medium weapons range…but no. The stupid Mendz began falling back in groups, with some remaining to continue firing and others turning around to run a kilometer back and form another line. They fired again while the front line retreated, thinking to extend the barrage before the Clan mechs could get too close.

“Are you serious?” someone in another star asked, laughing.

“They just gave us our window, people,” Ryan said, addressing everyone in his attack group. “When I give the order, break by stars and poke hard. The donatello will be holding a creeping position and provide cover for cycling mechs. Don’t get greedy or hesitant. We have to eat up a lot of these guys here and now before they learn from their mistakes, but there’s no way we’re taking all of them down today. Get what you can and fall back when needed.”

“And if they fall back inside the city?” another Archon on the other side of the donatello from Sarah asked.

“Then expect traps. If it comes to that we’ll regroup and probe accordingly, but these guys know they need to mass fire on us to be effective and they can’t do that with buildings in the way. Break order in 25,” he said, with a countdown immediately popping up on Sarah’s mental stats.

“Here we go,” Tanison said over their star’s private channel. “Sarah, you have lead.”

“On it,” she said, holding to their cruising formation until the countdown finally expired. When it did all the bipedal mechs took off running at maximum speed, looking like a bee hive had just got whacked and suddenly started stinging back at the guy with the big stick. In this case that meant the sea of Tabers ahead that were still firing missiles, but fewer of them now, offset with ranged projectiles launched from crude railguns.

Sarah accelerated her nova cat and poked out ahead of her star while making sure not to run into other mechs as they all fanned out. She immediately fired the two cleansing beams in her big right arm in sequence, the first of which hit a Taber in its chest and punched all the way through the forward plate, but missed hitting anything vital as the machine continued to fire from a stationary position along with the others beside it.

A hail of projectiles hit her mech, bouncing off its shields and draining them with each hit. There were so many Tabers in front of them that there was literally nowhere to go without taking fire, for they were lined up shoulder to shoulder and firing what looked like invisible ammunition until her nova cat peeked into plasma range and drew a green curtain of blasts as she swung her mech to the side and ran laterally, just getting kissed with the dying flames of the plasma as she returned fire with the four mauler cannons in her other arm.

Her mech walked sideways while her top torso rotated to stay on target, pummeling two Tabers so badly that the armor was literally melting off and falling like water to the ground. She added in a sweep with both cleansing beams that hit some six mechs in total, then combined with the damage from the rest of her star the front line of 26 Tabers near their position all went down…only to have those behind them step up and begin firing in their place on the line that stretched to both sides further than Sarah could see, though there was a bit of a flanking curl starting to develop in it.

Then the two madcats in her star launched their own missiles. At first it was a small salvo of individuals, meant to do damage if they hit but also to proc any anti-air defenses the Tabers might have. A few of them were taken down prior to impact, but the others punched through the Tabers’ shields like they were popping soap bubbles, then proceeded to eat away chunks of armor…but that was only the cover fire for the much fatter missiles that followed a split second later.

They landed with a thud, not exploding, and dropped to the ground spread out in a predetermined pattern. Sarah recognized them as ‘birthday presents’ and saw that they were sitting some 6-14 rows back in the Taber line a moment before they detonated, sending additional munitions out laterally and obliterating everything around them in a radius of 230 meters. Additional concussion damage was racked up after that, and oh so quickly the precisely formed Mendz lines now had huge holes filled with debris in them for the Clan mechs to jump into.

And Sarah did literally jump…following a nearby neo in and running her mech up near to pointblank range and knocking down four more Tabers with her maulers before hitting her jump jets and launching up and over their intact lines to land in one of those craters. She fired throughout the flight arc, then began running around evasively inside and daring the Mendz to shoot at her and not hit each other all the while distracting them away from the neos that were going to work hand to hand with the front liners.

As it turned out they didn’t care, firing on her with the intent to destroy no matter how many of their own they hit. Her shields dropped below 50% quickly, but there was so much additional weaponsfire hitting friendly targets that it was worth it as she got closer to some of them to use as blockers, leaving them intact rather than shooting them down and opening up firing lines for three or more enemy mechs further out.

Not long after, the rest of her star joined her jumping in over the other Tabers and forming up into their star pattern in a rotating circle that kept them moving at all times and mowing down the enemy with so many weapon cycles that Sarah couldn’t guess at a count, but when all of their shields were getting perilously low her star leader signaled for a retreat and they fought their way back through what remained of the front lines where the neos were still busy at work building a debris field as the Mendz fired at her star in retreat.

They also followed them past the neos, not being able to run as fast but clearly not wanting the weak mechs to get away. They made the mistake of getting the attention of the donatello by pushing too far out and it lowered a section of shield directly in front of them…with the Tabers running into it and bouncing backwards, falling to the ground where they had a hard time getting back up.

Sarah’s star never gave them that chance. They momentarily halted their retreat and turned around to unleash hell on the fallen Tabers, then they moved out far behind the donatello and watched the fireworks as their shield counters slowly climbed back up. Once they all hit full they’d go back in and add to the carnage being unleashed for a few more rounds then it’d be a full retreat, for the distant flanks were filling up with the sight of approaching Tabers and they did not want to get caught in a crossfire from three directions.

There’d be time to evaluate and keep score afterwards, but right now it was all about doing as much damage as they could while keeping their own mechs intact and so far Sarah’s nova cat didn’t have a scratch on her armor…but neither did the city that was their actual goal. Dying as they were, the Mendz were delaying its capture and there was a time limit to this invasion, odd as that sounded, but the enemy had given up their hostages so Star Force was going to honor the terms.

15 years and over 800 cities to capture and hold…and right now they couldn’t even get inside one of them.

3

August 13, 3573

Zordon System (Ninja Monkey territory)

Alpha

“Five here,” Peter-493 said, pointing to the holographic map around which Morgan and her Clan leaders were assembled for yet another troubleshooting session, “and two more on the edge of this nebula.”

“No,” Jenna-732 said with a wave of her hand as if erasing his invisible markings. “We need a scattering along the base. Stop thinking 2 dimensionally.”

“I’m not. I’m thinking of what’s on the most direct line of attack.”

“We don’t know where they will come through,” Gary-933 pointed out, for the Skarrons’ Crusade had barely begun hammering back the lizards, though the records coming back from the scouts made for interesting entertainment as their overpowering spamming ability was getting schooled in what ‘spamming’ truly meant.

“Which is why we need to focus on a spherical defense perimeter,” Jenna reiterated.

“We’re the shield and we need to make it as strong as possible,” Peter said firmly. “They won’t take any roundabouts when they think they can just bowl us over. They’ll hit along here,” he said, drawing a line around a small region in the floating map.

“We can’t gamble on where we think they’ll hit us,” Morgan said, her arms across her chest as she stood beside her four most trusted Ninja Monkeys…the four that ran the Clan for the most part. Peter oversaw their infrastructure development and logistics, essentially doing part of the duties their current Marquis Devon handled and giving the Ninja Monkeys some stability in that department as various Marquises came and went. Davis still used the Clans as practice for his Monarchs, but Morgan had grown to hate the turnover and had put Peter in charge of keeping the Marquis on track and in line so not to make any rookie mistakes that could hurt the Clan when it was needed the most.

Jenna was their ‘Admiral,’ not as good as Paul, Roger, or Liam, but she had higher naval marks than Morgan did while the rest of her skills didn’t match up with the trailblazer. Morgan liked/hated having someone better than her in the Clan, but Jenna’s skills were too valuable to ignore and she’d become a leading pillar of stability that didn’t clash with their trailblazer founder at all. The two were solid on the naval front and where Morgan couldn’t figure something out Jenna usually would…and vice versa.

Andre-155 was the head of their mech division, to which the Ninja Monkeys had put a heavy priority…not just for use against Skarron walkers, but because she knew that the only way to effectively fight V’kit’no’sat on the ground was with mechs. Sending infantry against Era’tran or Brat’mar was effectively suicide, for the V’kit’no’sat in their armor literally were walking, agile, and very smart tanks…and the best way to counter tanks was with mechs, with some special prototypes that the Ninja Monkeys had been field testing for the past century designed specifically for that task, though they still needed a lot of refinement against actual targets.

Last of the four was Gary, who headed up their aerial division. He did not have a higher rating than Morgan in that division, but he was semi-specialized in it and that was something she could not afford to do. She was head of the Clan and had to oversee everything, and having Gary and others working to develop new strategies and equipment to battle the Skarrons from the air absent naval firepower was a burden that she’d gladly taken off her shoulders.

Like it or not, Clan Ninja Monkey had grown into a small empire of its own at this point and there was literally too much going on for her to micromanage…thus she’d learned to delegate responsibility to those she could trust, and these four were it.

“Our skirmisher outposts have to be located where it’s convenient for us,” she continued. “Then we’ll adapt to them.”

“We don’t know what numbers we need to prepare for,” Peter complained, “and that makes it difficult to plan.”

“I know, but you’re thinking more along the lines of playing these dumb bastards for fools and baiting them in. We can’t take the chance that they’ll get smart to it or accidentally pick another invasion corridor. We have to be solid on all fronts.”

“Then I suggest locations that will cause frustration and higher levels of attrition. If they choose to bypass them because of that it’ll give us bases behind their lines.”

“If they pass by…” Gary added with incredulity. “Based off what we’ve seen so far, they’re obliterating everything in sight like a starving Archon in a donut shop.”

“And we don’t know how much attrition they’ll suffer going through the lizards,” Andre added, “so guessing is pointless. We need to be prepared to get hit hard, no matter what we’re expecting.”

“We still need a front line,” Peter argued. “If not here, then where?”

Before anyone could answer, the door to their private planning center opened and another Archon entered.

“Ever learn to knock?” Jenna asked, mildly perturbed.

“New data,” Ira-151882 said, holding up a datachip.

“Why didn’t you just send it?”

“Because this will take some narrating,” she said, looking at Morgan. “With your permission?”

“If it’s not good, Jenna gets to beat you up,” she said deadpan.

“It comes from the Voku,” Ira said, sliding the chip into a slot on the holoprojector and overriding their map. “The Skarrons aren’t just fighting the lizards.”

“Who else are they hitting this early?” Peter asked.

“Someone that neither us nor the Voku knew about,” she said, bringing up a much larger map and highlighting a small area near the growing Crusade front. “They’ve got at least 3 systems to their name, but speculation goes much higher. Two are currently under attack and they’re doing a better job of holding off the Skarrons than the lizards are.”

“Higher tech?” Jenna asked.

“Much. Similar to some of the new races in the Rim Region. They’re getting hit hard, but they’re also preemptively hitting the Skarrons in addition to defending their own turf. The Voku estimate they’re not going to be able to hold those two systems, but a curious thing about it is this…”

Ira brought up visuals from the system not currently under attack, which showed both this new race’s ships mingling around a star with the lizards’ and not exchanging weaponsfire.

“They’ve found another dupe of an ally,” Morgan commented.

“Possibly, and even if they’re just non-interfering neighbors they’re going to help slow down the Skarron advance. How much, there’s no way of telling with more reinforcements continuing to pour in. Without a final number to guess at there’s no way of speculating, but it’s safe to say that unless these guys have a lot more worlds in reserve they’re going to get run over soon.”

“What were they hitting back at?” Jenna asked.

“Fleets enroute.”

“With any success?”

“A lot, according to the Voku. More so than when they get massed over a target.”

“Allies or not,” Peter added, “they’re already fighting someone other than the lizards. The only real question at this point is do they go for the heart of lizard territory before or after they come at us.”

“How are the Skarrons countering their tech advantage?” Morgan asked.

“Grinding, for the most part. We haven’t had a lot of time to chew on this.”

“Not exactly time sensitive information,” Jenna commented.

“What else?” Morgan asked, suspecting there was more.

Ira smirked. “Something that might be time sensitive. The Voku were able to pull some recon of the worlds this race owns. The images were taken from range, but I think they speak for themselves.”

Ira adjusted the information packet and brought vids of people moving about on the surface in an unfamiliar city. They were little more than specs at the range the recordings were made, but the features were glowing for all to see.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jenna said, not wanting to trust her eyes.

“That’s not much to work off of,” Gary admitted, “but I think it’s obvious enough. These guys are Orange Protovic.”

“Damn,” Morgan swore with a glint of anger crossing her eyes. “That complicates things.”

“They haven’t transformed,” Andre pointed out, “and they’re about to get obliterated anyway.”

“Are there more than just Oranges?”

“Not in the few images we’ve received. Do you want a scouting mission sent?” Ira asked, throwing an ‘it’s urgent’ look Jenna’s way.

“We have to.”

“And what else?” Peter asked.

“It’s too far for us to organize an evacuation, but if they end up getting overwhelmed you know the lizards aren’t going to give them safe harbor.”

“Unless they wanted their technology.”

“Point,” Morgan conceded, “but we need to figure out what’s going on there, preferably before they’re destroyed. If you’re right about them having a larger empire, we need to know how large and how many.”

“To what end? We can’t account for all the Protovic in the galaxy anyway,” Jenna asked.

“This is by far the most advanced group we’ve discovered, and from combat we can’t tell what level their genetics research is at.”

“Oh shit,” Andre said, catching on. “They might activate it themselves without knowing.”

“We have to get there, find out what’s going on, and quietly inoculate any that are going to survive.”

“And bring some back?” Jenna asked.

“No point in leaving them all to die,” the trailblazer quipped.

“I agree,” Gary said regretfully, “but we don’t have the resources to pursue this. Someone else will have to do it.”

“You’re right,” Morgan admitted. “We need the intel, but someone else has to track this down. Let’s review everything the Voku gave us, then I’ll find a volunteer…”

Aaron-010 returned to his quarters after another long day that was a mix of his personal training and him running his ‘X-men school’ finding himself mildly fatigued as was normal, for that was the only real way to push one’s psionic abilities to adapt into greater power reserves. Ikrid especially, for which his own personal training group was built to focus on and hosted by his Clan Nova Wolf on their capitol of Kell. He had the highest Ikrid ranking of all Archons, and as such he was needed to personally duel with others in order to challenge them where mechanized drills would prove insufficient.

That also gave him a lot of extra low level practice, but it left him drained each day…which he was using to train his psionic tissues to accommodate more endurance. He was one of only three trailblazers having assigned themselves to permanent training duty, but he still kept up to date on what the others were doing and how events were going in the Rim Region. When he got finished with his quotas for the day and was ready for bed, he sat down at his terminal intending to spend an hour or so surfing data entries as his brain detoxed from the mild overload.

But when he saw Morgan’s post to the trailblazer private board his fatigue was forgotten. There were more Protovic found, and these weren’t primitives like most of the others had been. They were technologically advanced with at least a small empire of their own that might be allied with the lizards?

The more Aaron read the more he realized that he needed to get to the bottom of this. Most of the others were busy with combat assignments or tasks that pulling them off of wouldn’t be preferred, and while his work here was important it wasn’t urgent and this was. Wait too long and these Protovic might not be around to question if the Skarrons kept hammering them like they were now.

The whole Skarron Crusade that was still in its infancy was a major concern of his and he’d been following developments there closely, but this was the first time he’d heard of someone other than the lizards getting hit. Was this juggernaut really that clumsy, or were they hitting the Protovic for a specific reason?

Morgan laid out the basics, pointing out the futility of an evacuation and the possibility that these guys might end up tampering with their own genetics and unleash the beast within. What she didn’t say was that these Protovic might know of others out there, and through them they might be able to identify and inoculate a great deal more. It was a long way there, and perhaps further still if there were any leads found, but if the Chixzon returned they’d be far more trouble than this temporary inconvenience.

Aaron could find a second gen to go, but they wouldn’t be able to report back in time to make decisions regarding this new Protovic empire. If part of it was to be saved it was going to have to be a judgement call on the spot, and while some second gen were capable of that he just got the creepy feeling that this situation required a trailblazer, hence he replied back to Morgan and posted on the board that he was going to deal with it personally.

He spent the next four hours thinking before finally forcing himself to get some sleep, then in the morning he informed his ‘school’ that they were going on a field trip. Anyone that couldn’t afford a long journey needed to stay behind, but there was no reason why he and the others couldn’t spend their time enroute training with one another. Aaron could train well enough on his own, but as far as Ikrid went you needed other minds to work against/with and these fellow Archons needed his overbearing skill to push their limits against, so most of them agreed to come with him without hesitation.

It took a few weeks to get the necessary fleet assembled…two Warship-class jumpships from Mainline and a Nova Wolf cargo ship that was going to house the training group and the supplies needed for a long mission like this. They weren’t going to stop off at any scouting resupply bases due to the time involved. Instead they were going to run straight through lizard territory in order to get to the Crusade front and these Protovic while they were still alive, hopefully, and Aaron knew the lizards couldn’t interfere unless he decided to stop and engage them.

Run fast, run hard, and unless you hit a mine field the lizards couldn’t catch you…and that’s exactly what his trio of ships did once leaving the ADZ and passing through Ninja Monkey territory, picking up a handful of personnel there for Morgan’s purposes, then diving into the vast gulf of lizard systems that stretched all the way across to the now distant Skarron border that extended coreward farther than Star Force or Voku intelligence had mapped.

Letting his ship Captains handle the navigation, Aaron and the other Archons adjusted their training to their new facilities and got back into the daily grind that they’d hold until they arrived and saw what the Skarron Crusade was about firsthand. Until then there wasn’t anything else to do with no reports coming in now that they were beyond the comm relays. It was just boring travel anticipating a destination.

And rather than keep pestering the Captains with an infinite number of ‘are we there yet’s Aaron had learned long ago to put the solitude of starship travel to good use, for here there were no distractions and more often than not that was when you got your best training sessions in.

4

December 1, 3573

Twan System (Expanded Region)

Heffen

It had been a long extended decade. Battle after battle at an unrelenting pace to kill Mendz Tabers faster than they could build new ones. One city after another taken and plucked of defenders and factories to reinforce them alike, but otherwise left intact. Counterassaults to retake them that never worked while occupied, but that happened often when the Clan Scorpion troops moved on, unable to leave garrison units or overseers behind.

The idea of ‘holding’ cities until the window passed and they became safe was a misnomer. The only way to hold a city on Heffen was to destroy any and all enemy units in the region with any defensive assignments being a waste of resources. There were so many enemy mechs on this world it was insane, but fortunately they weren’t well built and their pilots were crap for the most part.

But they were still deadly in groups and attrition was a factor with the mechwarriors having to press past their shield levels and into armor-grinding territory in order to accomplish the assaults fast and deep enough to keep up with their quotas to destroy the mech-producing factories, their armament stores, and fuel depots. In the beginning the entire invasion seemed pointless, with the Mendz rebuilding almost as fast as they were being destroyed, but over time the deleterious progression of each city’s facilities taken and destroyed tipped the scales in the Scorpions’ favor.

Now it was all but over. Only two cities remained with the last Mendz defenders clustered in both with every weapon left on the planet hoping to hold out two more years. The northern of the two cities was makeshift defenses cobbled together from other retreating units as had been the norm the past year, but the southern city was much more intricate with permanent defensive emplacements that looked to have been built long ago.

It was going to be a tough nut to crack, and for that reason Nero hadn’t hit it previously. Getting to and destroying the multitude of factories had been the priority, but now that they were coming to the end and the Mendz were making their final defiant stand, it was going to be a hunt and destroy mission only here as the northern city was already succumbing to the forces Nero had sent after it.

“How long?” Nathan Hampton asked, walking up beside Nero on a hillside several miles away from the fortress city as the Archon was scoping it out with the zoom on his helmet.

“We’re going to start poking in three hours.”

“Waiting for the rest to finish up?”

“Yeah. I get the feeling these guys have something special planned here.”

“Those mines?”

“More than that. We haven’t detected any nukes, but these guys should have the tech level to shield them properly.”

“They would have used them before now if they had anything like that,” the Regular argued.

“I hope so. This is the last of their military and they’re not surrendering, but I’m worried they’ll take the city inhabitants with them when they die fighting. They know they can’t hold out another 2 years.”

“Would they try chemical or biological?”

“We’re always in armor, and usually in our mechs. I don’t see how they’d think that would work.”

“Scorched earth? Maybe afraid we’d take them prisoner if they’re the last few left.”

“Possible.”

“We’ve almost won and you seem spooked. What’s up?”

“There’s been a lot more construction here, battle prep construction, and I get the feeling that may have given them time to get fancy.”

“So we poke and see what happens. Are you worried about them preemptively killing the citizens?”

“I honestly don’t know at this point. All the rest have submitted as agreed, but with this being the last holdout…”

“Have sensors picked up anything curious?”

“No, but those deflector shields are hampering accuracy with the orbital scans.”

“We’ve almost done it, Nero. If this one gets messy, so be it. We’ll do what we can, as always, but you’ve taken a planet away from the bad guys in probably the cleanest invasion in Star Force history. Even if everyone in that city dies, that won’t change that fact. And you did it through bartering, just like in the old Clan lore.”

“That’s what bothers me. The Mendz don’t seem the type to go out stoically.”

“At this point they only have one play…and that’s to stall for 2 years, which they can’t do.”

“So if you knew you were going to die, wouldn’t you want to cause as much trouble as you could before you did?”

“I’d fight to stay alive…but these guys, yeah, I’d say that’s a good guess.”

“So what can they do here?”

“Those new walls are going to be tough to fight through. They might just try and kill a few mechs as the price for the city.”

“Too small scale, but I agree.”

“Hidden explosives?”

“Mines on approach and even in some wall segments that have redundancies. There could be more, but…”

“These guys don’t have the tech to hide them and we’re going to be scanning as we walk up and knock on the door. I don’t see that we’re missing a beat.”

“I don’t either. That’s what worries me.”

“You could be overestimating the opponent.”

“After 13 years of nonstop battle, I’ll gladly err there.”

“Only one way to find out,” the mechwarrior said, looking out across the few miles of slightly rolling terrain to the giant concrete walls that had been built up as a maze surrounding the city that they’d have to fight or blow through to get inside.

“Yep. But until then I’m going to keep brainstorming…just in case.”

“I’ll pass the word to be on the lookout for subterfuge. Do you need to catch a nap? I can stand watch.”

“I’m good for one more. Then we can all get a badly needed rest.”

Nero ran through one of the city streets in his Neo-class mech, feeling heavy and slow but otherwise as limber and bouncy as he was in real life. He was mentally connected to the metallic monstrosity but fortunately didn’t feel any of the burns in the armor resulting from booby-trapped buildings the Mendz had rigged up and drawn the Scorpion troops into. Some blew out laterally, with most of the explosion focused on the mechs, but others destroyed entire structures and pinned down the mechs beneath the rubble.

It was a tactic that they hadn’t used before, and with only 83 of the battle machines left fully operational, even taking down one hurt Nero’s forces badly…but it was too late for the Mendz. Why they hadn’t tried this tactic sooner he didn’t know, but having the civilians move the explosives into position after the battle began had defied the pre-attack sensor sweeps. Even now he couldn’t be sure what was going to blow up, but his mech and others were scanning furiously even as they chased down the last few Tabers within the city.

Nero got a warning only a couple hundred meters away and skidded to a halt with his metallic feet digging into the ‘soft’ pavement and plowing two furrows in it. Both buildings ahead flanking the street had explosives in them, meaning he wasn’t going to be going through this way, so he backtracked another hundred meters and turned to the right, heading to the next street.

But when he got there and turned he only got a few sections further before more bombs showed up, but this time when he backtracked there were others popping up on his sensors behind him.

“No…” he said, realizing he’d walked into a trap. The civilians must have had the explosives in shielded canisters that only showed up on sensors when they unpacked them. He clicked on the comm.

“Keep the infantry clear. We’ve got mobile explosives being set in place. We’ll deal with them in the mechs. I don’t want anyone without a wall of armor between them and these det packs in play, but get me spotters everywhere.”

The ring of dots surrounding him grew complete, blocking off every street, but fortunately he had another option.

Nero walked to the nearest building, pumped up his anti-grav as high as sustainability would allow, and punched a hole into it with his hand. He did the same with the other higher up, then he jumped and got his feet into the two holes as he punched again, then he began 3-hold climbing his way up to the top making handholds as he went.

When he got there a piece of the roof broke off and fell to the ground below with his mech’s foot slipping. He went down on his chest but caught himself from sliding off, then stood up and reset his anti-grav, returning his mech to normal weight and charging the capacitor high enough to allow him to jump…which he did, over to the next building.

When he hit his feet broke through to the next floor, pinning him in place. It took half a minute to climb his way out, and by then the Tabers he’d been trying to flank were long gone. That didn’t matter now, for he just needed to get away from the explosives, but he saw on his battlemap that two more had been taken down in his absence.

That still left at least 200 in the center of the city tucked underneath a lot of anti-air batteries that were now repositioning to shoot at him. Missiles streak across from those with lines of fire and Nero popped up his shoulder mounts and began shooting the bulk of them down with Ichod pulse cannons, vaporizing everything within a cone of fire and missing those that came from other angles simultaneously as what seemed like the entire Mendz anti-air arsenal was coming at him.

Nero knew he’d get chewed up if he stayed up here, so he weathered the storm as long as he could, hopping to two more buildings before his shields finally fell before dropping back down to the ground. Sensors showed explosives along several streets, but he had a few that appeared to be clear so he took off down those hoping to get out ahead of the ambushers and wondering if they were carrying them through the streets.

Nero worked his way through the city until he hit a line of defense that had big barricades up to block the street, but he just walked right in front of it and started blasting with his mauler cannons. When he did, batteries in the side buildings opened fire on him and he turned and obliterated them as they chewed away a little more of his armor, popping his renewed shields when they came back up halfway through, in the middle of which another explosive appeared on his sensors right next to him.

Nero knelt down and pivoted, ignoring the batteries and fired into the bottom of the building over and over again until the contact went out. He didn’t know what these explosives were made of, but apparently they required a trigger. He’d expected some detonation, hoping redirect some of it along with the debris he was blowing into the building, but he’d gladly accept nothing. In fact, it meant that unless this one was a dud, they could take them out before they detonated.

“Explosives can be neutralized by mauler cannons. Shoot into the buildings before they blow,” he said, standing his mech back up and finishing destroying the weapons batteries around him, after which he took the time to knock down the barricade rather than climbing or jumping over it just in case he needed to come back this way later.

Another few minutes of individual pushing had him meeting up with another two neos that were escorting a Catapult-class support mech that was a mix of auxiliary shields and missiles. It could block the explosives if it knew to put up the extra strong energy barriers first, but it wasn’t the most agile within the city streets.

Nero took the lead but stayed close enough that it could throw up a shield ahead of him, and it did when the pilot saw that his shields were paper thin. It stretched out ahead, not to the sides, and that shield took the first weaponsfire from the Tabers that targeted them when they entered a courtyard that took the place of several buildings…though the rubble of those buildings was still here and arranged to give them cover while interfering with the attackers’ approach.

Multiple hits came from Tabers who were focusing on the entry point, but when Nero got to it he and the other three neos ran out of cover of the catapult’s shields and jumped over the debris, landing near some of the enemy mechs and pounding them…literally. Punches were as prevalent as mauler blasts as they drew the attention away from the awkward walking mech that followed them through and stopped just clear of the surrounding buildings.

Missile hatches opened and a torrent of smoky streaks shot out, some passing within 10 meters of the neos, and hammered the Tabers relentlessly. Rivers of destruction flowed from the catapult…then all was silence.

Nero checked his battlemap and saw that all the Tabers were down here, with a few locations left in the city that were near to falling as well.

“More explosives,” the catapult pilot noted as dots were continuing to appear nearby.

“Target them,” Nero ordered. “Blow right through the buildings. Anyone near them is going to die anyway when they detonate.”

“I could use some elevation if you can knock out those anti-air turrets.”

“Good idea. Guys, let’s go raid the nests,” Nero agreed as he and the other two neos started climbing again.

Three hours later Nero was walking his lightly damaged mech through pacified streets looking for additional contacts. All had been quiet for the past 23 minutes, but part of him didn’t want to accept that it was all over. There were still a lot of civilians here, but they weren’t attacking them anymore and he’d ordered the infantry in to do building searches and find any caches of explosives that might be remaining.

All of the Mendz military was now dead, assuming they hadn’t chickened out and ran. None had that he knew of since this invasion had begun, and as they’d boasted, they’d rather die fighting than surrender. Fortunately the civilians hadn’t followed suit, and if this really was the end of the fighting then the planet now belonged to Clan Scorpion.

A planet without the Star Force workers needed to restructure it. He had nothing here other than his attack force, so he was going to have to rule it rather than own it. That was a new trick, but as long as the civilians kept following orders as they’d been doing in the previously captured cities things would be alright. Some of those cities were already being altered towards Star Force standards, in small ways. Fortunately the Mendz didn’t eat meat, so there wasn’t large numbers of rescued ‘livestock’ races to evacuate or care for here, though he had put an immediate end to the sport hunts in the wild areas of the planet.

He couldn’t monitor that very well, but the bottom line was the food supply was stable and growing…along with other necessary staples of infrastructure needed to strengthen this planet, with which what Clan Scorpion was going to do hadn’t been decided. They’d eliminated a threat to the region, but whether or not there would be a permanent Clan presence here was going to be a decision made back in the ADZ. Nero was to babysit here while a courier ship went back, then he’d hear from Cora as to what she wanted done.

But the mission was a success already, and as predicted the Mendz’s naval forces had attacked all out once it was clear that they’d lost the war on the ground. Their ships were now rubble floating in space and Nero had complete military control of both the planet and the system, but he had some decisions to make regarding how he was going to babysit…though right now he still wasn’t sure something wasn’t going to explode next to him. Maybe that was being cautious or just a reflex, but as he continued his patrols along with the rest of his mechs spread out across the city and the Commando and Knight teams continued clearing buildings it began to finally sink in.

The fighting was over. It’d been 13 hectic years, now all of a sudden it was done. There was no one left to shoot or to shoot back at him…and it felt weird.

When he eventually got out of his mech back at base it felt even weirder. He was on a hostile planet without any more hostiles. Nero didn’t expect the civilians were going to be all warm and friendly, but it looked like any of them capable of attacking the invaders had already done so and died. Leaving what behind he wasn’t totally sure, but for right now the entire planet was quiet and the few overseers he had spread out were continuing to monitor that orders were being carried out as word spread of the final defeat.

Nero didn’t send that message out, but left the Mendz to do that on their own and come to the realization that they’d lost. Their mighty warriors had been defeated by a small army of Clan Scorpion…and that filled him with a pride he couldn’t articulate, but he carried it with him into bed that night as he took the liberty of setting his alarm two hours later than normal.

5

December 3, 3573

Twan System (Expanded Region)

Heffen

Nero was asleep in a small bunk room in the main Clan base when the door opened and he half noticed, rolling over slightly as someone walked up next to him.

“Wake up,” Taren-152991 said, poking him in the shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Nero asked, sitting up.

“They’re rioting.”

The Archon rubbed his eyes. He’d been in a far deeper sleep than he’d managed in years.

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” Taren said, and Nero could hear the panic in his voice.

“Define rioting,” he said as he stood up and grabbed his shoes, slipping them on with a little telekinetic nudge.

“Every city on the planet, and they’re destroying whatever they can get their hands on. Our overseers are under attack too and we’ve got dropships enroute to pull them out.”

“Did we miss some troops?” Nero asked, following him out and through the residential section of the base towards their command cneter.

“No. It’s like the civilians have gone feral. The recall was ordered because there’s so many of them.”

“Are they coming here?”

“Not yet. They’re just destroying everything. Maybe to keep us from using it, but I don’t know. It’s like they’ve all gone crazy with word that they lost.”

“I knew it was too easy a win,” Nero all but cursed as he accelerated into a run and followed Taren without any more conversation until they got to the command center where a handful of other personnel were monitoring and trying to break down exactly what was going on.

“Talk to me,” he said, walking towards the main holo at the center of the room.

“This is organized,” an analyst noted. “Simultaneous implementation across the planet as of 31 minutes ago with a variation of no more than 2.”

“Backup plan?” Taren asked.

“Scorched earth policy,” Nero growled. “They don’t want us getting our hands on their intact cities and resources.”

“It’s not that,” a Regular said from the other side of the room. “This is anarchy. They’re destroying everything. Even the food supply.”

Nero and everyone else in the room fell silent as the Archon looked at him.

“Say again.”

“Food production facilities are being hit in at least 3 cities that we still have eyes on. Food store warehouses too in addition to virtually everything else in the cities. Even some of the smaller buildings are being torn down with crude explosives, and the larger ones was being torched from the inside.”

“Are they really that stupid?” another Archon asked.

“They’re crazed right now,” Taren added. “So they might be. How do we stop that?”

Nero looked at the hologram of the planet with icons indicating riots popping up virtually everywhere based on orbital scans and the few people they still had out in the field.

“Get our people out, now. Bring everyone back here that isn’t sitting inside a mech. Are there any cities not showing activity?”

“No. All are burning,” an analyst confirmed.

“Are there any signs of rebellion, or is the entire population united in this?”

“We don’t have enough assets to say planetwide, but the locations we can monitor show no fighting amongst the Mendz, nor any unit cohesion. People are just running around and destroying whatever they can.”

Nero put his hands on his head, missing the blissful victory sleep he’d just been woken from as he saw the planet they’d conquered literally destroying itself in protest.

“All mech units on location are to proceed to the nearest foodstuff production facilities…not the warehouses…and shoot anyone seen messing with them. We’ve got to preserve as much as we can.”

“If they’re already inside that won’t matter,” Taren pointed out.

“Pull from orbital scans and find me even one facility that hasn’t been hit yet, one calm area that we can reinforce, something we can save,” he said angrily. “If not we have to try and save some scraps that can be rebuilt.”

“We need their construction equipment too.”

“Prioritize what you can,” he said, snapping his fingers in a way that got all the analysts and half the other personnel to turn to their stations and get to work. Taren altered the main hologram to give them closer views of what was happening in several locations, with the cat-like bipeds running around in the streets carrying makeshift weapons, canisters, or mostly nothing at all as they scrambled around setting new fires, breaking windows, and trashing vehicles in whatever way they could.

“Give me something,” Nero reiterated after a few minutes of watching the carnage.

“Pullout in the southern hemisphere is complete,” someone noted, with Nero seeing the dropship tracks returning from those locations with all personnel onboard save for mech units. A few other dropships still hadn’t recovered people in the northern hemisphere, but so far there were no Star Force casualties…despite the fact that most locations had only one or two individuals per city stationed to oversee it.

“There goes a field.”

Nero looked over and saw a secondary hologram displaying a fire in progress in one of the many crop fields the Mendz had across the planet…fields that the Scorpions had deliberately avoided hitting so not to destroy the food supply. Now both the factories to process the food and the fields where they mass produced it were going up in smoke.

“Deploy every skeet we have to the most intact fields left with orders to shoot the torchers before they can get to them. Anyone that even gets close gets killed. If they don’t even have raw grain to process by hand…”

“I think it’s too late,” Taren mumbled from beside him.

“We lose nothing by trying,” Nero countered. “Prioritize something close and drop a few mechs at each one we can preserve. Have them hunt and destroy around a perimeter. Use the damaged ones too. Anything and everything we’ve got left. We have to preserve a piece of the food supply, else we’ll have nothing left to ration.”

“On it,” Taren said, running out to get to a mech himself along with the rest of the Archons and mechwarriors in the command center, leaving Nero there with the analysts as they continued to pull data from multiple sources and collate it for him to see.

In the minutes that passed things only got worse. He watched as more fields were set on fire. Fruit trees were chopped down. Roads were damaged by people running out with shovels and axes like morons just wanting to damage stuff so it couldn’t be used. It didn’t happen quickly, for the cities were huge, as were the fields, but Nero had so few people to counter it that he was literally helpless to stop the destruction that was happening everywhere across the planet.

After four hours two large fields, each more than 100 square miles large, were secured due to the fact that there was only one city near each and a single approach that was being blasted to hell by the skeets, yet more Mendz kept trying to run that gauntlet in order to get to the fields. Nero eventually sent a few of his limited infantry there to deal with anyone that managed to sneak through and put out any potential fires before they got too large, but 2 fields wasn’t going to feed a planet.

He worked the resources he had and secured parts of 9 more, having the mechs dig trenches with their feet in some cases to stop current fires from spreading. Nero knew time wasn’t on their side, so he chose where he was going to defend against this madness and dug in all the while the rest of the planet burned.

8 days later…

Nero walked off a dropship that had set him down on the killing grounds between a city and a preserved field, immediately smelling the stench of dead bodies. His infantry were out of sight, mostly, as they were inside the city now searching it for any sane Mendz left…for all the rest had finally ended themselves in suicide runs trying to get to the fields. That left a wrecked, empty, and in some parts still burning city before him with a pristine countryside of crops behind. If there was any silver lining to this, it was the fact that there were less Mendz around to feed now, but he knew it wasn’t going to matter.

No one was coming from the other cities to try and attack here, but there was also no one left to harvest and care for the fields. He was hoping there would be some Mendz found that hadn’t taken part in the rioting, but so far his searchers were coming up empty.

Could all of them have been in on this? Was there not even one individual hiding out somewhere in the city just trying to stay alive?

As his people continued to search here others were fighting to keep the Mendz out of partial fields saved that had numerous cities around them. He could have been there fighting, but he had a bigger challenge before him…how to pull the planet out of this mess. To that end he began walking through the dead, many of which were now pieces of bodies after being shot by aerial or mech weaponry.

He took his time, thinking hard and soaking in everything around him and trying to make sense of it. The military was dead. They were the ones that wanted to die fighting, so why would the civilians do this? They’d put up with Scorpion rule…limited as it was…for years now. Why do this now when it made no sense?

They couldn’t have done it before, else it would have broken the agreement the Mendz were counting on to secure their planet when they won the fight. As soon as that was no longer possible…

Nero worked his way into the city, in which he didn’t see a single window intact. The roads had holes in them where there wasn’t building rubble blocking the way. Black burn marks were everywhere on the structures that still stood, having been gutted by the flames that had mostly subsided by now, though Nero could still see a few here and there. The smell within the city was of ash, which was an improvement over that of the dead outside, but it was still a visceral sign of defeat.

He hadn’t seen this coming, for it was completely illogical. Dying fighting in battle was one thing, but destroying the very infrastructure you needed to survive made no sense no matter how he looked at it, and Nero realized that was why he hadn’t seen it coming. It was so stupid, so completely moronic, that it had escaped his mind. He’d spent 13 years preserving these people while killing off their military, keeping their cities intact and them out of the fighting except where they chose to insert themselves. Hating him and Star Force was expected, for he didn’t expect them to welcome Scorpion rule, but this…

Nero still couldn’t believe it as he reached out with his psionics looking for survivors. If there was just one here that would be something. Someone to save and to prove the point that there might be others out there that he could collect, rally, and start rebuilding with while the rest killed themselves off however they damn well wished.

But no, for as he walked what was left of the streets and climbed over and through destroyed buildings he found no minds other than those of his own troops, and neither did they. The entire city was dead. And those who had destroyed it now lay in bits and pieces outside.

The Archon inspected what was left of the various factories, finding some small pieces that could be salvaged but not enough to get anything working. If other components were found elsewhere maybe he could transport them all to a secure site and patch together a working facility, but that was the best he could hope for. And if he didn’t have anyone to work those factories then it was a moot point anyway.

Nero roamed for a long time, so long that eventually a madcat walked up behind him, its giant metallic feet making small tremors with each step as it moved across the debris far easier than he did. Turning around, he looked up at it as it stopped a few dozen meters away and a private comm channel opened up inside Nero’s helmet from Taren.

“It’s over,” he said simply.

“Are the other sites secure?”

“Burn attempts have diminished, but there are still stragglers coming out to get themselves killed…and that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“I mean it’s over. These people just killed themselves. We can’t rebuild without techs and a workforce.”

“We can’t assume everyone on this planet is in the same boat. There could be pockets of resistance out there that are just hunkered down trying to wait this out.”

“A possibility that we can’t stick around to find out.”

“Why? Got somewhere to be?” Nero said with more venom than he intended. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“You’re taking this harder than me, but I feel it too. These bastards made their own bed, and we can’t save them from it. It’s time to leave.”

“And just let them…”

“If we can’t stop it, there’s no need to stick around and watch. Even if we called for and got a relief fleet here, there’s not enough time. These people are dead, Nero. When they torched their storehouses they doomed themselves to be dead within a month, two tops, and there’s no one here left to save anyway. I wish there were a dozen or so we could rescue from this, but there’s not. And I doubt there will be elsewhere. Meanwhile, as we search, they starve or kill themselves in whatever way they want. They meant to deny us, not survive.”

Nero balled up a fist and punched his armored thigh hard.

“This isn’t over yet. We’re not just packing up and leaving…but you are right.”

“What did I miss that we still have to do here?”

“We’re not just bailing. We’re going to tidy up first.”

The madcat’s right arm dropped until the barrel touched the ground.

“Let’s get to it then,” Taren prompted, with Nero running over to it and climbing on so the Archon could ride back with him to the LZ.

Over the next three weeks Nero had the Scorpions out searching the remains of every warehouse and collecting what bits of food and other essential supplies remained, then when they were ready to leave that individual city they piled up a fair amount of it in one central location for any survivors left to use or burn…whichever they chose.

They spread out the supplies between the cities, saying goodbye to each one that they’d painstakingly conquered previously until all that remained were those surrounding the intact fields they still guarded. In those they added what equipment was still workable, stacking it on cleaned up streets in the chance that someone out there might have a wish to survive and take to harvesting the fields on their own or using the equipment for other purposes.

The surplus of foodstuffs they left there as well, thinking that if someone was going to harvest the fields they’d need more strength to do it, plus the fields might draw others to these locations and increase the local population…which wasn’t much at this point, with quite a few starving Mendz visible scurrying around the city at a much slower pace than before, doing what Nero didn’t know, but he was going to give them a lifeline before he left.

If they chose not to take it and just trash the supply dumps, well, he wouldn’t be here to know either way.

Once those fields and the nearby supply caches were laid out and a final transmission was sent telling anyone who could receive it where the supplies were, the forces guarding the fields were picked up by aerial transports and taken back to the main base where they were disassembling it piece by piece, intent on leaving no Star Force technology behind.

The mechs went back to their ships in orbit along with all the structural pieces, leaving only a few patrolling skeets over the shallow crater in the ground where the base footprint had laid. Nero made one concession, staying behind a few minutes and placing a portable holographic generator the side of a footlocker in the center of that crater where he recorded himself giving a long explanation of events that happened here and detailing how the Mendz chose to destroy their own planet rather than accept foreign rule.

Nero made no excuses for them, but wanted an accurate account of what had happened should someone come to this planet later and find it lifeless and in ruins. He didn’t need to explain himself or Star Force’s actions, but what happened here was an abomination that he felt like turning his back on responsibly, so when he was done recording the message he played it back, ensuring it was sufficient, then set the proximity sensor to display it whenever someone or something came near, thus preserving its power cells for a very long time.

As Nero walked away it triggered, creating a duplicate Archon behind him as he slowly headed for the last waiting transport that would take him back up to orbit and from there his small fleet would return to the ADZ…in victory or defeat was the question. They’d accomplished their mission in stopping the Mendz from attacking nearby systems, and in subsequent years the Mendz holdings there had been retaken without resupply from their homeworld, but at this cost it didn’t feel like a victory, even given the fact that they’d done this to themselves.

Either way, Taren was right. There was nothing more for Clan Scorpion or him to do here.

6

October 20, 3574

Unknown System (Crusade front)

Inner Zone

Aaron’s three ships came out of their jump into one of the systems known to be controlled by the Protovic, braking hard to avoid low stellar orbit and immediately glad they did as Aaron saw from the bridge of the cargo ship the immense Skarron fleet choking off the bottom end of the jumplane.

“Well shit,” another Archon mumbled beside him as some dozen of them from his training group had come up to observe their destination and find out what these new Protovic were like, but no one had expected this system to be under attack. “They moved fast.”

“That fleet is insane,” the Captain of the jumpship mentioned.

“I’d guess they’re not getting much resistance,” Aaron agreed, “and that’s why they’re here sooner than anticipated.”

“Or have more fleets available,” a titan chimed in.

“That too. What are we getting on the two planets?”

“Vislight indicates Skarron fleets over both.”

“Is there anyone left?”

“We need a closer look,” the analyst said, having next to no information to work with so far away other than what amounted to telescope imagery.

“What do think they’ll do when they find us here?” the Captain asked.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Our ship hulls are almost identical to what they fought in the past, so I’d be surprised if they didn’t identify us. Given how many ships they have here…”

“At least 2 million,” the sensor officer chimed in.

“…I think they’ll be extremely territorial in mindset and try to chase us down. They won’t be able to catch us, right…” he said, looking at the Captain.

“Not unless you want us to loiter, no. Our engine capacity far exceeds theirs.”

“We’re not going to, but we are going to see what the status of those two planets are. Bring us in close but keep us moving at all times.”

“In concert?”

“One warship with us, the other to the other planet.”

“Shall I give the order?”

“Unless we start shooting, I’m playing spectator,” Aaron said, referencing the seldom-used command nexus build into the side of the bridge. Most Star Force jumpships had them as standard design, but on a cargo ship without Archons they almost never found use.

“Do you have a preference?” the Captain asked as he began pressing buttons on his command chair.

“The green one.”

“Helm, new coordinates,” the Captain said, shooting him an approach vector that the pilot would tweak to his own satisfaction before implementing. “Let’s get moving.”

When they got closer to the planet the carnage became obvious. Debris in orbit was rampant, but the mass of Skarron ships there created a broken ring around the planet, a piece of which detached and began to pursue the Star Force ships futilely. But while the battle in orbit was over, the ground campaign was not yet complete. There were a mind boggling amount of walkers deployed and visibly running over cities no matter how much defense the Protovic put up, though there were a fair number of white dots covering the surrounding area to attest to the fact that this was not completely a one-sided fight.

But the outcome was not in question. There were so many Skarron units in play that no matter how many the Protovic destroyed there would be more stepping in to take their place and pour firepower into any defenses they had en mass. The only advantage the Protovic seemed to have was the fact that the Skarron walkers were slow and they were able to hit and run somewhat, though the Skarron air power was pummeling them relentlessly.

Better than 80% of the planet near Aaron was theirs, while the other one was worse off with only a handful of areas not yet succumbed, though in a few days they would be. The Skarrons were exterminating them with no visible prisoners being taken, though a detailed inspection of the images taken from the surface showed two instances of Aronsic camps that were feasting on glowing orange/green flesh.

As much as he hated the lizards he’d been kind of hoping the Skarrons would kick their ass, but now seeing this and having old memories of the Skarron war returning fresh to his mind, he couldn’t stomach either of the dishonorable empires. He hated not being able to fight either one because of the stupid V’kit’no’sat, for they both needed conquered or destroyed in a bad way, and as long as they remained people like these Protovic were going to suffer for it.

Though to be honest, he didn’t know if these Protovic were good guys, neutrals, or just as bad as the Skarrons…but there was only one way to find out.

“Dexter.”

“Yeah,” the Archon answered, looking up from a station on the bridge where he’d been having a private discussion with an analyst.

“I need you in the big chair.”

The ViLord raised an eyebrow. “What are we up to?”

“Forced extraction,” Aaron said icily.

“Our dropships won’t get through their air cover.”

“Not on their own, no. We’re going to box with the drones.”

Dexter smiled. “If their navy goes atmospheric, we won’t have much time to work with.”

“We’re going to wait until a region is almost obliterated, then swoop in and pick up whoever is left. In and out one shot, leaving no one behind.”

“That’s going to be hard to time.”

“I know, but I’m not going to go down and capture part of the defenders only to weaken the last stand of others.”

“Good call there.”

“Captain, we’re going to need both warships, so get us looping together in a way that doesn’t suggest we’re going to ground. We’ll need as much head start as we can get.”

“I assume you’re going down yourself?”

“I’m the biggest gun we’ve got, so yes.”

“And while the drones are waiting for you to do your collection?” Dexter asked.

“You torch every Skarron unit within range.”

“Turkey shoot,” he said with pleasure.

“Mind the missiles. It appears they’ve upgraded a bit.”

“So have we.”

“I know, but don’t get sloppy. We’re going to get hit going down and up.”

“Then you’d better let me use all of them and keep the jumpships running.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Making it so,” Dexter said, walking across the bridge towards the nexus to start prepping.

“Captain. Make preparations for unwilling guests.”

“How many?”

“As many as we can fit on the dropships.”

“A single load?”

Aaron nodded. “We won’t have time to cycle, and if we made time we wouldn’t have the supplies or room to house them all. I’m going to wait until there are just enough left,” he said grimly. “I hate that, but getting anyone out of here alive is going to be a victory.”

3 days later…

16 cubes fell down through the atmosphere so fast they appeared to be meteors all the while being tracked and intercepted by missiles fired from the Skarron walkers, though most of the ominous streaks headed towards them never made it, for there was a halo of other drones coming down around them in skirmisher formation and hitting the missiles with what anti-air could break through the turbulent fireballs. When they all slowed enough to become visible, the missile carnage increased as even the boxes fired back and knocked chunks of the rivers of ordinance down before they struck shields that barely flickered with energy loss.

Star Force technology had progressed so far since their war against the Skarrons that there was no contest now…but sadly there was no way to save this planet or the other with the fleet and army arrayed to destroy it. Superior tech was one thing but so was numbers, and even inferior weapons did damage. Take enough hits and they’d get through the drones’ shields, which was why the anti-air fire was so intense. Offensive defense in its purest form, and it was more than enough to get the drones down to the surface.

But the missile attacks didn’t end there, nor did the curve of the planet stop incoming fire. More and more missiles flew across the horizon towards them but Dexter, safely tucked away onboard a jumpship, organized his chess board with the loose drones forming a circular perimeter around the falling city they’d chosen to rescue as the boxed up formations floated in low over the center and blasted away at the Skarron walkers and any large groups of infantry that were visible on the city streets.

After several minutes of cleansing, the bottom edge of those boxes detached with that drone sliding up and gaining some more altitude to help shoot missiles or anything else while the others held a rigid position and the dropships safely protected within began to spill out and down into the city on flights of less than a mile.

One Dragon-class dropship landed over the rubble of a crushed building and opened its big bay doors to release a pair of mechs…the only two Aaron had brought with them. The neos ran out and into the city hunting for Skarron elites in their battle armor or anything else they could squash while the trailblazer followed them out on foot along with several other Archons that had been accompanying him in his training group…which he was now very glad to have alongside him.

They broke up, heading different ways and hunting down whatever Skarron or Aronsic minds that they came across nearby the dropships while Aaron and others headed straight for the failing Protovic defenses. The last few bits of them were confined into two main areas and a handful of other holdouts that were about to get run over. Aaron headed on foot to one of the latter, bypassing everything else hostile in between himself and them in order to get there in time, though he did shoot a few Aronsic on the way exacting a tiny bit of revenge for the planet’s inhabitants, but given so much carnage around him it didn’t matter. Dead Protovic, Aronsic, and Skarrons were everywhere, with a lot of their bodies smashed by the feet of walkers or the Skarrons themselves as they ran over the dead or dying as they pushed further and further into the city.

With a crash a Skarron fighter…or more like half of it…fell to Aaron’s left and imbedded itself into the bottom half of a building, adding to the rubble and throwing out a shower of tiny rock chips that bounced off the Archon’s shields as he continued to run with more fighters going down as they tried to get to the city interior to target the dropships. That was a suicide run with all the drones overhead, but they were making it anyway hoping to get a few through…for they had many to replace whatever they lost and it didn’t look like the Skarrons were worried about reducing casualties so long as they achieved their objective.

A thought about them not coming with enough supplies anticipating major losses crossed his mind, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as he came up on the Protovic defense lines and saw several hobbits get vaporized by a pulse cannon that pulverized some building debris behind them at the same time. Bits and pieces of flesh flew everywhere, but more Aronsic poured in from a street on the far right in columns to charge the gun until Aaron waved a hand and knocked them all down with a Jumat blast.

The pulse cannon didn’t hesitate, blasting away at them on the ground as Aaron came into view and Jedi jumped over their firing arc to land on the other side in a nook where the gunner couldn’t see…out of which flew four more Aronsic, but before the Protovic could shoot them a series of blue plasma bolts from Aaron took them down and added to the defensive effort. When the trailblazer ran out into the sights of the gunners they didn’t fire on him, suddenly knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a friend and allowing him to run up to them and hop over the broken wall they were positioned within, coming down in the midst of the 8 glowing faces.

He didn’t speak, but thoughts flowed into their minds sufficient enough that when he pointed to the sky they knew he was here to evacuate them. Who he was they didn’t know, hidden beneath that unusual armor, but given that these men were about to die along with the rest of their mostly dead planet, and they knew it, they didn’t ask questions and followed Aaron out, leaving their pulse cannon mount behind and rushed the approaching Aronsic wave…that suddenly all tripped and fell over one another.

The next moment their bodies were flying back through the air like rag dolls and piling up further down the street, with them not having a moment to rest as Aaron was throwing one Jumat blast after another to clear the street up until a Skarron came into view and was too massive to dislodge in a similar way. When it tipped its topside arms over and pointed its infantry cannons on the tips at the Protovic it became a statue, freezing in place as Aaron put several shots from his rifle into its ugly face as he led the Protovic by and back towards the dropship.

The trailblazer continued providing psionic and traditional weaponsfire cover along the way, though one of the neos came crashing into view from the right just as a group of Skarron elites came charging forward on the left hunting the Protovic survivors and intending on running them down with their heavy, shiny armor protecting them from most small arms fire. Aaron immediately circled around to get between them and the Protovic, throwing up a wide bioshield to cover all of them while sending the telepathic impulse of ‘get behind me’ to them while also messing the with minds of the first few elites…though he needn’t have bothered.

The neo ran out and right by Aaron’s group, punting the first Skarron with a kick from its metallic foot across the street and into the side of a building, then it dropped to a knee and punched another one flat into the pavement as the rest scampered away from the far too agile mech while returning some fire. A few got away, but those stupid enough to stay put and shoot were physically smashed so to avoid firing maulers close to the Protovic, though Aaron could have shielded them enough if needed from anything less than a direct hit.

The caution was welcome, as was the assist, and with another dose of telepathic prodding Aaron got the 8 Protovic moving again. When the dropship came within range he pointed and all but shouted at them to go, breaking off from them while a couple of other Archons guarding the craft took over and escorted the war weary fighters inside using their lesser telepathic skills.

Minutes passed and more arrived in small groups, but over an hour later several hundred showed up along with Aaron, who gave the go ahead for the pilot to take off once the pair of mechs walked back onboard.

The Protovic, who’d been politely disarmed, stood against the sides of the bay as the two giant machines strode in and parked themselves in statue position and cracked open the access ports on the back with more usually armored aliens climbing out and down to the floor of the bay as the outer doors closed, but not before the skyline shifted and the Protovic could see their damaged city drifting below them.

One of the mech pilots walked over to Aaron as the Protovic were starting to ask questions that he couldn’t easily answer, for their language was new and undocumented. It would take time to learn it, though a few Archons had been sent on tech retrieval missions on their way back to the dropships to see if they could find something to grab that would help in the process.

Right now though all he had was telepathy to work with, and that was a powerful tool at his disposal. If worst came to worst he could knock them all unconscious with a thought or take control of their bodies, but right now he wanted them to know they were among friends and while getting inside their heads to do that was certainly effective, there was another way that he’d thought of before leaving the ADZ, though he hadn’t expected it to come into play during combat.

The mech pilot walked up beside Aaron and the trailblazer triggered his armor to split apart. When it did and his Human visage became visible all the Protovic recoiled, either physically or mentally, and he knew they’d never seen his like before. Aaron continued to send reassuring emotions to them then pointed to the mechwarrior beside him.

After a short delay that set of armor split apart as well, with all of the Protovics’ jaws dropping. As battle scarred and manic as these survivors were being suddenly rescued when they were doomed to die fighting an unwinnable battle was enough to put them on edge, but the sight of another Protovic face amongst these aliens was almost too much to bear and a few of them stumbled as they lost their balance with sheer relief and shock.

The orange and green glowing faces, some bleeding, most covered in grime or dust that diminished their bioluminescence, just stared at the new Protovic’s face, uniform and overall alien persona. He was one of them, but he glowed pink and blue…something that none of these Protovic had ever thought possible, and in that moment Aaron knew that these, at least, did not know of other variants. Though if they had, they still wouldn’t have recognized a Star Force Protovic, for the base green had been replaced with blue and that offset the pink creating a color combination that was theoretically nowhere else in the galaxy aside from Star Force.

The mechwarrior walked up to one of the shaky ones and put a hand on his shoulder, knowing he couldn’t understand his words, but using his own limited telepathy to help translate as much as he could.

“You’re safe now, brothers. Safe,” he repeated as two others walked closer, with one of them reaching out a glowing finger and poking him in the side of the head to see if he was real.

“You are not dreaming. You are here. I am here. And both of us have many questions to ask.”

7

October 29, 3574

Unknown System (Crusade front)

Outer Zone

Sitting far out into the system with no planets nearby to navigationally grapple with, Aaron’s three ships waited out of the reach of the Skarrons while recording from afar the final destruction of the Protovic civilization in this system while the trailblazer met with the escapees one at a time. With him was a neural interlink similar to a control nexus, worn around his head, that allowed him to mentally link with the ship’s computer and, more importantly, the language analysis program there that he’d help design long ago.

Using his Sav-enhanced Ikrid, he was able to analyze the thoughts of each Protovic as he talked with them. Neither could understand the other’s language, but with each word spoken by the Protovic he analyzed what it meant inside the mind and cataloged it using the analysis program…or rather cataloged all the possible meanings, and fortunately with Aaron’s Ikrid skill, his Sav, and his familiarity with the program, he was making thousands of notations per second as he gradually established the basis of these Protovics’ language via process of elimination.

Once the basic structure and vocabulary was established he no longer needed them to speak, and he went about ransacking their minds for more words and meanings, funneling them all through his own mind and into the program faster than any Archon or even the language specialist techs could have…for he’d taught many of them these very skills when they’d been gifted the Ikrid necessary to begin unlocking unknown languages, making him the best in-person translator Star Force had.

Within only a handful of days he had a basic language program for ‘Veersnobva,’ which was what they called their language. Rather than trying to speak it himself, he used an automated translation matrix in which an auditory dampener was set up via energy field between the two of them on the table, diminishing but not eliminating the sounds passing through as they were analyzed and overlayed with the computer translation.

“Can you understand me?” Aaron asked, and he didn’t need his Ikrid to see the shock in the Protovic’s eyes when he did.

“Yes.”

“Good. Over the past few days we’ve built a translation program. It will get better with time, so be aware that there may be some errors involved at present.”

“How have you done this?” the glowing orange/green face asked Aaron, as they were the only two people in the interrogation room.

“I can read your mind, Dashmir,” he said, using the man’s name, “and I have taken what I learned and input it into a computer program. I still am now, using this device.”

Aaron pointed to the ring on his head, but the Protovic merely shook his in dismay.

“What is going on?”

“The galaxy is far bigger than you know,” Aaron indulged, sensing his confusion and brittle nerves. Even with a few days to rest the destruction of his world and the bloody fight he’d made to defend it were nearly crippling his will to live. “Not many races have telepathy, but a handful do. Including some Protovic. You’ve not seen others of different colors, have you?”

“No.”

“There are those with green and pink markings that have it naturally, or rather once they unlock the dormant ability. All of you have dormant abilities, though my medics say yours has not unlocked yet. I find that curious, given how technologically advanced you are. To answer your question in part, we came here looking for your people because we are searching for Protovic everywhere within our reach. This area was beyond our search zone, but word of the fighting reached us through an ally.”

“What do you want with us?”

“It is complicated, but know that we have been inviting all the Protovic that we find to join us in our territory where we have built a section of our empire specifically for you. The one you met earlier was born there, and is special because he has the abilities from all the different colors, making him very powerful. He has the strength and speed enhancements that Oranges possess, and that you have within you. At some point it will unlock for your people and you will see a great increase throughout your civilization, and the same has happened for others. Not all, but many. There are Protovic spread throughout the galaxy in small groups and we have been trying to bring you all together.”

“For what purpose?”

“Our empire has hundreds of different races within it. We stand as a beacon of light against the darkness, and to it many fleeing tragedy run. Your civilization is far from us, but you are welcome there if you wish you come. The same goes for the rest of your people if they have the ships to travel the distance.”

“You came to offer us sanctuary?”

“Yes. And to investigate your current condition.”

“How far away?”

Aaron knew that wouldn’t translate, so he paused a moment while he dug into the Protovic’s mind and pulled up the distance measurements. They were approximate, given he had to reference images, but it should have been a decent ballpark figure.

“1300 lightyears straight shot. Longer when you have to bounce back and forth between stars.”

The Protovic slumped in his seat. “That would take us years.”

“I know. But you and the rest we pulled out of that fight are welcome to travel back with us, and it will take less than a year. We would offer more, but we have limited supplies onboard our three ships.”

“Thank you for saving us…whoever you are.”

“My name is Aaron. I’m an Archon. One of the leaders of Star Force.”

“Leader? You were the one on the planet fighting.”

“Yes.”

“Since when do leaders do anything but hide behind the soldiers?” he said with obvious disgust.

“In Star Force, those with the highest skills lead. Thus the military leaders are the most combat capable and we belong on the front lines in the thickest of combat. Especially when we have abilities that the others do not. Do not be alarmed, but I am going to demonstrate,” Aaron said, gently picking him up out of his seat with his Lachka and floating him in the air.

A string of shocked curses didn’t translate through the program, and Dashmir’s eyes remained wide and glowing when Aaron sat him back down.

“How can you do this?”

“Biological weapons carefully woven into our genetic code. All Archons have them. The rest of our troops do not, for the most part. This is part of the reason why we go into combat where others dare not.”

“Can you help us evacuate other worlds?”

“Possibly, but it would take time to get a message sent back and even more time to get even a small evacuation fleet here. How many more systems do you have?”

“I don’t know for sure,” he said as Aaron delved more deeply along those memories than he’d been able to do before. “At least 50 or 60. I know four have been destroyed, not counting here. Is there anyone else left?”

“No. The last points of resistance have been overwhelmed. We’ve seen no evidence that the Skarrons are taking prisoners, and portions of the attacking fleet are already transitioning out of the system.

The Protovic closed his eyes as if he were about to cry, his glowing blue lids replacing the deeper blow glow of his eyes, but after a moment of intense emotion he gathered himself and looked at Aaron again.

“What race are you?”

“Human. We founded Star Force, but now we make up only a small portion of it. All Archons are Human, but not all Humans are Archons.”

“How can we assist you?”

“By telling me as much as you can about your people. If there’s a way to assist what’s left of your civilization with my three ships we will, but we can’t stop an invasion of that size no matter how many of their vessels we kill.”

“Why didn’t they attack you?”

“They didn’t get the chance. Our ships are faster than theirs. If we keep moving they can’t catch us. Right now we’re sitting far out in the system where their gravity drives can’t take them with any decent speed. We’ll stay here until we determine where to go next.”

“We were promised help before, but it has not been forthcoming. They just let us die.”

“Who?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“The Li’vorkrachnika. A large empire that fought back against the Skarrons and conquered their worlds on our border. We brokered a deal with them to help defend this region, but when the Skarrons came with such great numbers they did not come to our aid. Not a single ship.”

“We are at war with the Li’vorkrachnika,” Aaron admitted, “and we conquered and captured their homeworld. We cannot push this far out from our current territory, so they have migrated further coreward. They had another ally, one that betrayed us, and in the end they too were destroyed by the Skarrons. The Li’vorkrachnika only make deals to benefit themselves, and inevitably they will betray you when it suits them. This is something we also came to warn you about.”

“You’re stronger than them?”

“Far stronger.”

“And why would you want to help us?”

“Because we can, and because it’s what we do. We’re protectors, not butcherers like the Skarrons. We’re currently fighting many wars on our other borders, against enemies stronger than the Li’vorkrachnika in some places. I came here because we seek out and find every Protovic civilization that we become aware of. I’m sorry it has to be under these circumstances, though.”

“I am grateful. But I do not see the point in saving us. Without the Li’vorkrachnika support we were promised, we cannot survive this.”

“I know.”

“But you said there are other Protovic out there? How many?”

“We’ve found over 230 different civilizations. Some with only a handful of people surviving in a small settlement. Others have planets full of them. Yours is the largest we know of.”

“How many have joined you?”

“We accept individuals from all, though some groups have completely joined us. A few not by their own choosing. Some Protovic act as the Skarrons do, and we had to stop them.”

“You wanted to know if we were honorable?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“And your conclusion?”

“Based on your memories and those of the others here, your civilization has done some bad things but it does not deserve what the Skarrons are doing to you. The Li’vorkrachnika do, and we’re happy to watch them fight each other, but you’re caught in the middle of it.”

“If I tell you a planet to go to, to see our leaders, will you still take us with you back to your territory?”

“If you wish, yes. I won’t trade you off for others or make you leave if your leaders demand it. We saved you from death, now you are ours to care for until you decline that help.”

Dashmir sagged in his seat, and this time he did start crying with relief.

“You will be welcome amongst the other Protovic,” Aaron promised him. “Tell me where to go so I can figure out if there are others that can be saved as well.”

“Do not go to the capitol. They will most likely fire on you and try to steal your ships. Go to Dfarch. The Empress there is trustworthy…if the Skarrons haven’t killed her yet.”

Aaron brought up a starmap over the table, zoomed in to their present location.

“Show me where to go.”

2 weeks later…

Aaron strode up through the throne room on Dfarch, escorted by more than 20 Orange Protovic with heavy beam rifles while he was in his armor but carrying no weapons. The atmosphere was compatible with his lungs, but he wasn’t about to come down onto an alien planet without some protection hence he’d insisted on his armor being worn, though there was no one else with him and his dropship was over 6 miles away at the royal airfield. He’d been brought here via a ground vehicle and now was approaching a posse of elaborately dressed, and in some cases scantily clad, Protovic females sitting and standing on an elevated dais in a myriad of poses.

“I am told you can understand our words,” the female in the most ornate chair said as he was stopped at the base of a shallow staircase before her.

“I can,” Aaron said, with his armor translating back into their native language, now more efficiently than before thanks to many tweaks made during the trip here.

“Speak then. Why have you come to me?”

“I was told that you were the most reasonable Protovic leader.”

“Flattery aside, if you will.”

“My empire has a policy of seeking out any and all Protovic civilizations that we can find. Yours was recently made aware to us by an enemy of the Skarrons that noticed their invasion into your territory. Thus I have come looking for you.”

That caused a stir, with muffled conversations happening amongst the lot.

“What do you mean by other Protovic?”

“Your civilization is not the only one. In fact, we believe there are Protovic scattered across the entire galaxy.”

More buzz and hushed voices followed, but the Empress didn’t avert her gaze from Aaron.

“Why have you not returned our people that led you here?”

“I rescued them from certain death. I will not leave them with you only to face it a second time. I have offered them sanctuary with us and those that have agreed will be traveling back with me on my ship to our territory where they will join with the Protovic there.”

“There are Protovic within your civilization?”

“They make up a significant faction of it, yes. We have sought out all of you to offer to incorporate you into our empire. There are many different kinds of Protovic,” Aaron said as he used his armor to project a hologram onto the steps between him and the Empress, nearly sending her protectors into a frenzy but a slightly raised finger from her and they backed off.

“You are what we refer to as ‘Oranges’ based on your secondary color. All others have green as the base, but there are Reds, Blues, Aquas, Pinks, Whites, Purples, and Yellows. Within your genome are suppressed abilities, and each variant has a unique one. Yours is an enhanced strength and speed that has not unlocked yet. Purples have enhanced senses and Pinks have the very rare telepathy that I also possess.”

The Empress moved ever so slightly. “You claim to read minds?”

“I can do more than that,” Aaron said as the room suddenly fell deadly quiet.

The Empress looked around, but no one was moving or talking.

“My apologies, but I think a private conversation is in order. I have temporarily frozen everyone else. My telepathy is stronger than even that which the Protovic possess. I can read minds…and I can also control them. I have left yours untouched so we can talk.”

The Empress stood up as if bitten.

“What treachery is this!” she demanded, but didn’t move more than a step away from her throne.

“We do not have time to play games, Empress. Your people are being annihilated by the Skarrons. I could play coy, talk to no end, bow reverently and all other types of crap, but what is the point? You’ll be dead soon no matter how hard you fight, and every moment that passes is a lost opportunity for some of you to survive. So I am showing you here and now how powerful I am, and while not all others of my kind are equal in skill or strength, our empire is stronger than the Skarrons and currently preparing a defense line in case they choose to attack us as well. They are here to kill the Li’vorkrachnika, but with such a high massing of fleets they will undoubtedly pursue other agendas within the region while assembled. Thus we are preparing to face them again if needed. We beat them the first time and pushed them out of our territory, and with a little more preparation we’ll even be able to hold back the insane fleets attacking you now.”

Of all the emotions swirling through the Protovic, anger flared to the forefront.

“You claim they are here to kill the Li’vorkrachnika?”

“I know it for a fact. They have suffered too many defeats by the Li’vorkrachnika, who have now crossed a boundary that they will not tolerate. They believe, and rightly so, that the only way to defeat the Li’vorkrachnika is to wipe out every last one of them. To do that they have assembled the majority of their fighting forces from across their entire empire to come here and kill them.”

She looked at Aaron gravely. “Then we have been betrayed.”

“Yes you have. They used you to shield themselves. The time and resources spent killing you will slow the Skarrons down a bit, and every world that the Li’vorkrachnika have is pumping out additional troops and ships at an unbelievable rate to counter this Crusade. The more time they have, the more resistance they can put up.”

“What is it that you want of those about to die?”

“To save as many of you as possible. We can’t evacuate your people given the distance involved, at least not with enough ships even if I could get them here in time. But if your people evacuate they will have a destination to run to,” Aaron said, bringing up a starmap and gradually expanding it out until the edge of Star Force territory came into view. A line connected the Protovic to the edge of Ninja Monkey space, then the map expanded out again until it showed all of Star Force territory and as much of lizard and Skarron space as they knew about.

“You are horribly outmatched,” Aaron said as the grandiose scale of the conflict sunk in on her, for she’d never had access to a map beyond the local region. “And you are not close enough for us to come to your aid. But if you can flee to us, you will have sanctuary.”

“In exchange for what?”

“Nothing.”

“If we are of no value to you then there is no cause for you to be here.”

“Yes there is. We’re the good guys. Saving people is what we do…amongst other things.”

“And you demonstrate this by taking control of my people,” she emphasized with a shaky wave of her hand to the living statues around her.

“They’re not harmed, and some of them were going to argue against whatever I said no matter how true. It’s best if you think clearly. I am monitoring your thoughts but not interfering with them. If I wanted to I could make you speak the words ordering an evacuation, but I have come as a potential friend and have no intention of being that rude without cause.”

“And what cause would justify such an offense?”

“Your ego causing people to die who otherwise could have escaped to safety.”

“I still do not believe you have no motive in this.”

“Then I will show you what we have done before, and who we are. It will take a moment, but you might want to sit down.”

“I am not so fragile. Show me what images you wish.”

“The hologram is too slow,” Aaron said as he linked to and started feeding a bunch of his own memories of Star Force into her mind. Halfway through, the effort and the content overwhelmed her and he jumped up the steps to catch her as she fell. He continued with his mental download until complete, then set her back onto her throne as he triggered his helmet to peel back and reveal his pale, unglowing face.

“Ugly, I know. But I’m a friend.”

“You can save us?” she asked, trembling.

“I know I can save some. How many more is up to you and how quickly we can work, but you have to trust me from this moment forward. We do not have time to waste, nor do I have time to explain this to others.”

“They would not believe you…but I do. And if this should be some trick,” she said, standing up as Aaron took a step back to give her room, “we are as sure as dead anyway. I will need my attendants.”

Aaron theatrically snapped his fingers and the people on the dais came back to life. He held onto the escorts and the rest of the people in the room until he’d backed down the stairs to his previous position, then released them…but they freaked out anyway upon seeing his helmet suddenly gone.

“Geez,” he said, waving a hand and rendering them all unconscious as they swarmed him. They fell to the ground as the Empress looked down at him. “They’re fine, but are way too jumpy.”

“Everyone hear me,” she said, gesturing with both hands to all assembled. “This person I declare to be an ally. You will not harm nor hinder him in any way going forward, under penalty. He has come to help us, and I am accepting this on behalf of our people.”

“Good,” Aaron said, climbing the stairs again until he was half a meter away. “Let’s get to work.”

8

November 12, 3574

Hammer System (Core Region)

Ironhold (Clan Scorpion Capitol)

Nero had gotten back two days previously, disbanding his three ships and their complement of warriors and techs that’d he’d worked with so well over the past decade and a half so they could pursue individual agendas or be reassigned to other missions. As for him, he didn’t feel up to commanding again and decided to continue the intensive training he’d put himself into on the trip back.

At the moment he was on the halo track in one of the Scorpion sanctums on the capitol/training world that served as the heart of the entire Star Force mech branch. Here Cora had designed, tested, and created the numerous prototypes that had then gone out and become standard equipment within the empire…but it was also home to their Clan and the only place he felt he should be at the moment.

Nero still couldn’t come to grasps with what happened. It had totally blindsided him and he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made a tragic mistake, though he was unable to pinpoint what it had been.

As he was running on the never ending track that had him traveling ever so slightly ‘up’ in a loop while being perpendicular to the ground thanks to the artificial gravity. Nero had gone through 8 loops on the mile-long track so far, passing most of the other Archons and getting passed by a few, for he wasn’t running hard, rather just maintaining a steady pace that most couldn’t match for more than a single lap.

He was working hard but not intensely, grinding away the big laps when a brush of air hit him as a slightly smaller female body buzzed past…only to turn around and start running backwards in front of him so she could look him in the eyes.

“We need to talk,” Cora said, matching him stride for stride while going in reverse.

“I’m sorry. I would have reported in person but I didn’t think you were on planet,” Nero said, still running. “I assume you got my report.”

“I did, which is why we need to talk,” she said, raising her left hand towards him…with Neo suddenly feeling a pressure on his chest that slowed him down.

“Now?” he asked, not fighting back and coasting to a stop. Cora matched his deceleration then pulled him over to the side of the track to get out of the way of the scattering of traffic coming their way from behind.

“Yes now,” she said, keeping her voice subdued but not whispering or talking with him telepathically. “What error did you make?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think,” Cora prompted.

“I have been thinking, ever since it happened and the entire trip back here. I don’t know where I went wrong.”

“I thought as much. You’re kicking yourself over what happened.”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“You shouldn’t like it, but unless you can find fault in your actions why are you doing it?”

“Because I left those people to starve to death.”

“Could you have prevented it if you’d stayed?”

“For a few, at least.”

“Which ones?”

“There had to be someone on the planet that wasn’t suicidal.”

“Did you look?”

“Not enough.”

“Did you search at all?” Cora pressed.

“You know we did. It was detailed in my report.”

“Which is how I know that everyone you encountered as hostile. An entire city full of hostile, suicidal, so-called ‘civilians’ without so much as one person who didn’t feel like being an asshole.”

“They’re all dead by now unless something miraculous occurred.”

“Did you do it to them?”

“No, but their survival was my goal and I failed. If you know how, please tell me. I can’t get a good night’s sleep no matter how hard I train. Only a few hours here and there.”

Cora held up a finger as a pair of Archons ran past, not saying anything but looking at the bystanders oddly.

“You were given a limited invasion force, so conventional construction projects were out of the question. You were going to have to rely on the local infrastructure and work force, and you preserved them as you should have. Meticulously so. The deal you struck was inspired. There is no fault in that.”

“But now they’re all dead.”

“And who is to fault? You? I think not. They decided to ransack the planet when they lost the wager. To deny it to Star Force. They had no intention of living, Nero. They did it to themselves. Why can’t you see that?”

“You’re saying I’m not at fault?”

“Yes I am.”

“I can’t accept that. It was my mission and it failed.”

“You took two gambles. The first one was the deal you struck, and that succeeded. You conquered the planet before the time limit expired and you kept virtually everything intact. It was your assumed gamble that failed. The one where you bet that these people, absent the defiant factions, would want to live more than they would want to spite you. You didn’t expect their entire population would riot to the point of destroying their own food supply. You didn’t expect them to be that stupid, because you were trying to do a very good thing on limited resources, and if you hadn’t made that assumption there never would have been a mission. The mission itself was a gamble, but the Mendz spited us in order to deny us our prize. They either thought it was the planet itself or their lives…to be used as slaves or what naught. They decided not to let that happen, and given your limited troops you could not have stopped that.”

“But it still happened,” Nero said, a bit of anger boiling over into his voice.

“Yes, it did happen. Something very bad happened, but neither you nor any of your people caused it. The Mendz trashed their own cities. They destroyed their own fields. They destroyed their warehouses. Who in their right mind does that? Think about it. Their entire military fought to the death. Not one surrender, correct?”

“No.”

“Why would you think their civilians would be different? They behaved because of the terms of the deal required them to. Once they’d lost you saw what they were really like.”

“What should I have done differently?”

“If a population will not submit, you either have to see them destroyed in one form or another, by your hand or theirs, or you choose not to invade. If you hadn’t gone, what would have happened?”

“They’d still be there…but pushed off the worlds they’d invaded.”

“For how long? We can’t babysit out there. There are too many worlds. You were right in wanting to find a final solution, and you did remarkably well with it, but ultimately they had a choice to make that you could not control short of an army of wielding stun weapons and foreknowledge of their actions. They either accept your rule or they destroy everything of value to you knowing that they’d die as well. They chose the latter.”

“I can’t be sure of that,” Nero argued. “If there was even one person out there that didn’t riot…”

“How could you have saved them?”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“Leaving was the right decision. They created that mess on their world, and there was nothing to be gained from staying if there wasn’t someone reasonable there to aid. If bad things are going to go down and we can do nothing to stop it, then there’s no purpose for us in being there…because we will try to mitigate it. And there are some battles we should not step into.”

“You didn’t do that with the Kiritas.”

Cora’s expression grew grim. “They asked for our help, Nero. And many died because we could not save them. We had to pick and choose which areas to help and strengthen, and no matter what choice was made people died. If we had walked away far more would have, but it was dirty work. I’m glad I wasn’t there, but those that were had to make a choice to keep their own supplies separate. Keep their ships, their crew, everything they had separate from the Kiritas. When people are dying you want to do everything you can, and they would have reduced their own rations to save a few more. They knew this going into it, so they established the rule beforehand.”

“How can you say one person isn’t worth saving if you’ve got food to share?”

“It’s a cruel rule, but a necessary one. Our people had to remain strong in order to help the Kiritas at maximum efficiency. If they reduced their own rations down to minimum in order to share them, then they would have become so weak they couldn’t do the job. The Kiritas on the whole needed Star Force there, fit and strong and active, where they couldn’t be. When you can’t save everyone, first you save yourself then go for bonus points. You do not make saving everyone your mission, for if you do you will suffer failure anxiety the entire way and it will both cloud your judgement and eat away at your heart. Remind yourself that you’re not causing this and that you’re here to help. Be the beacon of light in the darkness…but you can’t fear wading into it.”

“But what could I have done different?”

“If you don’t act because they might kill themselves, they control you with the threat. So not invading wasn’t an option. This should leave a bad taste in your mouth, Nero. You shouldn’t feel good about it. But after all this time fighting the lizards it shouldn’t be a new thing.”

“They didn’t starve to death,” he pointed out.

Cora closed her eyes, feeling the horror that difference entailed.

“No, they didn’t. The Mendz made a choice, perhaps without thinking about the consequences, but they did do it to themselves, Nero. It wasn’t you. And they knew it wasn’t you. You specifically preserved all that equipment, all those resources. No one was starving because of you.”

“Should I have asked for more people?”

“No,” Cora said, shaking her head. “You took enough and made it work.”

“But ultimately failed.”

“Those in the surrounding region don’t think so.”

“No. That part of the mission was a success. But destroying an entire planetary population wasn’t part of the plan.”

“We can’t control people, Nero.”

“Ironic considering the fact that we can.”

“Temporarily. We can’t make people’s choices for them, and whenever we go into a bad situation the history of that place can’t be wiped away with the wave of a magic wand. Actions have consequences, and whatever the Mendz had done over the years to put them in a societal state that encouraged and glorified defiance at the price of self-sacrifice is not something you could undo upon arriving. You know what it’s taken for the Veliquesh, right?”

“They lived.”

“Because we took them prisoner. And no, they didn’t all live. Some killed themselves because they wouldn’t accept being prisoners…and some died because they wouldn’t exist outside of their society. We live in a vicious galaxy, Nero. And sometimes things go bad even when we win.”

“But it happened on my watch.”

“And I’d be pissed if it happened on mine, which technically it did because you’re my Clan. And if the entire population of Heffen has starved to death by now, what do we do?”

“Short of traveling through time…nothing.”

Cora jabbed a finger into his sweaty chest. “Wrong.”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “What have I missed?”

“You won a big victory, but had it soured by a defeat. The civilians on that planet were supposed to be part of the spoils of war. They were a prize that the Mendz denied us. That was a loss, and a painful one considering how it went down. It wasn’t our fault, but it was a loss none the less. We didn’t have enough people there to subdue them and they took advantage of that…and that’s something we risk when we fight without overwhelming advantage. There is no fault there, but there is still the shame of defeat. So what do we do when we’ve gotten our ass kicked?”

“They’re dead by now. There’s no one to get even with.”

“Mojo.”

“I don’t take your meaning.”

“I’m giving you an MCV and three cargo ships filled with techs, plus one warship in escort. You’re going back there and claiming the planet for Clan Scorpion. If there are any survivors you can deal with them as you like, but the galaxy saw us run away from that system and in a way the Mendz won because of that. We’re going to deny them that barbaric victory by going back and making that world one of our own. I’ll give you three subsequent convoys of supplies, but beyond that you have to produce everything locally. I want a proper expansion and I want you to expunge the horrors that have happened there by shining the light as brightly and obnoxiously as you can. And when you’re done building a proper colony, either you or someone else is going to use it as a base of operations to put some order to the surrounding star systems. Do you understand me, youngling? Go back and kick the crap out of those bastards’ ghosts.”

“Yes, mom,” he replied in an automatic tone.

“Ships and crew are assembling. Get your ass off the track and into motion. You can train on the way back.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re Scorpions, all of us. In victories and defeats we’re united, and we need to settle the score here. And while you’re doing it on our behalf, stop putting the fate of the galaxy on your shoulders. It’s worse than weighted training clothing and slows you down far too much. I know from experience.”

“So what do you do?”

“Become the avenging assassin. Go after your targets and leave everything else to its own fate. Don’t let their misery drag on you. Be as strong and powerful as possible.”

“Detached?”

“To a point, yes. That way the only way the darkness can kill you is directly. Never by proxy.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Never said it was easy, and you can’t let yourself become heartless in the process. It’s a matter of focus. Go practice,” she said, raising a fist up to shoulder level in front of her.

Nero did likewise and bumped his against hers, then he was off and running to the nearest available exit while Cora stayed put for a moment until another Archon caught up to her, then she fell into step with him.

“Need something?” he asked.

“A little more effort out of you, pansy. How’s the arm feeling…”

9

January 31, 3575

Dfarch System (Crusade front)

Dfarch

“How many?” the Empress asked Aaron.

“We’ve got more worlds than we know what to do with, so that’s not an issue.”

“And you give them out freely?”

“Sometimes. Others have to pay for them. We do what’s needed.”

“If you fought the Li’vorkrachnika and won, why are they so powerful here?”

“They are beyond our reach here and chose to evacuate their leadership and start rebuilding while their old worlds fell to us. They abandoned them in order to buy time.”

“And what did you do with their people?”

“Most of them fought to the death rather than surrender, but in the end we were able to convince some of them to switch sides.”

The Protovic looked at him wide-eyed. “You are allied with another faction of Li’vorkrachnika?”

“No. They became part of our empire and are even now helping us fight on our rimward border against other enemies. We don’t kill people unless we have to. We’d rather…”

“Excuse me,” a Protovic said, half out of breath as he ran up to the Empress and took a hasty knee. “We have received…a warning from…our scouts. The Skarrons are coming…here.”

The Empress’s eyes widened, and Aaron could see her words catch in her throat.

“How long?” he asked in her stead.

“Our scout ship is faster than them. It made the jump once they started to in order to make certain. They will be here within a day. Two at most.”

“Load up whatever ships you can and get them out of here,” Aaron told her firmly, drawing some objectionable glares from her attendants who would never have used that tone in her presence. “We’re out of time. Save as many as you can and we’ll escort them back to our territory and I will find you a planet.”

“Of our own or as part of your empire?” she asked cautiously, though the fear in her eyes drained her curiosity in her own question.

“We’ll figure that out later. Right now we need to save as many as we can.”

“Take the children on your ship,” she pleaded. “You can carry more of them.”

“Good idea, but I’m going to do more than that,” he said, looking at the messenger as he was backing away. “You. Do you know what jumpline they’re coming in on?”

“Yes. The same the scout arrived through.”

“Do you have any space mines?”

“We don’t use such tactics,” the Empress said, with the messenger relieved to not have to answer that question.

“Do you have any rocks or rubble that we can drag in the way? Asteroids, old stations, dead ships…anything?”

“Not that will matter.”

“Every ship we destroy matters. And if we know where and approximately when they’re coming, we can ambush them. It may not save your world, but at least we’ll make them pay for it.”

“We?”

“I’m taking my two warships and waiting at their exiting jumppoint. They can’t send very many ships through at once, so there will be a bottleneck and I intend to kill them as quickly as possible. I need your warships there in support, and the longer we can hold that point the more time your evacuation ships will have to pick up people and exit via the star. If we lose stellar orbit, can your ships outrun theirs to get to a jumppoint?”

“Ours are faster, but it won’t matter if they blockade them.”

“Which is why we have to hit them as they exit to buy time. But you have to give the order now to evacuate. Every minute wasted could be more people dead that didn’t have to be.”

“We don’t have nearly enough ships for everyone,” she said gravely.

“I know. That can’t be helped. Save those that can be saved and don’t waste time trying to pick favorites or some lottery. Just shove people on the ships as fast as you can and get them to a nearby system where I can rendezvous with you later. I’ll stay here and kill what I can, then meet up with you.”

“I can’t leave people here to die.”

“They’re dead no matter what you do or don’t do.”

“Anja,” the Empress said, with another female Protovic walking up next to her throne and taking a respectful knee. “You hereby have my full authority to give orders in my name. Go with the Archon and command our fleet as is necessary. We cannot waste time with relayed orders. She will go with you on your ship, yes?”

“I’ll need comm protocols for her to use, but yes, she can stay by my side on the bridge.”

“I will stay and die here with my people. Anja, help the Archon kill as many Skarrons as possible. That is your purpose now. Go with him.”

“As you deem necessary, Empress,” she said, standing up and walking over to Aaron, then spun on her sandal-wearing heel to stand shoulder to shoulder beside him and completing the symbolic changing of service.

“Innet. You will take my full authority and organize and leave with the evacuation fleet. I will see to it that there are those with the necessary skills onboard, but the bulk of those being taken away will be our children. Do not allow the fearful to steal away their future.”

“I will need guards at the loading zones.”

“You will have them,” she said, looking to Aaron. “It seems the question of a new planet is moot. I am giving our next generation into your care. Take them to your Protovic and promise me they will be well cared for.”

“If they can make it to our borders, they will be.”

“Innet, Anja…see to it that happens, and at that point your service to me ends. Survive and find a new life with Star Force afterwards. That is my last command to you.”

Both remained silent, and Aaron could feel that they did not want to leave and live if she was not, but they weren’t going to contest her orders.

“Go. Before we waste any more time,” she said with an angry flick of her hand.

Aaron didn’t waste any time with sentiment, throwing the Empress a respectful two finger salute then turning and picking up Anja.

“Sorry, but we have to run,” he said, tossing her onto his back and holding her there telekinetically as he sprinted off through the assembled crowds, shoving aside those that did not get out of the way.

“Take her with you, please,” Anja implored him as she bounced around on his back once they were outside and he was moving as fast as a ground vehicle.

“Once the Skarrons start to arrive, I intend to kill as many of them as I can in order to give your planetary defenses the best odds possible. We won’t have time to come back to the planet and pick her up.”

“She is the most deserving person on this planet. If anyone is to live it must be her.”

“She’s decided otherwise and I don’t have time to argue. Right now my priority is getting as many of you off this world as possible. Which ones aren’t my concern. I’m sorry, but she made her choice and now I need your help to get as much junk in that spacelane as possible. Even something small hit at jump speeds can kill a ship and I want every advantage possible. Can you do that?”

“There are no asteroids to move.”

“Debris then? Unflyable ships? Cargo crates? Anything with mass…”

“Go right. That tall building,” she said, managing to extend an arm to point around the invisible lashes holding her onto his armor.

Aaron swerved without question, taking the moment to send a few orders via comm to his three ships in orbit.

“That door,” Anja amended when they got closer. When he got there he slung her off his back so skillfully she was able to step into a casual walk immediately and entered the building with her normal poise…or the best imitation of it that she could manage given the circumstances.

Orders followed, and to her credit Anja didn’t waste any time. A few minutes later when she was finished a vehicle was waiting for them outside the doors.

“Get in,” she told Aaron, and he hopped over the tall railing, bypassing the door entirely as she and two other personnel entered and sat behind the driver. “To the alien craft with all haste!”

Aaron held on as the wheeled vehicle accelerated quickly, and somehow the traffic ahead was clearing for them, opening up a straight shot to where his dropship was parked.

“These two are for communications,” she said, pointing to the pair of male Protovic accompanying her. “May they come with me?”

“Yes. And him too.”

“The driver?” Anja asked, shocked.

“And those three there,” Aaron said, pointing to a trio of guards unnecessarily standing near the dropship as they slowed next to it, for no one else was allowed within 200 meters of it. “I can make room for them on the warship, but we have to go now. 4 more lives saved, Anja. Order them to come.”

“Guards!” she yelled to get their attention. “On orders of the Empress, come with me now. You too driver.”

“Why?” he asked, though he was walking the direction she indicated without disobedience.

“It’s your lucky day,” Aaron said, shoving him along faster towards the ramp.

“You are assigned to me for the duration of my mission,” Anja said formally, though she was starting to tear up as the reality of the moment crushed her. “Get onboard.”

Aaron didn’t wait for them, running on inside and having a chat with the pilot. When they took off he flew low rather than heading straight to orbit, coming over top the crowds on the streets that had no idea what was about to happen to them.

“Grabbing a few more on the way out,” Aaron told Anja as he walked to the edge of the still lowered boarding ramp. “Explain it to them when they’re onboard.”

As the dropship moved into a drifting hover one body after another flew up and into view as Aaron telekinetically yanked them off the street and into his arms, then he tossed them back to the other Protovic so they could deal with their panicked states. Coordinating with the pilot to keep them moving over the thickest crowds, Aaron kept fishing people out at random until the dropship was packed, literally, then he closed the hatch and stood still in the rear as there wasn’t enough room left to walk up to the cockpit. He’d wedged them in that tightly, and even though they were freaking out now it wouldn’t matter later. They were on their way to orbit, and despite whoever they’d just left behind, either on the street or in their homes, it wouldn’t matter in a few days or weeks or however long the planet held out, for they were as good as dead already.

Harsh as it was, he’d just done them a favor…though he didn’t expect them to feel that way. Very bad things were about to happen on this planet, the kind of things that would drive an Archon crazy if you let yourself dwell on it. But for a few more people, at least, they weren’t going to have to be here to experience it.

“Here they come,” Aaron told Anja as she stood next to him in the command nexus onboard one of two warships he had with him on the jumpline. The cargo ship, while it did have some weapons and good shields that could have helped in this situation, was now full of Protovic children packed in as tightly as the Protovic supplies that had accompanied them would allow and was already on its way straight back to Star Force territory, leaving just the two warships and their drone fleets to fight.

He didn’t even have 300 ships in total. Less than half that at 142, which put him at an even greater disadvantage than Leonidas at the battle of Thermopylae. He did have 1,209 Protovic warships in support, but the enemy fleet was also larger. Estimated at 2.8 million, so all in all, the video clip he pulled from the ship’s entertainment library and sent to all of his remote pilots onboard both warships seemed appropriate.

“We will not win this battle,” he told them as the first Skarron ships arrived, running into pieces of space stations disassembled and flung far out into the spacelane beyond where the invaders were expected to emerge. “We will not die here either. The warships accompanying us will, because they will not abandon their worlds to the Skarrons.”

“So this is where we hold them. This is where we fight. This is where they die,” he said, cuing up the clip from 300 and sending it to every remote pilot’s station so they could hear the same words in that setting to get his point across, then he turned to Anja. “At this point, you just watch unless I need an order relayed.”

“You’re right about them not leaving. Even if the Empress gave it, they will ignore all orders to run and fight to the death.”

“We’re going to make sure a lot of Skarrons go with them,” he said, turning away from her and closing his eyes. “Now I have to concentrate.”

“Do your best,” she urged. “And thank you.”

Aaron fully linked into the nexus using his Sav-enhanced mind and became the fleet, watching the Skarron ships arrive and seeing the first of them to get through the debris as the rest broke up and flew past their position on in towards the star unable to slow down further. When the first intact one did emerge Aaron sent a corvette after its dark red bulky hull, a coloration that indicated it was from a faction different from those that had invaded Star Force territory long ago.

The corvette flew in towards it so fast the Skarron never had a chance to evade and quickly succumbed to a braking run that left the drone sitting right above it and pounding it with Dre’mo’don cannons. Its shields popped with the second hit and its hull didn’t last much longer than that. Being tempered against plasma weapons meant nothing against the vastly superior Dre’mo’dons and within a few seconds the ship was dead and the drone was accelerating around to another flanking position as a few more Skarron ships made it through the debris field intact.

Eventually the mines ran their course and the enemy ships began coming in in clusters. Aaron had the Protovic holding back in a large halo around the calculated jumppoint and sent out correction maneuvers to get them focused on the actual one…which was a bit deeper into the stellar gravity well than he’d expected.

They were given orders to let the Star Force ships shoot first and to go after any that got past them, so at the moment they were holding position and waiting while Aaron’s ships put on a display of what ‘superior firepower’ truly meant.

And it was working. Several Skarron ships would emerge every 10 seconds or so, but Aaron’s drones were so powerful they were able to destroy or disable them enough to be able to move on to the next batch as they came in…but it didn’t last. Apparently those dying were able to send a message back up the jumpline and the exit point began to drift further out as they began braking a bit harder.

Aaron moved out with it, chasing the incoming ships and soon finding that they weren’t just pulling back the jumppoint, but using multiple ones so they wouldn’t run into a single location…which also meant that if Aaron sent his ships into the middle of the line there would be a possibility of collisions.

With a thought he split his fleet and arrayed it like a cylinder, stretching it out up the jumpline and sending in the drones to target the now widely spaced ships as more kept coming in like little bugs on the battlemap. He kept the two jumpships at the base of the cylinder with the Protovic behind them as he quickly determined what sequencing the Skarrons were using so they didn’t run into each other. Once he figured that out he sent the drones into the zone on pointblank attack runs, blasting apart the Skarron ships as fast as he could while the jumpships sniped at the few that penetrated deeper through the jumppoint with their bloon launchers and Bra’hem beams…the latter of which penetrated a Skarron dreadnaught straight through with a single shot.

It’s working, Aaron thought to himself, but that debris was going to accumulate and make his attack runs harder. It would also interfere with the last bit of the Skarrons’ braking, causing lower level collisions, but if it delayed his ships from getting them their deaths were going to be to their advantage.

“Anja, I need your fleet to tow the debris in towards the star.”

“What?”

“Just give it a tug, or we’re going to get so much here it’ll prevent our ships from maneuvering and the Skarrons will bunch up.”

“Won’t they hit it too?”

“Just relay the order. They’re not responding to mine.”

Anja used a portable headseat and started talking as Aaron kept assigning targets and his remote pilots flew their assigned drones or targeted their weapons batteries as the Protovic ships eventually began breaking from their battle positions and moving into the base of the column, but not to shoot the remains of the Skarrons, for they needed them intact in order to tow them out, and that was the sticking in point in the order that Aaron had given within a millisecond along with numerous others going out to his own fleet thanks to the nexus neural interface.

Piece by piece the clogging debris started moving down to the star, but more and more was being added and soon Aaron had to request all the Protovic ships start moving in to assist. If they could keep the jumplane mostly clear then maybe Aaron could actually do this…but even his weapon systems had their limits in terms of ammunition/power, and if there was ever a time to test them this was going to be it.

10

February 3, 3575

Dfarch System (Crusade front)

Inner Zone

Aaron cycled back a destroyer nearly out of power towards his warship’s hold as the jumpship continued to fire its beam weapons. It had reserves the drones didn’t, but all the available recharges for them had been swapped out over the past 2 days of continuous fighting. Aaron hadn’t left the bridge for more than a handful of minutes as the Skarron convoy continued to come into the system in steady, staggered formations…right into the Star Force buzz saw. They’d altered their arrival jumppoint as much as they could, but given their weaker gravity drives they couldn’t brake much harder than they already were, meaning Aaron had them right where he wanted.

But it was all coming apart now and the Protovic ships were fully engaging rather than clearing debris, with a huge trail of it drifting in towards the star like a road of Skarron torment, for their ships didn’t have a chance arriving in such small numbers. The Protovic would not have been able to destroy them fast enough on their own and their numbers would have swelled, quickly giving the invaders the advantage, but Aaron being here had changed that, and blast it all, he was going to have to retreat because he was running out of fuel!

If he’d known he was going into heavy battle he would have stocked up appropriately, for while the standard complement of disposable weapons and fuel cells to power the gravity drives and beam weaponry were always in great number onboard carrier jumpships such as these, 52 hours of straight fighting was not something that was prepared for. When the lizard core worlds were invaded such battle longevity was expected over the course of weeks and they would have extra cargo supplements, but Aaron had no such resources here.

And damn it all, he could have pulled it off too! The Skarrons were dying in waves and the Protovic were sweeping the floor to keep his drones flying free…but now the Protovic were going to die because his ships were running out of fuel. Of all the defeats in history this had to be the most spectacular and most humiliating at the same time. 1,394,338 Skarron ships destroyed and counting by his 142, but now only 6 of them were still in the fight and the four drones among them would be recalled within 12 minutes before they were dead in space.

He could keep fighting with the jumpships’ weapons, but he couldn’t hold the jumppoint with them. The Skarrons would start getting ships through and their numbers would swell, meaning this position was about to be overrun.

The Protovic defense fleet was engaging and buying some more time, but they couldn’t lay down the same damage his drones could, meaning the Skarrons would gain numbers as the debris field increased and eventually overwhelm them, then head in to the planet and begin obliterating it.

Aaron, still leading the ongoing battle with his mind, opened a comm channel to the Protovic fleet. Anja was on the other side of the wall watching the battle alongside the Captain and in Aaron’s command chair, but since the first hour of combat there had been no need for her to relay orders. Seeing the damage Star Force was doing, the Protovic fleet captains bent over backwards to do everything they could to assist him without hesitation.

“You have fought well, allies, but my ships are running out of fuel. Within minutes only my two jumpships will have weapons and engine power, and we will not be able to hold this position any longer. According to your scouts’ report, there are many more ships on their way. Too many for you to defeat. You may want to die here, fighting, but as hard as leaving with the knowledge of what is going to happen on the planet is, know that you cannot stop it. You may buy them an extra hour, but no more. I will do what I can to slow the Skarrons as we leave, but I invite you to come with me and help escort your evacuation fleet back to our territory.”

“I hate leaving, but there is no choice. If we stay here, we die and we do not prevent the planet’s fall. If we leave, the planet falls but we survive to avenge them later. It is a bad choice to make, but the Skarrons have given us no other. Dfarch dies no matter what we do. So when we begin to withdraw, please come with us.”

“By the power the Empress has bestowed upon me,” Anja’s voice added, “I order all warships to assist in a fighting retreat centered on the Star Force jumpships. If we can distract the Skarrons into chasing us, we may be able to buy several more hours for the Empress where our deaths will not. So long as we live the Skarrons will have to split their focus, therefore we must stay alive and secure what time we can.”

“There is one last thing I can do,” Aaron added. “If the Skarrons are sharing information with those up the line, then they will know what has happened here and how many of their ships mine have killed. They may value destroying us more than attacking the planet. I will linger in this system and try to get them to chase us. If they take the bait it will buy some more time, but I don’t have the weaponry left to kill enough of them.”

Aaron saw in mind’s eye comm channels opening up across the Protovic fleet as dozens of their captains, weary from the past 2 days of maneuvers and seeing the unbeatable foe for what it truly was, were chiming in their individual support and allegiance to Aaron, bypassing their fleet commanders and going beyond Anja’s orders. After seeing what he had done, and how it had not been enough to stop the Skarrons, they no longer wanted to stay and die if there was no hope of saving the Empress.

With a thought Aaron uploaded comm protocols to all those ships and folded them into the Star Force battlemap, immediately giving them deployment orders as Skarron warships began to slip through the lesser firepower that Star Force was throwing down. He had them abandon the direct engagements and begin covering for the damaged ships in order to allow them to withdraw. Some wouldn’t go, so Aaron didn’t bother contacting them again. If this was where they wanted to make their last stand so be it. He’d done what he could.

The Archon made sure to get the Protovic fleet out ahead and have his two jumpships bring up the rear as the last of the drones redocked on nearly empty fuel cells. Accelerating away from the jumppoint slowly, he looked back and saw more and more Skarron ships coming in and pooling up in the debris field with a fair number of them colliding with it and taking themselves out.

The Protovic ships that stayed behind were superior in firepower and shields and were able to hold their own for a good while, but they couldn’t kill the Skarrons faster than they were arriving and the numbers tipped to their disadvantage quickly. At the end several Protovic ships changed their mind and turned to run…but three were damaged and couldn’t make better acceleration than the Skarrons’ weaker gravity drives.

Immediately Aaron reversed course with his two jumpships, ordering the rest of the Protovic to keep moving forward as he went back for them, popping out two of his drones with the most fuel left after he got the jumpships back on site so they wouldn’t have to burn off more power braking on their own. The destroyer and cruiser shot on ahead though, diving into the cluster of Protovic ships limping off and Aaron knew he was going to lose both of them. At this point he didn’t care and kept them fighting and destroying Skarron ships left and right as he brought his jumpship up and ordered the damaged Protovic vessels to get alongside it, at which point he extended his IDF field and grabbed them within it, then used his own engines to tow them away from harm while the rest of those fleeing Protovic ships accelerated away under their own power.

The two drones remained on station fighting, with the cruiser running out of power 18 seconds later and the destroyer lasting another 2 minutes. Their armor held up for a long while after that, but the Skarrons mercilessly pounced on them, not even thinking about capturing and studying them. If they were Aaron was going to swing back and take them out himself, but the ravenous combat appetite of the Skarrons took care of it for him.

He and the Protovic fleet now loyal to him kept to stellar orbit and waited while the Skarron fleet massed, then made a few feints to pull them out of position and danced around the star for a long while until the enemy got it in their heads to start blockading all outgoing jumplines…at which point Aaron had to leave the system behind. He repeated his request for the Protovic to come with them and Anja backed him up, but still a few ships changed their minds and headed back to the planet.

The rest jumped out along with the two Star Force jumpships, headed to the rendezvous point where every other surviving Protovic ship from Dfarch had fled with as many children shoved into them as they could fit.

When Nero returned to Heffen he did so alone. None of the Scorpions who had fought alongside him during the 13 year war had been assigned to him, giving him a fresh group of warriors and techs that hadn’t witnessed the struggles and horrors that had happened here. Those that did had been allowed to move on and shake it off, leaving him alone as the only one with a tie here.

As soon as they got back to the planet a scattering of ships in orbit ran off. None of them were Mendz, but rather scavengers coming to pluck what they could from the surface ruins and the fields of dead…but as soon as he got his people to surveying the planet from orbit he discovered that there were pockets of survivors. None too large in scale, but they were numerous and spread across the planet in a shotgun spread of malnourished and dying Mendz…with a few having fared better at or near where Nero had left the supply caches.

He immediately ordered troops to the surface armed with stun weapons and orders to hunt down and capture the survivors. Meanwhile he had techs pouring into one of the burnt out cities to start refurbishing pieces of it in order to establish a prison where the Mendz could be kept while they pumped food into them and dealt with whatever other medical issues there were…whether they liked it or not.

None of them were going to be allowed to run free, but as it turned out about a third of them had no wish to fight him. The others were textbook copies of those that had burned the planet, with the resulting horrors having done nothing to diminish their uncompromising defiance. Nero had them put in a separate area while he collected those that were, or had become reasonable out of the small groups that the hunters kept sending back as they scoured the planet.

It would take months to pick them all up, and at the end of the day there was just under 30,000 surviving…but that was 30,000 more than he’d expected, and while he wasn’t giving them back the planet it did feel good to know that his original mission here hadn’t been a total failure. Most of the planet’s population had died, but not all of it. And out of that tiny remnant there were those that were able to be worked with. Nero decided not to bother trying to incorporate them into Star Force via indoctrination, so he had one city partially demolished and then rebuilt for them to live in while his people began claiming the rest of the planet for their own.

The prisoners remained prisoners, and as he got proper facilities built he put them into the standard ‘indoctrinate or isolate’ protocol that would give them a chance to change their ways and if not they would be contained and cared for until they died. They wouldn’t starve to death or be eaten by their fellow Mendz. They’d have an ‘easy’ end, if there was such a thing, all the while with the obvious out available to them if they wanted to try for it.

With them taken care of and the agreeable Mendz wanting to be left alone anyway, he gave them a set amount of square miles to reestablish their fields and build other buildings as they were able, then put them out of mind while assigning a personnel relations attendant to oversee the building of a voluntary indoctrination program that he knew they would not make use of. It was there as an option there so there was a way out in case he was wrong and an individual amongst them suddenly decided to grow a brain.

With that redundancy in place Nero was able to write them off. His mission here was to create a full colony for Clan Scorpion, and from it to exert their influence on the surrounding systems and put some order to the chaos in this region. Right now that meant he had to build, build, build, and in the process of doing so pick up all the dead and clean away the riot marks on the Mendz cities as he slowly deconstructed and recycled them, removing one dot on the map after another while adding his own, made of proper Star Force architecture.

What had happened had happened and couldn’t be undone, but Cora had been right about not letting the defeat linger. This planet was a marker for a great horror, but it wasn’t going to remain as such. With every day that passed the stain on it was slowly removed with a new destiny rising in its place…and the same was true of Nero’s mojo, which had been utterly destroyed upon his previous failure here.

His brain told him otherwise, but his screaming heart had been overwhelming it with grief and futility that were washing away with the therapeutic construction that he was overseeing. There were no more battles to be fought here with weapons, for the Mendz were all contained and the scavengers and other visitors wanted to have nothing to do with the impressive warships in orbit. The battle here was now one of resources and construction, which were also part of an Archon’s impressive skillset.

Nero would stay here for a long time, but Cora would never come. Not that she had to with so many other projects on the table and an empire to lead on top of her Clan, but this was still due to her. He and the others might be doing the work of building, but had she not seen fit to send him back here, he felt that he would have carried a scar from this place for the rest of his life rather than experiencing the slow healing that this assignment allowed him.

And as the decades went by the free Mendz population expanded, their older ones dying off, and in what was a blink of an eye for an Archon centuries old, those who had been part of the great Riot were all gone. None had even attempted indoctrination amongst the prisoners or the colonists, leaving him with fresher minds to guide and who, after several generations, grew restless enough that they wanted more than to simply exist. They wanted a purpose, a mission, and to avoid the boredom of their reclusive existence they decided to officially become a Star Force ward and join the empire…even as it was crumbling.

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Rajamal

1

April 3, 3593

Unknown System

Unknown Planet

The standard variant lizard in command of this cruiser didn’t have a name. His operational identity was ‘captain’ and he was the primary of the two ships assigned to this mission. The other captain would follow his orders where necessary, but both of them would primarily follow well-established protocol regarding expeditionary missions such as this.

He’d been born some 18 years ago, having fought in three separate ground battles before being reassigned to ship command crew. He’d spent the past 8 years there, partaking in a total of 29 space battles against various primitive civilizations that the Li’vorkrachnika were conquering as well as a wealth of mundane patrol, escort, and guardian missions as crew before being assigned to a newly constructed ship as its captain.

He’d then engaged in a defensive battle over a moderately developed Li’vorkrachnika world that a local power was contesting. His experience there was what had given him the lead command on this mission, for the other captain had no combat experience in full command. Neither of them had expeditionary command experience, but the protocols regarding such things were so well defined that there was no need to specialize that heavily.

Their assignment was simple…travel into a lightly scouted region and put down infrastructure roots on a planet owned by someone else and take control of the planet. The cruiser he’d been given had been configured for expeditionary missions, meaning the necessary startup equipment was buried inside along with the genetic material to grow more Li’vorkrachnika as needed. As for how to conduct a mission such as this, well that was easy. A combination of data files, genetic memories, and adaptation was all that was required, and given the single existing small colony on this planet, a pair of cruisers should be enough in the way of assets to plant the industrial seed.

The tech level of the colony in question was uncertain but guessed to be high, thus two cruisers had been sent to spur the growth faster than normal. That said, he was not to engage the colony directly. That was ingrained into his genetics in such a way that neither he nor another mission commander would make that mistake. His two ships were meant to land and build an army that would later attack, meaning his insertion to the planet was going to occur on the far side and out of view of the single city that had no orbital constructs or ships visible. It was simply a few small structures spread over no more than 3 square miles, but trails into the surrounding area and what looked to be auxiliary structures/sites placed around the perimeter indicated that whoever owned this world had been here a while.

Their identity was one item on the captain’s list of things to discover, for if these inhabitants proved to be too powerful to conquer then it was his responsibility to relay that information back, then a decision would be made whether or not to follow up with more assets or to avoid this location until regional strength increased. Only on the odd chance than the local owners were far more powerful would the Li’vorkrachnika pass them over, and if it took the death of a couple of cruisers to figure that out then so be it. Exploration was necessary in order for them to expand, and simply taking scans from orbit did not tell you enough about new races being encountered. Battle would tell far more.

So the captain brought both cruisers down to the surface next to one another in a jungle region where the trees grew so tall they came up halfway on the starships. Nestled down in between nearby ridges they were hidden from all but overhead scans and the first thing he ordered was for additional camouflage measures be enacted on the upper hull to match the surrounding foliage.

To accomplish that they uprooted many of the trees beneath their landing zones before they touched the surface and relocated them up top. It took several weeks of work, but by the time they were finished his command cruiser was almost completely buried beneath a thin layer of dirt with living trees spreading out their pink/green foliage over top the site. Nearby the second cruiser sat much more in the open and ready to take flight for operations across the planet or into orbit as needed, but if someone did see this location it was more than likely they would only spot the one ship, thus allowing him to hide the second in plain sight beside it for few would expect camouflage of one right next to the exposed other.

It was an old trick, and while the crew of the exposed cruiser scurried across the jungle floor scouting and prepping the immediate area, shafts were being dug beneath the command ship going out laterally and down into the bedrock where they would begin mining ore deposits scanned upon approach.

Other resources would be harvested in close proximity, then trails and tunnels would extend out further to establish secondary sites as the infrastructure web began to grow. When sufficient foodstuff production was established new lizards would be grown and the workforce increased, and from that point on his operation on this world would snowball so long as they were left alone.

He didn’t probe the city or surveil it at all for several months, but eventually he began sending out scouts in small transports to establish listening posts across the planet, slowly creeping their way around until they could observe the city from afar. Not underestimating their sensing capacity, he gave orders to stay hidden and bring no flying assets within line of sight over the curve of the planet, meaning his scouts had to travel by foot for hundreds of miles just to get in position to plant automated surveillance devices that could monitor aerial traffic from afar.

But there was none for a very long time. It was two years before he saw the first ship arrive, slightly bigger than one of his cruisers, and it moved straight down to the colony, landing there and staying for 8 days before leaving again. After that he saw no more ships, nor any planetary aerial craft flying over the colony, which emboldened him to send scouts in for a closer look. The acceleration profile of that ship indicated very powerful gravity drives, suggesting that this race was more advanced than the Li’vorkrachnika. If that was the case, then this mission had greater importance than just claiming the planet. He had to engage them in effective battle in order to ascertain their strengths and weaknesses.

The jumpship that had dropped off the two cruisers in this system didn’t return for another year, at which time he submitted his report and it carried it off as it cycled from one expeditionary site to another delivering a few needed supplies, in this case corovon, and keeping a link between worlds that had not developed the invading presence to the point of building interstellar communications or jumpships. The captain’s mission here would remain off the grid unless visits were made to update the rest of the Li’vorkrachnika as to their progress, but per his orders the jumpship never arrived when the far side of the planet was visible in order to hide its approach.

With the corovon supplements the captain was able to advance their construction rate by adding more specialized equipment fabricated from mostly local resources harvested, and in turn that allowed them to seek out and utilize more of the planet’s natural wealth. Meanwhile data on the planet was continually expanded. Local areas were intricately mapped by patrols with surveillance devices cleverly hidden in the terrain monitoring the local wildlife and anything else that moved. Such devices were also extended up near to the colony where they began seeing small activity of the local inhabitants…

Which is where everything started to go wrong. After the first automated report of concealed bipeds about twice as tall as the Li’vorkrachnika being spotted in the evergreen forests around the colony, the devices began to go offline and the living patrols he had around the perimeter failed to check in. Before he could mount a stronger reconnaissance the supply encampments between the colony and the long hike back around the planet started disappearing.

There was no sign of aerial craft, nor any ground vehicles detected, but one by one the encampments dropped off the grid and the surveillance devices around them shut down before they could register anyone nearby. All the captain knew of was the loss of sites on his information grid, and as the weeks went by the loss of assets passed by the midline mark between their landing site and the colony with the implication of the outages eventually backtracking to their primary base. How they were tracking and identifying every hidden outpost he didn’t know, but whoever was on this world with them was demonstrating abilities beyond his current understanding.

He needed to get eyes on them, whoever they were, before they got to his two and a half cruisers, for a shipyard with a partially constructed hull was sitting next to the pair and ready to churn out more with necessary expansions as resources allowed. So far the losses to his operations were minimal, but if this blackout continued to get within 1/8th of the planet’s curve from them his major mining sites would be jeopardized…and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

So he assembled a significant army of standard variants, producing enough small arms to equip them and assuming he’d lose them all, and sent them out through the network via small troop transports and deposited them well short of the blackout line. From there they moved out on foot and took up position at one hybrid supply/hunting camp and dug in, planting numerous surveillance devices as well as having distant observers that would run away on foot the moment they saw what was happening. The captain had to know what it was he was fighting, and this recently constructed army of over 4,000 was going to be the bait in order to get at least one message or messenger back to him with some reconnaissance so he would know what he needed to adapt to.

It worked. For while the entire force was wiped out and the automated surveillance was shut down before it could even send a diagnostic ping through the network, three scouts looking through basic telescopic cameras observed what should not have been here. Two bipeds, and only two bipeds, assaulted the army in a clearing established so they could have good lines of sight on them, and the images the captain were looking at pricked his genetic memories.

He had never seen an Archon before, but the strength, speed, body type, and bizarre abilities these were displaying matched them perfectly. He knew what they were, with the knowledge bred into him that he could not beat them with so few assets. Even if there were only the two on the entire planet that would be enough to stop his limited development, and there was no way of knowing how many more they had in that colony.

They shouldn’t have been here. This expeditionary mission was on the coreward side of Li’vorkrachnika territory opposite that from the Star Force border. If this altered armor, buildings, and ships were a means for them to conduct surveillance of regions far from their region anonymously then that was a vital piece of information that the templars needed to be made aware of.

But the captain didn’t think his forces would last long enough for the next jumpship to arrive, and if it did it might very well be destroyed if Star Force was now alerted to their presence. He had to get the information back himself, and that either meant building an interstellar transmitter powerful enough to reach the closest link in the chain…which wasn’t possible given the ranges involved…or he had to take a cruiser back at the highest jump speed it was capable of maintaining and suffer through the long, slow coast phase and hope to rendezvous with the jumpship prior to its arrival here.

Either that or get to the next closest expeditionary location, which as far as he’d been informed was some 83 lightyears away. That’d take his cruiser 17 years unless upgrades to the engines were made, and that was assuming their supplies would last that long, which they wouldn’t.

So the captain began cannibalizing his two intact cruisers while pouring all available resources into the partially constructed hull, increasing its number of gravity drives while configuring it for as small a crew as possible. Meanwhile everyone else began prepping the base for the eventual attack and establishing all manner of traps at the surrounding bases in the hopes of slowing down or perhaps even killing one of the Archons.

That was unlikely, but the progression across the planet suggested that they didn’t have too many of them and that they were eliminating every instance of Li’vorkrachnika invasion rather than heading straight to the primary base. At the very least they should have been making a more direct route, assuming they were tracking communications links or raiding the memories of his troops, but they weren’t. They were taking down everything in closest proximity to their colony and working outward methodically, giving him more time to build.

To that end he also established a lot more little bases out there, spread as far as he could, and made sure to interlink them all so they could be found. If this clearing methodology was going to continue to hold, then he could use it to his advantage to buy himself more time to build.

And it worked, for the little bases did draw attacks that spared the others for more days, though the rate of them falling suggested that there were more than 2 Archons in play. No matter, though. However many there were they were coming here and the race was for resources and construction, the latter of which wasn’t possible on many fronts that required more infrastructure than he currently had, namely the production of jumpship-caliber gravity drives.

So what he did was pull drives off the two existing cruisers and add them to those being built fresh, using bulk rather than quality of design to trim years off the journey and even foregoing the placement of weapons on the new ship. If Star Force was here and had naval assets in play, then it wouldn’t matter whether it was armed or not. It would be easily destroyed, so there was no need to waste materiel or weight on them, and the lighter the ship was the faster it would go.

Using every industrial protocol and genetic memory available to him, the captain succeeded in getting the third cruiser built before the closest perimeter bases fell. He assigned the other captain to the ship along with a crew of 6 and stuffed as many supplies into it as they could, both fuel and foodstuffs, then launched the ship along with the second cruiser that accompanied it up to orbit ready to run interference if necessary, but no ships emerged. The messenger ship made the microjump out to the star and eventually signaled back that it was in the clear before it made its long interstellar jump carrying the vital information back to the templars…assuming it would make it.

That was beyond the captain’s ability to control now. His duty to the message was now complete, but his mission here was not. He was to conquer the planet, which was now totally unlikely with the presence of Star Force…yet they only had a small outpost here and an unspecified number of Archons. If they could be eliminated then it was possible that his forces could at least damage their colony, depending on what other defenses they had. It was a long shot, but one thing his genetic memory made clear was that whenever you had an opportunity to kill an Archon you took it. No matter what the cost.

He had two ships left, but he wasn’t going to risk flying them into hidden weaponry at the colony. On ground reconnaissance would be required first, and that wasn’t going to happen with Archons hunting down and eliminating every scouting party and base he had. They had to be the target, and he only had one weapon capable of defeating them.

His cruisers. But if he brought them in and bombarded the next location they hit, assuming he could get them there before the Archons wiped out the next camp, there was no way to guarantee close range bombardment would be able to destroy them if they couldn’t pin them to one location. He didn’t want to lose a cruiser, but with Archons you couldn’t give them an out and expect them not to find a way to take it. He had to attack them in a way they couldn’t defend against, and that left only one option.

So he arranged another camp, a fresh one in a geographic location that was in a wide, shallow depression and he had his people build up fortifications that would slow and pin the Archons down once they invaded, even if they attacked from stealth. When the captain’s ranged scouts reported that the blacked out base was under attack, the second cruiser flew out to it and gained altitude, climbing up to just above the atmosphere before reversing course and accelerating through as fast of a microjump as it could manage while maintaining its course.

The resulting fireball of a cruiser, slicing down through the atmosphere thin edge forward, impacted on top of his own troops...whatever was left of them anyway…and punched them and everything nearby down into the ground in a massive kinetic explosion that was amplified slightly by the concave nature of the landscape.

The resulting mushroom cloud of dust and debris was visible on the horizon from the main base within minutes, and the captain hoped that whatever Archons had been attacking that base had been delayed long enough to have been caught in the blast. And if he was very lucky it would have been the only ones on the planet, leaving him with a narrow margin for victory if all that remained were secondary troops and a handful of their workers.

So with his one remaining buried cruiser he began pumping out infantry as fast as he could grow them and he sent scouts back to establish a network of limited camps across the planet to begin scouting the perimeter of the Star Force colony again. If they didn’t go dark then he’d know that the primary threat had been eliminated and he had until another enemy ship arrived to do what damage he could to this outpost.

Him and his men surviving this mission was not a possibility. They were going to die here, but he intended for them to hurt Star Force as much as possible before then, even if it meant a single enemy soldier or building of theirs being damaged. Li’vorkrachnika were expendable. Star Force troops were not. And any wound inflicted on them would be a victory.

And he still had one more cruiser to use if needed, though he was going to see how much he could accomplish with ground forces first.

2

October 12, 3597

Trienman System (V’kit’no’sat territory)

Ennsop (Lir’nen outpost)

The armored dilophosaurus knelt down next to a large chunk of rock and pushed with his strong legs, using his weight and the help of two Zen’zat to move the debris off the remains of the second Zen’zat that had been caught in the enemy ship’s suicide run. There was no mental signature to be found, but the Lir’nen was going to recover the body anyway. Part of the armor functions were still intact, allowing them to locate it amongst the crater where the ship fell, but the biometrics were signaling that he was dead.

Never the less, missing both arms and a leg wasn’t always fatal and the chest armor looked to be in pretty good shape. The neck, though, had a gash across it and a piece of wood, no less, sticking out from the wound.

“Pull him out,” the Lir’nen ordered, with the two Zen’zat accompanying him carefully extracting the body from the mess and laying it free on a more or less flat slab of dirt/rock beside them. Using his limited Lachka, the Lir’nen floated over a Kich’a’kat and placed it against the left arm socket. He arched a scaly eye ridge in mild surprise when it activated, melting into the wound and sinking its fibers out through what was left of the body.

Several minutes passed before a heartbeat returned, and along with it a mental signature. That was good, for the other Zen’zat had been beyond help, and according to the limited logs he was pulling from the damaged armor the lesser internal Kich’a’kat components had revived and sustained him long enough before failing entirely to enable the rescue team to get here in time…but not by much. He would live, but he would be of no use in the upcoming fighting.

The piece of wood detached from his neck on its own as the tissue there partially regenerated, but without supplemental materials to regrow it fully, the Zen’zat body was still a mangled mess. They would have to get him back to the outpost to regenerate everything, but one of the living Zen’zat took a knee beside him and peeled back the armor on his fingers so he could make a direct connection to the stricken mind and settle it as the Kich’a’kat withdrew, it’s work done.

“What shall we do?” the other Zen’zat asked the Lir’nen, which stood slightly shorter but massed far more with its horizontal back and tail stretching out some 8 meters in length.

“They will be avenged, and soon.”

“We have no more combat Zen’zat.”

“We won’t need them. These vermin are no match for us, so we’re going to take care of this here and now. We will not wait for backup. But we must keep some of them intact long enough to ascertain their source. The reckoning will not end here, I promise you that. Bring him,” he said as a small gunship being flown by another Zen’zat drifted over to them upon mental request and the partial, but living body was laid down next to the remains of the dead one as the Lir’nen and its two research assistants jumped up inside and rode back across the sky towards their small outpost.

They were on a frontier world at the very edge of the V’kit’no’sat empire, and one not shared between races. This planet and system belonged to the Lir’nen, but their interest here was purely scientific. They were studying the internal makeup of the odd planet and making adjustments to mining equipment for use in other systems that faced similar difficulties. It was a research outpost only, not a proper colony, and there were only 6 Lir’nen here along with 9 Zen’zat, two of which were combat trained for security reasons. The rest were research staff.

When the surviving Zen’zat was returned to the medical facility his limbs were regrown, but his status remained grim. His mind was non-responsive for 7 hours before suddenly waking up in a surge of pain and horror. A nearby Zen’zat tried to restrain him, but she was thrown across the room with a single arm thrust of the warrior as he punched and kicked and tore up the bed he was laying on and anything else nearby in a rage, but left the shell-shocked research assistant laying against the wall until one of the Lir’nen came rushing in.

Unable to subvert the Zen’zat’s mind, the Lir’nen had to take to physical restraints. Had he been a warrior he might have been able to do it with Lachka, but his was trained for delicate manipulations of microscopic equipment, not brute force, so he was going to have to use his natural abilities to subdue the crazed survivor…which was easy enough.

The Lir’nen took three steps toward him in a slow charge, lowering its head with its two cranial spines sparking to life and creating a convex bioshield that it used to ram the Zen’zat off its feet, then hit it two more times before pinning it between the shield, the floor, and a wall as it shouted telepathically.

Be still! You have been rescued and are in no danger!

But it was no use, and the Zen’zat even struck back against the bioshield. It didn’t use any of its psionics, only its limbs, and that suggested this wasn’t a thoughtful assault, merely the reaction of a mind that wasn’t fully functioning.

The Lir’nen gave him a little room, just enough for the Zen’zat to get to his feet, then he rammed him again, harder this time, and pinned his soft flesh against the wall as the Lir’nen’s four eyes stared up into the face of the crazed warrior. He had to dig his feet in hard to keep the pressure up enough, otherwise even the weakened Zen’zat would have been able to free himself, but after another 20 seconds of struggling the resistance stopped and he fell unconscious to the floor as another Lir’nen arrived.

“What did you do to him?” he asked as the Zen’zat slumped to the ground naked save for a pair of shorts.

“I did nothing,” he explained, telekinetically lifting the Zen’zat onto his feet and dipping his short neck underneath to help lift him up onto another bed that hadn’t been destroyed in his rage. “He suffered an overload. The repairs were not complete.”

“How so?”

The Lir’nen waited to answer as the scanning equipment updated the statistics as the research Zen’zat slowly got to her feet and walked over to assist if needed.

“He struck you?”

“Yes,” she said, shaking it off. “Sloppily so. I believe he is striking anything in range due to a displacement.”

“Explain.”

“Something is not right internally, so much so that he can’t access it in order to attack it, so his warrior nature seeks out something else to attack. With limited brain functions an attack is warranted and needed, but he isn’t able to ascertain what to attack.”

“You have seen this before in Zen’zat?”

“No, but I remember an instance of it happening to a Hjar’at. I believe his injuries were also concussion based.”

“Why is the Kich’a’kat not solving the problem?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nor do I,” the other Lir’nen echoed. “We need a medical specialist.”

“Very well, but I want this threat dealt with before they arrive. This is our score to settle.”

“We will need time to fabricate battle armor,” the Zen’zat said neutrally.

“Do so…for all of us.”

She nodded and walked out, leaving her kin to the Lir’nen.

“You mean for us to fight?”

“This situation is insulting enough. I do not want to have to call for combat aid as well.”

“They have another ship remaining. The tactic could be repeated once more.”

“It is currently buried and functioning as the center of their base. If we go there first and eliminate it, we eliminate the threat. We can clean up the rest of them later.”

“Do we know the exact location?”

“Close enough. We will leave one Zen’zat here with the injured warrior. The rest of us will go and destroy the vessel, then move on to the rest with all haste.”

“I have not fought in more than 9,000 years.”

“Longer for me, but this is necessary. We must mitigate this disgrace as much as possible before the others are informed.”

“There are no Lir’nen assets nearby,” he said in understanding.

“We will have to ask for medical aid from the Ari’tat or Voro’nam. I do not want to ask for their troops. Being defeated by primitives is humiliating enough. We must end this ourself.”

“So be it. I will be ready.”

“See that the others are. I will make sure this one remains sedated.”

When the Lir’nen dropped from the gunship and into the jungle they were quickly met with enemy ground troops, but their weapons couldn’t penetrate their armor’s shields, let alone the plates, and the hip mounted Dre’mo’dons were killing the short, green-tailed invaders with single shots. They were quick on their feet, but otherwise totally unimpressive. The noncombat V’kit’no’sat had no trouble tracking down and killing them in the jungle, though at times a Lachka hold was necessary to maneuver one into shooting range.

When they came to the underground caverns that crisscrossed the area and connected to the ship the Zen’zat went down, for the Lir’nen were a bit too big to fit comfortably. Instead they headed topside and ran up on the mound of dirt covering the ship while scanning below with their minds and taking control of those within range to ensure that the ship would not lift off.

They held them in check as needed en mass to prevent a liftoff, but when the Zen’zat worked their way inside and the Lir’nen had fewer minds to handle they started overriding the biological impulses in the last few, preventing their bodies from breathing and shutting down their heartbeats, killing them from afar. Doing so was not easy, for they had to fight autonomic redundancies, but the rage they felt for these vermin encouraged the superior effort in the last few that the Zen’zat hadn’t gotten to yet.

“The ship is clear,” one of them reported over the comm in their armor.

“Begin downloads and route everything back to the central computer. Two Zen’zat stay, one to work and one to guard. The rest come with us. We have the remainder of this infestation to purge.”

2 weeks later…

An Ari’tat ship entered orbit over the planet, sending down a delegation of medical and security personnel to meet with the Lir’nen at the landing zone within the outpost. Two of the smaller Ari’tat led the ‘tall’ Zen’zat warriors out, behind which came two more Zen’zat carrying medical equipment as the tiny V’kit’no’sat hopped over to the waiting Lir’nen, looking up at them from their half meter height. It was galling that such a small race had territorial holdings greater than they did.

“The injured Zen’zat is inside.”

A mental command from the Ari’tat sent their Zen’zat off to find the damaged one, but the four warriors remained.

“What have you learned of these attackers?”

“They are expeditionary scouts tasked with gathering information and plucking what vulnerable worlds they can in advance of a larger invasion force. Their empire is primitive, but quite large.”

“How large?” the Ari’tat asked.

“It extends through two galactic arms. These vermin reproduce quickly, and such growth is their primary strength.”

“Have you located a capitol?”

“No. Their records are remarkably incomplete.”

“Advanced scouts should not have such information,” the Ari’tat noted what it seemed to think should have been obvious. “How many remain on this world?”

“None. We have exterminated all visible and I have Zen’zat looking for hidden survivors.”

Another mental command and two of the Zen’zat warriors broke off from the group.

“While we are here we will also search.”

“If you feel the need. They are no threat to us here.”

“A dead Zen’zat says otherwise.”

“They crashed their ship deliberately in order to eliminate them.”

“Admittedly that is odd, but they succeeded nonetheless.”

“That they did.”

“Do not consider your pride wounded, Lir’nen. This is an assault to all V’kit’no’sat, and we must respond accordingly.”

“We claim priority.”

“And you shall have it, I assume. But you will not pursue this alone unless you have far more resources than we are aware.”

“You needn’t bother with it. Their technology is primitive.”

“Is this an attack of ignorance?”

“We do not know. Their commander was not recovered and their subordinates know nothing.”

“A bit too hasty in your counterattack?”

“They are clones without differing markings.”

“Curious. Have you recovered any of their technology?”

“We have one of their ships intact.”

“May we see it?”

“It is not here. It remains buried where they were building their infrastructure.”

“Building? Not gathering?”

“It is not a temporary camp. They were putting down permanent roots from which to spread from.”

“Rather than assault directly?”

“They never struck at the outpost. They came here with few numbers and intended to increase them on planet. Gestation time to full adult is something inside of two months.”

“Do you feel this primitive enemy is greater than their limited technology?”

“I am waiting for our warriors to make that determination.”

“What did your Zen’zat warriors say prior to being defeated?”

The Lir’nen huffed once at the word ‘defeated.’ “Irrelevant.”

“It’s a pertinent question.”

“That was their assessment of the vermin, not mine of your question.”

“Do these vermin have a name?”

“Li’vorkrachnika.”

“It needs to be erased from the galaxy.”

“It will be,” the Lir’nen promised.

With a mixed contingent of Zen’zat in the medical facility there were no factional disagreements here. Though they may have served different masters, they served the V’kit’no’sat overall and the camaraderie between Zen’zat across the empire was never in doubt. One of their own was damaged and another was dead…and they all wanted vengeance.

They were here now to attend to the Zen’zat before them. The medics to scan and correct if possible, the warriors to restrain if needed, but primarily here to stand by their brother. All Zen’zat were selected individually out of the Ter’nat population, isolated until they were upgraded and joined the V’kit’no’sat as elite servants, and in that union they entered into a brotherhood that was not feeble. Zen’zat were not a faction within the V’kit’no’sat, for they held no territory of their own, but the bonds between them were as strong as any of the races, and perhaps more so because of the factional divisions they had to straddle while maintaining their neutrality and unity.

What the medics finally had to report was not good. The Zen’zat’s mind had been damaged from the prolonged lack of blood flow. Portions of it, while physically repaired, had gaps that left his mind incomplete. He was fighting phantoms and unable to be reasoned with, which meant he was no longer fit to be a Zen’zat.

That meant he was effectively dead. In that situation most Zen’zat would prefer to be eliminated, but the medics indicated that there was a possibility of longer term recovery and the Zen’zat agreed that he deserved the chance to one day recover his position amongst them. It was unlikely that he could succeed, but if he could achieve the position the first time in his life then he had what it took to do so again.

The Zen’zat negated his service to the Lir’nen on their own authority and took him into their own custody, arranging for a transfer via the Ari’tat to take him back to a Ter’nat world where Zen’zat too damaged to continue their service were sent to recover with the help of those that took orders from their elite kin. Zen’zat had assignments to carry out and could not waste time trying to elevate another, but they would make sure this Zen’zat had everything he needed in order to have a chance to relearn the skills, knowledge, and balance missing from his mind.

And until he arrived there, he would have a Zen’zat honor guard the entire way until he was ‘retired,’ after which he would officially be on his own, though other Zen’zat would monitor and give orders from afar as to how his recovery team should aid him…and if his recovery should not manifest, a Zen’zat would return in time to give their brother a proper death. They would not leave him to wither away as a Ter’nat. He would die a Zen’zat, one way or another.

3

December 15, 3597

Tham’ron System (V’kit’no’sat Sector Capitol)

Weech

“The reports we’ve received indicate a significantly large, yet primitive empire that is rapidly expanding towards our border,” a Lir’nen said, standing on the floor of the Hall of Imperium as councilors from the various races in the V’kit’no’sat listened. “Their attack proved fortuitous in the death of a Zen’zat and the crippling of another, however subsequent analysis of thought patterns suggest such tactics are not a fluke and that these Li’vorkrachnika exhibit a cleverness that allows them to exceed their technological limitations. Coupled with an aggressive reproduction rate and the casual regard for preservation of their own lives, they are essentially a single, unified weapon bent on conquest of the galaxy.”

“Are you suggesting we should be concerned with them?” the Brat’mar said with a measure of contempt.

“No. Only that they mistakenly believe that they can attack us with impunity and others who believe the same need to be taught a lesson. Wiping them all out will take a large amount of effort, not in the difficulty of combat but in the sheer number of systems required to be assaulted. We are recommending that…”

“There is no point in half measures,” the huge Oso’lon said, bypassing the lesser races and jumping into the conversation immediately. “Either they are too primitive to be concerned about or they need to be annihilated. Which is it?”

“They have killed a Zen’zat,” the Hjar’at stated coolly, “and exploited a weakness in the Lir’nen outpost. They have made a successful attack against us. That should be all the explanation you require.”

“Agreed,” the Oso’lon said, twisting its long neck to the side and tipping down towards where the Lir’nen counselor sat on its elevated pedestal while the other member of their race issued the report. “This assault was against you, therefore you take priority. Garras, what are the Zen’zat feelings on this?”

One of the 4 attendants in the room in a small control center looked up at the giant head in the distance. He was not assigned a faction, but rather to the sector capitol that had every race with a colony present represented here, and he served them all while technically remaining independent.

“The attack was on a Lir’nen world, but only Zen’zat were involved in the combat. We will confront this defiler in whatever way you direct, but we would prefer to have an independent stake in this.”

“Is there a map for us to see the scope of this threat?” the I’rar’et asked, with the Pterodactyl sitting on a perch rather than a cushioned pedestal.

“A partial only,” the witness said apologetically, summoning up a starmap in front of each counselor. “These invaders only have limited data of nearby worlds without full knowledge of the scope of their empire. Corroboration with intelligence previously gathered from beyond the rim indicates a large empire that is currently in conflict with the Skarrons.”

“The Skarrons are respectful of our borders,” the Sess’nat said from its pool of water imbedded into the floor where its turtle-like mass floated, “but unworthy of our attention. What they and others do beyond the frontier is their own concern, but tolerate interferement within our domain we cannot. The attack on us has sealed these Li’vorkrachnika’s fate, but even had they not, their expansion into this sector could not be allowed. We have been monitoring reports of migrations from beyond the frontier fleeing conquest, and though small that they are, they are numerous. If it is these attackers that they are running from then we must not underestimate the potential threat for mild disruption of the sector, even if they are not a significant threat to us.”

“Our intelligence suggests a devouring ideology. They spread until there is nowhere left to spread. They are a plague that is testing our border with this attack in order to ascertain strength. We know a ship with a message was sent back prior to the death of the Zen’zat, and that getting that message out was their primary concern.”

“Why attack if they recognized the threat we posed to them?” the Oso’lon asked.

“Our sources could not identify the cause, but standard practice is to treat such expeditionary teams as being expendable. Perhaps they felt they had nothing to lose if we were going to purge them from the planet anyway.”

“You underestimated them,” the Brat’mar said in a displeased tone, though not so much as to start a cascade of energy across its two massive horns as was typical for the race when they got truly angry, “and have given them a victory against us. No amount of bloodshed will undo that fact.”

“Are you suggesting that we do not act?” the Hjar’at asked.

“I am suggesting that the Lir’nen not have sole priority in this. It was the Zen’zat who suffered a loss of personnel, so let them lead the eradication force. The Lir’nen can have plenty of targets on which to practice their badly neglected skills, but their judgement has already cost us a defeat. We will not suffer a second one.”

“Rajamal?” the Hjar’at asked, referencing a specific Zen’zat that was currently in the sector, but well known across this quarter of the empire.

“I concur with that,” the I’rar’et noted before the displeased Lir’nen counselor could speak.

“You make a valid point,” the Oso’lon conceded. “The Lir’nen shall still have priority in volume, but we will have the Zen’zat be the architect of our vengeance. The question remains as to the number of slots in the invasion force.”

“We stand ready to assist,” the Hjar’at offered, “if needed. Though we would recommend this level of a threat be dealt with by those that could benefit more from the combat experience.”

“Your recommendation?”

“5 slots in addition to the Lir’nen. If the suggested size of this empire is accurate, using any less will create unnecessary delay.”

“We request a slot,” the tiny Ari’tat said from its oversized pedestal that was still far smaller than those of the larger races. “We have the largest Zen’zat force in the sector and are willing to make a significant portion of it available to Rajamal if he is selected. If not, we will still assist under our own guidance.”

“Is that a rebuke?” the Oso’lon asked.

“A Zen’zat not affiliated with a race in this region is preferable. If one is to come from the Lir’nen, as I’m sure they will soon suggest, I question the wisdom inherent in that choice.”

“They struck at an outpost,” the Lir’nen counselor stated with controlled, but obvious contempt for the tiny wisp of a V’kit’no’sat that he could break with a single step if he wished, “not a colony. We are not incompetent in our defense. And they never touched a single one of our buildings in the outpost. It was an unexpected counterattack in the field with naval bombardment that the Zen’zat could have avoided had it been conventional. Instead they chose to destroy their own troops in the process to insure that the Zen’zat where present in the collision corridor.”

“A sound piece of strategy,” the Hjar’at said, torn between loyalty to his empire and the military skill of the enemy, “for such an inferior race.”

“Before you come to blows, let me make one thing painfully clear,” the Qua’cho said, with its vertical fin rising well above the quadruped’s head. “We can establish outposts with little defense because of the threat of retaliation against anyone who dare strikes us. Whether by ignorance or arrogance, the Li’vorkrachnika did not heed this threat. They attacked, and successfully so. Even if no one outside the V’kit’no’sat learns of this, the precedent it implies is disturbing. I was not aware that we have weakened, so can anyone speculate as to the cause of this audacity?”

“It may well be ignorance if they are expanding from a rimward powerbase,” the Oso’lon said with a nod of respect. “But our reaction to it must be one that others also in ignorance can learn from. Our borders have not been tested in quite some time, and perhaps the short lived races that surround us need another lesson as to our power. If this Li’vorkrachnika empire is as large as estimated, then they shall make for a sizeable example. 7 slots will be permitted, one to the Lir’nen and one to the Zen’zat to fill as they wish…though the Lir’nen will receive at minimum twice the number of systems to conquer as any other race.”

“How fast can they spread?” the Sess’nat asked the witness.

“Remarkably so.”

“Is there a danger of them relocating before we can exterminate them all?”

“I believe so. As one world falls, another will be established. This is their mindset. They are both fighters and builders, with one often the counterbalance to the other.”

“Then this could be a very long endeavor,” the Hjar’at warned. “Only those fully committed to it should be selected.”

“What will be done with the purged worlds?” the Brat’mar asked. “No territorial expansion has been sanctioned, and if these vermin spread quickly it is possible that they could return to previous worlds if some measure is not in place to prevent them from doing so.”

“Do you honestly believe they will try to colonize behind our lines?” the Lir’nen asked with disgust.

“They colonized a world you had a presence on,” he reminded him. “They clearly have no respect for dominion, and if they value their lives so little they could keep our forces spread out on constant patrols. Someone must take the worlds we are cleansing.”

“That is something for the regional capitol to discuss,” the Oso’lon deferred, “but we have many tenants that could fill that void for us. Do not concern yourselves with it.”

“A petition should be sent requesting some territorial additions be allowed, even if only a single world for each slot,” the Ari’tat suggested.

“Feel free to submit one then,” the Sess’nat countered.

“It will be turned down,” the Lir’nen scoffed. “As usual.”

“Is it not time to return to our former borders?” the tiny one pressed. “Why we have not done so already is a mystery to me.”

“To me as well,” the Oso’lon stated neutrally, “but there are always reasons we are not privy to. When it is to our advantage to do so, we will. You should have no doubt of that.”

“I doubt the extent to which our threat list denotes, for I do not see the cause for such restriction now that the Igren have been removed.”

“He makes a valid point,” the Hjar’at conceded. “Even if it is fueled by greed.”

“Our domain lies within this sector alone,” the Oso’lon reminded them. “We may operate outside it, but we cannot colonize beyond our borders. Until protocol changes that is the parameter we have to function within. If we need denizens to fill the purged worlds they will have to be procured from outside the V’kit’no’sat. Not from within.”

“Will these Skarrons fill the void?”

“Too unreliable,” the Sess’nat decreed with finality. “We require those that we have experience with, and to that point, we should procure them early to assist with scouting if adequate maps cannot be confiscated from the worlds we know to exist…and even then if the Li’vorkrachnika can spread to new worlds with such mentioned ease.”

“Those we can procure locally,” the I’rar’et said, “but volume wise for colonization will require civilizations larger than within our boundaries, and they will not move quickly. Recruiting locals for the first wave would be preferred, then let Nooron set up the rest.”

“I will make that recommendation to them,” the Oso’lon said, referencing the regional capitol. “But we should secure candidates in expectation of their approval.”

“We will see to that,” the Brat’mar volunteered.

“Where will the additional Zen’zat be procured from,” the Voro’nam asked.

The Oso’lon looked to the tiny biped in the control station.

“Give the attack details time to spread and I can promise you an unlimited number of volunteers from across the empire. We will not be lacking in numbers.”

“And you wish more combat,” the Hjar’at added.

“We always wish more combat,” Garras said, making no apology for it.

“And you shall have it with our blessing, but what of ships? There are not many Zen’zat-designated vessels.”

“Races not slotted will offer them. After all, an attack against any V’kit’no’sat is an attack against us all.”

“So it is,” the Oso’lon agreed. “The Zen’zat slot will be filled by volunteers, but their leadership will not be in question.”

“So long as one with sufficient skill is acquired,” the I’rar’et amended.

“Rajamal will come unless ordered otherwise,” Garras promised. “And there will be no shortage of peer volunteers should he not. I take this personally, as will they once they learn of it.”

“What is the speed of their ships?” the Oso’lon asked the witness.

“Slow. They utilize jumpships to carry their traditional vessels, but the one with the message left before a jumpship arrived. This was seen as an act of desperation, so it is probable that the Li’vorkrachnika will not know what has transpired on Ennsop for some time.”

“Aerial power?” the I’rar’et asked.

“They did not build any, but within their technological acumen was the designs for small, agile, poorly defended craft that they could build in great numbers. They do not seek individual combat, but work in large groups to wear down superior opponents through attrition.”

“How large?”

“As many as they can produce. Memories retrieved from two indicated that they could blot out the sun from the sky.”

“Their primary mode of attack?”

“They have none. They adapt to their opponents, and even have special biological variants for specific tasks. Their expeditionary forces don’t use more than the basic template until their colonies grow large enough to require them or until a special situation arises. The Li’vorkrachnika operate off genetic memory as much as they do technological organization, which is why there are massive intelligence gaps that we have to overcome.”

“You killed them too quickly,” the Hjar’at accused the Lir’nen.

“No. Those that we temporarily spared did not have much information that was relevant.”

“You do not know if it is relevant until you search through it,” the Ari’tat reprimanded.

“When I speak of genetic knowledge I do not refer to a normal amount. The Li’vorkrachnika are birthed with full capability. There is no learning apparatus. Everything needed to function comes from it, then additional knowledge is added as their varying stations require. As we are destroying them we can detail it if you wish, but pertinent information was scanned for and little was to be found. They compartmentalize to avoid detection.”

“Is that speculation or also a genetic memory?” the Hjar’at asked.

“Speculation, but the structure they have established lends to nothing else. Their personnel and equipment are expendable, and their information and communication systems are deliberately limited, I believe, to accommodate this methodology.”

“Then a world of sufficient size should be targeted first in order to obtain more data,” the Ari’tat suggested. “If the Lir’nen don’t believe themselves up to the task, we volunteer.”

“You have not been assigned a slot in the eradication force,” the Lir’nen countered.

“Who shall we send then?” he asked all those assembled, most of whom had not deigned to speak. Not all races within the V’kit’no’sat held worlds within this sector, but many did.

“Am I to assume the I’rar’et wish to be included?” the Hjar’at guessed.

“I doubt we will find a worthy opponent, but there is some challenge when facing significant numbers of primitives. Yes, we will take one of the slots, for practice sake.”

“The Brat’mar?”

“There is no need for us to go, unless others fail.”

The Hjar’at scanned the representatives present with his mind, getting a feeling for those that wanted to fight. All would if needed, for there were no holdouts, but it seemed that the lesser races were more eager here and with the I’rar’et already being involved then there was no need for another major faction…and that was the sense he got from the others.

“I recommend the Ari’tat and Sli’nar.”

“And the Voro’nam,” the Oso’lon added in agreement.

“Also the Nic’bar,” the Brat’mar chimed in, naming the final member of the eradication force.

“Is there any argument against those chosen?” the Oso’lon asked, but there was none. Others wanted to be included, but they couldn’t make a case as to why they should take precedence.

“Then we are concluded. The Li’vorkrachnika will be destroyed, but make no mistake that there can be no errors made. They may be primitive, but they have already succeeded in bleeding us. They will die for that, but do not allow another loss to occur no matter what we find waiting for us. There is rightful shame on the part of the Lir’nen, but not more than this having occurred in their territory. They were not at fault, as was stated earlier, for the threat of reprisal has been our defense on many lightly defended worlds. This has been the spoil of past victories, and now must be earned again through the example you are about to enact. Anything less than flawless victories is unacceptable and will incur a loss of territory in this sector.”

“Time is also a concern,” the Brat’mar added. “If we cannot quickly defeat this opponent, we will also appear weak. A stalled campaign is a loss for us.”

“You will have a limited amount of time,” the Hjar’at continued. “Fail to accomplish the benchmarks to be set down and we will get involved. Do not make us do so. I fear this enemy may lure you into a false sense of security. Do not underestimate them, nor the effect that any resistance they pose to us will have on those watching. This must not be a war. It must be methodical deletion. If you cannot do that without assistance there will be additional repercussions from beyond this sector.”

“Contact Rajamal,” the Oso’lon ordered, “and make the request.”

4

March 30, 3598

Tham’ron System (V’kit’no’sat Sector Capitol)

Weech

A Sico’don-class interstellar transport landed its 1400 meter long mass on the side of one of the many planetary defense stations on Weech, setting down on the third tier of the pyramid and opening a portal on the side whose material flowed down beneath and reformed into geometric stairs. A single, tiny individual dropped down those stairs gracefully, with Garras standing well away near the vertical wall that held the gate through the thick green/black armor covering the facility. The Zen’zat held position as the Sico’don lifted off again and Rajamal walked towards him.

“Thank you for agreeing to take on this mission,” the local host said when the legend came within a few meters, heading not for his fellow Zen’zat but for the entry gate, intent on getting to work rather than deigning to social protocols that some of the V’kit’no’sat races dawdled in and Zen’zat abhorred. Garras fell into step slightly ahead of him so to lead the way, but maintained a respectful shoulder to shoulder stance so they could see one another with their eyes and not have to rely on their Pefbar. “Your presence is most welcome.”

“I assume some level of bickering is occurring?”

“As usual, but the communal ire is high enough to have negated it somewhat. There are many worlds to be destroyed and the I’rar’et’s participation has quelled most demands, though the Lir’nen are still claiming priority and have been granted double the assaults of any other race.”

“But they were not granted choice of targets?”

“No. That is being left to the Zen’zat, and to you.”

“Has there been any new data recovered?”

“One of our ships managed to capture and interrogate the crew of a Li’vorkrachnika jumpship. Oddly, they killed themselves rather than submit to imprisonment.”

“They were revived?”

“As needed. From them and the ship’s computer we have determined a larger portion of their local geography, but all indications still point to them having a very large expanse of territory that is continuously in flux. Both with expeditionary acquisitions and losses to the Skarrons.”

“Tell me of these Skarrons,” Rajamal said as they hit an interior ramp and headed downward.

“Moderate size, quadruped, four arms, no head, sturdy and aggressive. They’ve incorporated two smaller races into their empire as servants, one for technical duties and the other for light infantry. They make use of large mechanical walkers, some that can surpass the mass of starships. The Li’vorkrachnika were winning a slow war against them until they decided to counterstrike en mass. Now they are obliterating them in every system they come across.”

“Sheer numbers or a change in strategy?”

“I’m told the losses are egregious, but the end result is what they want.”

“Their ultimate goal?”

“Eradication.”

“Then we will not have to destroy all their systems.”

“We still don’t know how many for certain there are, nor where their primaries lie. Information control seems to be in effect within the Li’vorkrachnika ranks. Even their base computer programming is deliberately sparse.”

“How do they function then on such a wide scale? Factions? Bloodlines?”

“There does appear to be a ruling bloodline that stays anonymously behind a wall of safety, but for operational duties they supplement technology with an extensive amount of genetic memory. It also allows them to reproduce full adults within a matter of weeks.”

“Combat capable?”

“Yes, though their fighting abilities are minimal.”

“I do not expect the galaxy to ever be on our level,” Rajamal lightly corrected him. “But if they have grown their empire to such a large size then they must be more than competent.”

“Their methods appear inadequate, but as you say, their results speak for themselves.”

“What of the second Zen’zat?”

“His fate is in his own hands now. He must train his way out of the damage and has been removed from the ranks until such a time that he succeeds in doing so.”

Rajamal stopped walking down the ramp, causing a passing Voro’nam to almost trip on him, but the bigger V’kit’no’sat jumped to the side at the last moment to avoid hurting the little Zen’zat, though Rajamal didn’t even bother to look at him.

“That can be a fate worse than death. How did his injuries occur?”

“He was in the impact zone when their ship was deliberately crashed into the infantry battle.”

“Underneath or beside it?”

“Beside, but close enough to be hit by the blast and debris.”

“Did it penetrate his helmet?”

“No, but he bled out and wasn’t recovered until staggering amounts of mental decay occurred. He was fortunate to have survived at all.”

“I doubt he feels so now. Can he speak?”

“Not much, but he understands his current situation and what must be done.”

Rajamal closed his eyes for a moment before walking on, wishing his fellow Zen’zat as much luck as the galaxy could bestow upon him…but if he could recover then the grinding ordeal he must now pass through would be worth it when he returned to the Zen’zat ranks. If he did not, then events would take their course. The Zen’zat would not let one of their own suffer without cause.

“Are these Li’vorkrachnika aware of their impending doom?”

“We suspect not, though a messenger was sent. It was intercepted mid jump and destroyed.”

“But not captured?”

“It was traveling too slow to match. It was not one of their jumpships.”

“Then we need to make them aware of why they are about to die, and through them others will learn as well and take heed not to encroach on our worlds again.”

“The council does not wish to advertise the death of a Zen’zat for fear of it emboldening others.”

“No. We will not hide from this. They struck a blow at us and succeeded. Let the galaxy know, and let them see what that small victory will cost the Li’vorkrachnika. I need pertinent data packaged for release within the day.”

“I will have to clear that with the council.”

“I am in command now, and until this campaign is complete you work for me. As do all the Zen’zat and races contributing troops. Get the information assembled personally, then I will amend what is needed. Do not leave anything out.”

“There may be some backlash from that, but I will do as you request.”

“See to it now. I know my way.”

“As you wish,” Garras said, reversing direction on the long ramp and heading up it at a run to get to the Zen’zat level near the top of the pyramid while Rajamal continued down to the lower levels. He eventually branched off on number 16 and crossed to the long bar of a chamber that ran the entire width of the defense station at ground level with openings on either end to admit the I’rar’et and allow them to fly through the narrow confines at speed.

He accessed the Wind Hall via smaller support infrastructure that lined both sides of it for their Zen’zat to use and climbed up to one of the top perches where half a dozen of the flyers were working in simulation nooks with a variety of holograms thrown up around them. One of them walked over to him on its short, stubby hind legs with its wings tucked in along its sides, which still left it taller than him.

“I am Rajamal,” he stated simply as a few other Zen’zat assistants were visible moving in and out of tiny doorways in the walls. “Where is Ha’chet?”

“You are smaller than I expected,” another I’rar’et said, turning away from a short perch and walking over next to the other of its kin and looking down on the Zen’zat, “for one with your reputation.”

“Speed has its advantages. You are the I’rar’et commander?”

“For the duration of this campaign, yes. I estimate 19 days before our forces will be assembled, though I have not been able to determine an estimate on supplies. They are being procured outside of military channels.”

“19 is sufficient. What I want to know is why you’ve volunteered.”

“I was assigned.”

“The I’rar’et,” Rajamal clarified.

“I have been studying our foe, and this is not so small a mission as others might have suggested. There will be a challenge here.”

“How do you figure?”

“Speed of conquest.”

“Ah,” the Zen’zat said, understanding their angle now.

“While the others may be effective enough, we anticipate they will be inefficient. Assuming they cannot take worlds quickly enough, we will provide you with alternatives to alleviate that problem.”

“Making the Lir’nen earn their priority slot?”

“Failure should not be rewarded.”

“No, it shouldn’t. But they should be allowed an opportunity to right themselves. If they do not, then I will not hold back the campaign while they take their time.”

“We thought not.”

“And?”

“The speed of the Li’vorkrachnika’s growth is concerning. If we do not move quickly enough they could replace every world we take and put this eradication in perpetual limbo without us suffering a single loss. I do not think the others understand this, and we are here to make sure the job gets done properly.”

“What do you have for me?”

“Six full Klaedons and a partial seventh made up of naval assets only.”

“You’re expecting significant ground combat?”

“We will seek it out if it doesn’t present itself. How we destroy a world is irrelevant so long as it occurs in a timely manner.”

“Orbital bombardment is usually the quickest way.”

“The Li’vorkrachnika need to be eliminated, but we wish to offer our younger troops combat that does not involve the Hadarak.”

“So this is a training mission for you?”

“In part. The Klaedons are young save for the 7th. It is made up of veteran crews.”

“And what of occupational forces?”

“We were told they would be arranged from races outside the V’kit’no’sat, but no timetable has been established.”

“We will need temporaries, for I am not going to wait until arrangements can be made.”

“Survey teams are going to be dispatched independently to study their remains. Those will have escorts sufficient to hold the first few worlds taken. If the Brat’mar have not made accommodations by that time, then you will have to deal with them.”

“Violently?”

“That would be preferred, but how you deal with them is your prerogative. We will do our part in this campaign, and accept your leadership of it, but there are private motivations in play.”

“Acceptable so long as they do not hamper my purpose here.”

“They will not. May I ask a question of another matter?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel?”

“To what do you refer?”

“The Rit’ko’sor. How did it feel killing so many on their homeworld?”

Rajamal stiffened, and his dislike for the question was plain on his face for both I’rar’et standing before him to see.

“It was an abomination…but one that was necessary. They forced it upon us, but I was not proud to do it. They were meant to be one of us, and killing your brothers is abhorrent no matter what the situation.”

“When they rebelled they were no longer V’kit’no’sat.”

“Yes they were,” he said, and the reactions of all the I’rar’et in the chamber and those secretly watching elsewhere was one of treason. “Do not let yourselves be deluded otherwise. They chose to rebel, but that did not end our blood ties. We were forced to do something that should never have occurred, and I will not let you or anyone else rewrite the history concerning that. Our own struck at us, and in response we destroyed them en mass. A reconciliation should have been attempted, but it was not my decision to make. I carried out the task given to me, but I will tell you unabashedly that the decision to fight a total war against the Rit’ko’sor was due to the fact that they successfully destroyed so much of the empire in their first wave of attacks. It was shame that spurred the call for their annihilation, not wisdom. They wronged us, but then we also wronged them. I am not proud of that.”

“Yet it is what has gained you great renown.”

“I am a warrior. When told to fight, I fight. But I hold nothing beside contempt for those that forced me to fight those I had sworn to die protecting previously. It is a stain on the empire still.”

“And do you seek less than total warfare with our current foe?”

“They are not blood. They are not V’kit’no’sat. And they have decided their own fate. Do not equate them to the Rit’ko’sor.”

“You served them previously?”

“I did.”

“And that was why you were so effective in killing them?”

“So some say.”

“And what do you say?”

“I am skilled, and that skill has afforded me command of this campaign. There will be no further questions concerning the Rit’ko’sor or anything other than the matter at hand until our work is completed. Understood?”

“Your commitment to duty is noted, Zen’zat. We stand ready for our invasion corridor when you are capable of providing it.”

“Show me the most current map we have.”

A few mental commands to the equipment brought up a huge starmap that spanned half the room/nook and was easily visible from the Wind Hall. Rajamal walked into it as he studied the various points with information tags attached, then pointed at one in particular.

“This is the largest identified?”

“Thus far, yes.”

“Then your first task is to take it…intact. I want data retrieval as the highest priority. You may launched immediately.”

Ha’chet twitched his long neck, shaking his angled beak in a noticeable gesture of surprise.

“The Lir’nen were given priority. Should they not make the first strike?”

“I need information. This is reconnaissance. I trust you will not destroy that which I require in the process?”

“What you require is a bigger map to plan from before you divvy up corridors?”

“If you want to think of it that way, yes.”

“And how do you think of it?”

“I am in command and the divvying up of targets appropriately is my concern, not yours. See to your own assignments and I will give priority in the form I design.”

“While handling the backlash if others’ expectations are not met?”

“The only backlashes will be my own if anyone under my command does not acquit their duty. I am not answerable to your Sector Council, nor do I care about your trivial internal contests. My task is to eradicate the Li’vorkrachnika and anyone who hinders that will have to deal with me personally no matter what their station is.”

“I have heard that you’ve achieved Jumat. Is that correct?”

Rajamal raised a hand that subsequently blurred with invisible energy coursing around it.

“It befits your station, Zen’zat. So long as you hold no bias and acquit your duties, you will receive no interference from us.”

“Then take your young troops and get them some experience in capture. There will be plenty of time for slaughter later. I need information, because in its ignorance the Sector Council has decreed the destruction of a civilization that we know very little about, and that means we do not have force expectations or a timetable to work off of. I need that problem eliminated and you are the most reliable of the six to see to it happening without my direct oversight.”

“Why not assign your Zen’zat?”

“They will not be assembled so quickly. Some are coming from the other side of the galaxy and it will take time for them and their supply lines to form. Part of which is supposed to be originating from you.”

“I personally have no control over that. You will have to deal with the Council if they do not deliver.”

“I need to know how many supplies to demand, and in order to do that I need to know how many planets we have to take and how well defended they are.”

“Logical. Though in the process you also snub the Lir’nen. Is that intentional?”

“They are not your equal and are attempting to use this situation to supersede you. If they wish to do so they will have an opportunity to accomplish it in the field. They will not accomplish it through negotiations.”

“Will we be deployed to the same systems?”

“Unlikely. But people will be keeping score and I will be supplying the numbers for that so there is no matter of opinion required.”

“You seek to control their greed by streamlining it into a proper contest.”

“An unofficial one, but those who meet my mission requirements properly and quickly will be so noted.”

“And your Zen’zat?”

“They will school you in how warfare is meant to be conducted.”

The I’rar’et in the nook all hissed in a way that was a laugh for them, but Rajamal had not been joking.

“At the moment the Li’vorkrachnika have no heavy assets. So where do you believe your advantage will come from?” he asked Ha’chet.

The I’rar’et’s head tilted to the side quizzically, but also in a nod of respect.

“You have a point there, Zen’zat. If speed of conquest is the measuring stick for this campaign, then our obvious strengths may not be required. I think we shall find the coming years most interesting. Are there any other notable Zen’zat joining you?”

“Most who do not currently have other assignments.”

“Most? Such as who?”

“Daemon, Proarch, and Teor have already contacted me, and I assume other responses will arrive shortly,” he said, referencing Zen’zat that were equal to or higher ranked than him.

“But you are the one who has been given command.”

“They are not here to supplant me. They are here to fight.”

“Why?”

“Because we take the death of any Zen’zat seriously. And these vermin are not small in number.”

“Is that not a waste of your collective skills?”

“Do you believe you are the only ones who desire combat for training purposes?” Rajamal said with a mild tone of disappointment. “The Zen’zat are coming and filling the slot we have been given, and if you wish to outperform us in the invasion you will be given fair opportunity to do so…and I am giving you the first strike. So make it happen without further discussion.”

“You are the eradication commander, Rajamal. We will carry out your assignment with all due haste.”

“Feel free to impress me,” he said, turning around and heading for the Zen’zat passages that would take him back to the main access ways, and then from there to the military commanders for those of the other 5 races involved that had already arrived here. Rajamal was not going to waste time while troops assembled. He had tasks that needed done now, and anyone that thought this was going to be a lazily executed campaign was going to learn otherwise today.

And he was going to keep score, both as a means of suppressing the latitude the races under his command might try to exercise on their own volition, and because it was not often that Zen’zat were equitted a campaign slot of their own. They were mad about the fate of the two Zen’zat and wanted vengeance, but they also wanted the opportunity to expose some of the inadequacies within the empire and the best way to do that was to shame the ‘superior’ races by outperforming them.

And that’s why he was going to make sure the ‘score’ was precisely measured and made public across the galaxy. There would be no hiding here, and anyone who did not perform up to their reputation was going to be outed.

And with many of the elite Zen’zat within the galaxy coming here, they were going to set an extremely hard benchmark to match.

5

June 4, 3598

Ittick System (Li’vorkrachnika territory)

Stellar Orbit

The I’rar’et First Column of Klaedon 187 came out of its jump into orbit around a giant white star in a closely packed formation, pinpoint dropping where they wanted with only a few kilometers between the small Ti’mat escorts that surrounded four Na’shor battleships. All the V’kit’no’sat races utilized the same military structure, but customized each of their vessel designs as they wished. The I’rar’et shaped theirs in long ‘T’s to give them some internal stretches where they could fly and not be forced to walk everywhere inside their ships, which to the avians was borderline tormentation.

The Ti’mat were the smallest vessels that the I’rar’et used for warships, though there were more diminutive vessels suited to the Zen’zat and Ari’tat. The I’rar’et did not believe in constructing anything that they themselves could not crew, thus nothing smaller than the 4 mile long/wide Ti’mat was constructed. In contrast, the Na’shor battleships were considerably larger at 26 miles long/wide and carried their version of starfighters that were only used in special circumstances…for they were basically an oversized armored suit that the I’rar’et would wear so they could fly through space.

To them it was uncomfortable, given the lack of aerodynamics to utilize that created a lingering inability to maneuver as sharply as they liked, but being confined inside a warship was far worse and the K’lak’tal combat suits were their choice of preference when hunting inferior ships. That was why all four Na’shor released waves of K’lak’tal as soon as they saw a guardian fleet of Li’vorkrachnika ships stationed in orbit around the star and headed for them.

It wasn’t a large number, barely 1200 strong, but there were far more registering in position over the main planet and scattered groups of others spread out across the four worlds showing enemy inhabitation. Being patient, the I’rar’et held their fleet in formation as the 44 vessels waited and secured the jumppoint while the K’lak’tal rushed off to make the first official kills in this campaign.

With their high powered gravity drives, low mass, and a special auxiliary magnetic drive that allowed them a touch more acrobatics in the presence of a planetary or stellar magnetic field, the winged combat suits flew in a series of elongated lines towards the approaching ships, then fanned out into individual braking runs to match the system defenders’ speed. They too slowed down, but it was the K’lak’tal that had the choice of engagement points for they were by far the most superior when it came to navigation. They came out of their decel jumps right on top of individual ships and began peppering them with green Dre’mo’don strikes that hammered their shields hard, but did not penetrate.

The Li’vorkrachnika returned fire, but the specialized deflecting shields configured specifically to counter the enemy technology bounced off most of the energy weapons hitting them as they stuck close to their target ships and continued firing their Dre’mo’dons until they finally popped the shields and hit the hull…at which point the K’lak’tal landed on the ships and began firing away at pointblank range.

They doubled and tripled up against most ships to expedite the process, with them fleeing whenever too many other vessels began to fire on them and their targets, causing almost as much damage as they were as the I’rar’et hopped from one target to another and got the Li’vorkrachnika to keep shooting each other in a vain attempt to knock them down. Given how small the K’lak’tal were it was possible for them to succeed, but the they had maneuverability options that allowed them to run off out of firing range when their shields dropped too low.

It was risky for them to engage this many Li’vorkrachnika vessels on their own, but it was also a testament to their skill and audacity. Should even one be destroyed they would bear great shame in it, but if they did not their dominance would be even further secured with this display of superiority. I’rar’et had a reputation for being shrewd risk takers, and no one other than Zen’zat piloted single occupant warships within the V’kit’no’sat. That was something they took great pride in, and it was fitting that they were tearing apart the enemy in their first engagement without even having to involve a single Ti’mat.

After the stellar patrol was annihilated, the K’lak’tal returned to their roosts in the Na’shor while the fleet continued to wait and hold the jumppoint as Li’vorkrachnika vessels began to assemble en mass around the primary planet, either as a staging point to redirect to the star or to wait for the attackers to come to them.

Before that could happen additional ships began to arrive carrying the ground assault troops that would be needed to take this world and search its contents in order to learn about this race that was slated for eradication. When those massive Dol’vaw cargo/habitat/industrial ships arrived with a final count of 18 they formed up behind a wedge of protective warships and the I’rar’et fleet jumped to the main planet…right in front of the assembling ships.

The K’lak’tal did not emerge from the Na’shor, but Var’ko beams did. Six from each, with the needle-like red streaks punching through shields on contact and boring very tiny holes all the way through the Li’vorkrachnika ships. Conscious of what was behind them when firing, the I’rar’et gunners continued to pour energy through those persistent lances as they adjusted their firing line ever so slightly…

It looked like a giant string had been moved, and what little damage a pinprick of hole all the way through did was turned into a killing blow as the Li’vorkrachnika ships were literally cut in half. There were no massive explosions accompanying it. A bit of depressurization here and there, perhaps an overload in an adjacent compartment that would puff outward, but for all the ‘bang’ one would expect from such a ship-killing blow the V’kit’no’sat weapon was not very flamboyant. It simply bisected a ship…then cut back across it several times to increase the number of pieces that were then left floating, often with some weaponry intact, but any shots from the dying fragments were ignored as the Na’shor moved on to other targets.

The Ti’mat however did strike at those remaining pieces, knocking out any that remained an active threat and allowing the others to wither away on their own merits. The smaller vessels did not carry Var’ko, but rather relied heavily on short range Uit carlo streamers. An invisible conduit was extended from the ships, out through which a cloying carlo energy matrix was shunted directly into the ship fragments. When that happened the fireworks erupted, literally, as the matter of the targets was vaporized into quickly expanding nebulas that dirtied up the battlefield in subsequent flowers of debris, but not so much that the I’rar’et sensors couldn’t see through the mess…and it did nothing to dull the accuracy or power of the Var’ko as they reached out and sliced up ship after ship while the Na’shor shields casually lapped up the pathetic energy weapons the Li’vorkrachnika employed. Though to their credit, at least they’d made it past plasma cannons that many in the galaxy still relied on.

Oddly the Li’vorkrachnika didn’t run, which frustrated the K’lak’tal pilots that wanted to engage again. Instead the defenders held their ground and made it easy for the I’rar’et to destroy them. Suicide attempts at ramming a Ti’mat were easily blocked by cushioning shields, catching the incoming ships and holding them in place briefly as they were met with a Uit that ate through their shields in less than a second, then reduced the attacker into the tiny fragments they had intended on becoming…only without taking the recently identified V’kit’no’sat ship along with them.

The battle was fierce, but completely one sided. It ended with the remaining Li’vorkrachnika ships fighting to their quick deaths then the I’rar’et fleet moving into bombardment range of the planet’s surface. The Ti’mat held silent as escorts while the four Na’shor moved within the edge of their firing range, finding that the planetary defense systems could not target them at that distance. Rather than venturing in closer to find out that range, they opened fire with the pinprick beams that created huge distortion cascades on the thick atmospheric defense shields as they absorbed the massive amounts of energy that the constant beams poured forth.

Or almost constant. They couldn’t keep them firing continuously and after their maximum 37 second duration they had to suffer through a 19 second recharge, but with 6 per ship and four ships in total they maintained constant fire on one particular section of shields that were breached within 3 minutes.

It wasn’t a total collapse, but rather a spot overload that allowed the beam through momentarily until surrounding energy refilled the gap, but the bit that did get through hit a shield generator and was able to tear an 18 meter gash through it laterally before the moving beam was caught again.

That generator went down, weakening the umbrella overhead as more gaps were opened up and the other nearby generators were disabled. Soon what remained from more distant generators was so weak that the entire regional shield failed, at which point the Dol’vaw began dispersing landing craft that followed the second release of the K’lak’tal who dove towards the open sections of surface at such a rate that they were hard to target by the planetary defense guns that were quickly going extinct directly below them. The orbital bombardment didn’t cease as they descended, with the warships cleaning up the perimeter of the landing zone to reduce the amount of incoming weaponsfire against the landing craft.

When the bombardment eventually fell silent the rest of the Li’vorkrachnika guns had not, for those sitting beneath intact adjacent shields were tipping over and firing almost laterally as much as they were able, but the few shots that hit the descending transports were absorbed. The shorter range defenses below that were far more numerous were drawn out by the K’lak’tal who began swooping down to building level and flying through the Li’vorkrachnika buildings and targeting them at close range, aggressively plucking the defenses enough to allow the first transports to land uncontested.

Out of those came more I’rar’et in much less bulky armor, but they were also protected by energy shields and carried smaller weapons more befitting their agile accoutrements. They surfed the air with glee, targeting Li’vorkrachnika ground troops, civilians, and pretty much anything that moved or shot at them as they secured an expanding circle around the LZ as armies of Zen’zat ran out onto the ground and began to sweep the streets and nearby buildings.

They secured the area then sent teams off to specific coordinates on the planet based on orbital scans. Some were to take down the other shield generators and planetary defense guns, but others were headed for what were suspected to be communications and data hubs. They didn’t want the Li’vorkrachnika deleting data before they could get to it, for this invasion was first and foremost about information gathering. The extermination of the system’s population would come easy enough after the fact, but the challenge here and now was to secure that which could be destroyed before they got to it.

Included in that last caveat was the different types of Li’vorkrachnika that they had learned about in their previous encounters. Stealth teams of Zen’zat were flown out on equally stealthed I’rar’et to be dropped in locations where different mental signatures were detected, then they would track them down with all haste so they could be captured and interrogated for both their experiential knowledge and their genetic memories.

But throughout this invasion they could not find the strategic leader model that they suspected of being here, given the size and importance of the world. Some had seen him previously, but he moved like a ghost among them and would never be found on the planet, dead or alive, nor on any of the others in the system. Either he wasn’t here at the time of the invasion or he was hiding out ahead of the extermination teams that gradually moved through city after city, deliberately leaving the structures intact as they eliminated their occupants. Normally all of it would have been obliterated from orbit, but if this was to be a proper intelligence retrieval operation then the entire planet should be preserved for continuous study…so that they didn’t have to go to such delicate measures anywhere else.

To that end, some of the Li’vorkrachnika population was captured and contained, but it quickly became apparent that they would not hold to captivity and reviving those that killed themselves became such a chore that the I’rar’et instead decided to spare a small section of the planet that they placed a blockade around to insure that none got out, but did not attack or interfere in any obvious way to those inside save for killing them when they assaulted the perimeter.

But unlike the Li’vorkrachnika defense fleet, they did not all run to their quick deaths. They held onto the city and used it, rebuilding, expanding, and probing against the impossible opponent that surrounded them…sparing the I’rar’et from going to the frustrating lengths of preserving a limited number of individuals in closely monitored cells.

While it initially appeared as an unfinished assault to Rajamal when he later arrived, the Zen’zat quickly realized what an inspiration the tactic had been. He no longer had to rely on reports of the enemy to learn of them, which had been quite detailed and thorough, for now he could slip past the blockade along with other research teams and monitor their active minds, raiding whatever information they desired while other teams scoured the planet gathering and cataloging the technological assets the Li’vorkrachnika had and learning how they’d made use of them.

Such study did not happen quickly, so Rajamal focused on the pertinent areas to the upcoming assaults that he would be authorizing, paramount among them being starmaps and fleet numbers, the latter of which was not present in any form. This world only possessed knowledge of this region and nothing beyond it, though there were enough general starmaps present to give him the basic sketch of their overall empire, though the exact borders were impossible to determine.

What he found mildly surprised him, for it was larger than anyone had speculated even taking into account the noted losses by the Skarron invasion. The Li’vorkrachnika had so many worlds to draw resources from that Rajamal could partially understand their arrogance. If the Skarrons were the greatest foe known to them, then they should have believed themselves to be superior enough to take on anyone, for he was fairly sure that the Li’vorkrachnika were going to defeat the larger empire due simply to the density of their conquests and the way they made use of their fleets.

Nothing was critical, everything could be sacrificed if the need existed and rebuilt later. On top of that, their aggressive expansion policy gave them new worlds to replace those being lost, meaning that the defeats they were taking were little more than inconveniences if they could stall for time. They could very well bleed the Skarrons dry and then outbuild them in the aftermath and secure an unsuspected victory, and Rajamal found he had a mote of respect for them and their methods. They were harsh and uncompromising, but they had mistakenly crossed a foe so superior to them they probably didn’t even comprehend what they were doing at the time.

Had they not succeeded in killing the Zen’zat they might have lived through the reprisal. It was strange that they should be punished for the failure of the V’kit’no’sat rather than rewarded. Something about that did not sit right with Rajamal, so long as he considered them to be so inferior that the V’kit’no’sat were spectators watching pets play…but if the Li’vorkrachnika were going to contend with them as equals, then there was no room for leniency.

They had attacked and scored a victory that should not have been possible, and whether or not they intended that, for a brief fleeting moment it put them on par with the V’kit’no’sat.

And it was that peerdom that had sealed their fate, for while a master could be dismissive of a pet, a rival could not be tolerated. If the Li’vorkrachnika had truly attacked them out of ignorance and scored their victory through sheer luck, well, then the universe had it in for them, because that would have been one of the largest miscarriages of merit he could imagine. He pitied them that possibility, but the board was set and this eradication was not going to be repealed.

They had struck a lethal blow, and now they must all die for that success.

If one was not able to contend with the V’kit’no’sat as equals, then they had best not try to poke the giant, for there was no gray area to maneuver within. You either stayed out of their way or fought them straight up…and if you started a fight, you had better be able to finish it.

It was clear now that the Li’vorkrachnika could not finish it. They could not even mount a defense, and if Rajamal did his job appropriately there would not be a single death of a Zen’zat nor any other V’kit’no’sat for the Li’vorkrachnika to lay claim to. Their one victory would be their sole one…and their last of all time, for soon they were going to be erased from the galaxy and relegated to the historical records that would largely be written based on the research done on this planet.

And so be it. They were not the first the V’kit’no’sat had been compelled to wipe out, nor would they be the last, but they were Rajamal’s to attend to and once he got a good feel for the geography of their empire and their military capabilities he would begin drawing up invasion corridors and handing each of the 7 factions their assignments…then dishing out more to those who proved themselves the most competent and efficient, regardless of the Sector Capitol’s wishes.

This was his campaign and he would lead it. That’s what they’d requested him for and that’s what they were going to get, whether they liked it or not.

6

January 24, 3599

Ittick System (Captured System)

Oppwu

“We have a much larger foe than expected, so I will expect more of you,” Rajamal said to the six military commanders gathered onboard his Zen’zat Na’shor in orbit of the captured Li’vorkrachnika world tasked for research and as an initial base of operations set well within enemy territory, but still on the outer edge of their overall empire. It had been suggested that they should base out of the Sector Capitol, but that made no logistical sense. It was too far away and any necessary supplies could be shipped from there to here easy enough. Making that call had been one of many decisions that he’d made that went against what the council wanted, and he hoped they’d eventually get it through their thick craniums that if he was in command, then he was in command.

“Those of you who show merit in your actions will be rewarded with more work,” he continued. “Those that do not will receive less. I know you want to make this a competition between yourselves, but your purpose here is to eliminate the Li’vorkrachnika. Do not forget that, nor your responsibility to your own troops. Lose any of them and you will be heavily penalized. I want clean assaults, and by clean I mean no casualties and no side projects. These worlds are not there for you to play with. You are to eradicate the infestation and nothing else. These worlds are beyond the sector boundaries, thus they will not become acquisitions. Attack, annihilate, and move on.”

“From what we have discovered, the Li’vorkrachnika grow their worlds along a predetermined escalation protocol. The manufacture of equipment and personnel alters with more advanced units produced on the higher level worlds, particularly a strategic specialist that is extremely rare. At the height of their hierarchy are a dynasty of leaders that rule over the others. They are live birthed, the rest are clones that serve them. The strategists are also clones, but they do not grow them to numbers that would be advantageous. Why this is we have not determined, but it is an untapped potential. Do not underestimate the cunning of the strategists or you may find yourself experiencing light losses.”

“Capture of a strategist is a secondary goal, but is not necessary for the success of the eradication. Their leaders are of no known tactical use, but their capture is also a secondary goal.”

“The Li’vorkrachnika typically use mass engagement tactics and as such have a basic ship design to match, but they also have larger specialized assault units. These should not be an issue for us with our range advantage, but do not try and close with the energy cascade field they utilize. Wait until adequate assets arrive to take it out safely. Also be prepared for multiple attempts at collision maneuvers. It is a common tactic they use when facing superior opponents and they will hurt you if you give them the opportunity.”

“As for ground ops, they will be necessary because the Li’vorkrachnika burrow underground as much as they build on top of it and we must make sure that every last one of them is destroyed. Orbital bombardment alone will destroy most, but we cannot leave any behind by accident or negligence. You will have to follow up assaults with subsurface infiltration teams. I suggest exclusive use of Zen’zat given the tighter confines, but how you proceed is up to you. Expect explosives and cave-ins. If they cannot defeat you, they will try to hurt you. In this they are genetically bred to be brave. You will find no cowardice in them.”

“The primary objective is their core worlds, of which we do not have all the locations. At present we know of six that have at least partial shipyards of massive proportion. The Li’vorkrachnika build full rings situated around a planet in which they create an impressive number of ships. What they lose in battle they expect to replace in short order, and eliminating even one of these shipyards will significantly hurt their production…but we are not targeting them initially.”

That drew odd looks from the commanders, but out of respect they remained silent and continued to listen.

“If the Li’vorkrachnika survive they win. Even if it should be one world or one ship fleeing beyond our reach, for they can regrow everything. There is not a single world that is critical to them, so we must take care to not destroy their strongholds only to push them into other areas. For this reason, we will begin boxing them in by assaulting their smallest worlds first. The ones where they are expanding in order to test borders and the strength of new enemies. To do that we will need scouts, and lots of them. At present some have been procured through allies, but we need more, lest I fear they will escape us. I am assigning the Ari’tat and Sli’nar to drop sensor buoys in all star systems for a width of 60 lightyears across the coreward border,” he said, highlighting the huge wall on the map that ran from upper galactic plane to the lower.

“If they move further in, I need to know where. Stealthed buoys only, for I do not want them to know they are being observed. I have already requisitioned them, so use what you currently have and more will replace them over the course of time. As for the location of the expansion colonies in this region, we have the system locations and procuring more in every region we take is of the highest priority. There will have to be more recon missions prior to planetary devastation, for we need these maps in order to get the most of them we can. I do not believe we can rely on scouts alone, so we must get the necessary information from the source.”

“Unfortunately the Li’vorkrachnika do not have tidy divisions, so I am sending you to specific areas that I have guestimated. The Lir’nen will go to the Bren System, retrieve the necessary data there, then destroy all between it and the sensor wall,” Rajamal said, outlining a roughly cubical area of space. “You will need to ascertain the location of the expansions in order to accomplish this, and I want to be informed the moment you. All intelligence gets shunted to me immediately, and that goes for all of you.”

“The Ari’tat will take Vocorik and push toward the Skarron border. We have no quarrel with them, and do not start one. They are not involved in this campaign, but they are helping to do the work of it nonetheless, so treat them with some respectful distance. They are keeping worlds, we are not. So if they want to pick up what you have cleansed allow them to, for they will be doing us a service in their ignorance.”

“The Nic’bar will take Hammseti and, based on the data collected there, will have a border defined by me somewhere here,” he said, mentally drawing a hazy zone across the map on the opposite side of the Li’vorkrachnika empire from the Skarrons.

“The Lir’nen will assault Volka,” he said, highlighting a system at the very top of the galaxy, “and push rimward towards Jartel, which is one of the noted core worlds. You will assault it after you have cleared to this line, but not before. How fast you get there will be determined by the density of worlds found and your skill. If you defy this order and skip ahead, you will not be assigned any further core worlds. I cannot be clearer in this. Jartel comes last.”

“May I ask why?” the Lir’nen asked.

“Hit them at the center and they will spread. Hit them on the flanks and they will concentrate. We want them together where it is more easy to kill them, not running for the farthest reaches of the galaxy in more ships than we can track. We will not show our full hand until they are closed in, and any violation of my orders will jeopardize this. Do so and you may very well forfeit your slot entirely.”

“That is not…”

“It is for me to decide,” the Zen’zat cut off the Ari’tat before he could make his full statement. “You will obey me or you will be sent home. If you are not capable or willing to do that, then pull out now to avoid the later shame, for I will not forgive any alteration from my plans. I am allowing for considerable leeway within your regions, but where I have firm boundaries you will abide by them. You may question the reasoning, but you may not question your compelled obedience.”

“I will take the Zen’zat to Arcor and push forward along the underside of the galaxy while the Voro’nam slip past the Lir’nen, laying sensor buoys behind them, and eventually attacking Kilox. Beyond that the map begins to diminish, but it is essential that the sensor wall be stretched beyond their borders and not cut through it. We cannot allow them to establish a foothold outside it.”

“Understood,” the Voro’nam said, seemingly content with their invasion corridor, “but that will require a huge amount of buoys. We will need more than one per system to insure all jumplines are monitored.”

“Three per system are required so as to cover all angles and provide redundancy if one should fail. I realize the amount that requires, but it is essential. The Li’vorkrachnika will fight us to the death rather than running…but they will do it to buy time for others to run and rebuild. Our task is not simple eradication when the enemy worlds keep shifting, and we have not fought an opponent like this for more than 400 millennia. Getting them all is our task, and it will take a great effort to do so. I am up for the challenge, but I will not have our efforts spoiled by head hunters. The mass of deaths will come when I say so, and not before we have them completely encircled.”

“Which is why the I’rar’et are going to be assaulting the worlds discovered here and conducting other information raids. Once we have a rimward boundary located they will reposition there and with the help of the Sli’nar establish a rear sensor wall, then being pushing in from either corner of the box once it is established. The Ari’tat will also stretch out around the Skarron front to deploy sensor buoys in their wake and around the periphery, linking with Sli’nar on the rim. The I’rar’et side will link to the Voro’nam, and the galactic voids will form the other sides of the box.”

“What if they bypass on the outliers?” the Voro’nam asked.

“That’s where I will be sending a great deal of our scouts. Those areas have not been properly mapped anyway, so there will be a handful of Tivet ships with them to ensure the records are accurately updated.”

“Why are the Tivet involved?” the Lir’nen asked. “They were not granted a slot.”

“Not a combat slot, no. But they will not be fighting unless the Li’vorkrachnika attempt to circumvent the sensor wall that they should not even know is in existence. I asked for their assistance and they agreed to supply it. I do not trust in the competence of hired scouts.”

“Understandable,” the Ari’tat agreed.

“You are delaying our involvement in combat,” the Sli’nar complained, tapping its long claws on the floor in frustration.

“You will be the last, yes.”

“Why?”

“Placement of the sensor wall is of the utmost priority and you have more ships to do it with than the others. But also remember, when the other sides of the box are intact and we are moving in, where do you think they will try and flee to?”

“Picking up scraps is hardly worth our time.”

“Yet you will do it if I order it, or you will be left behind.”

“We are not refusing, we are seeking the reasoning behind the choice.”

“Our data indicates that the Li’vorkrachnika originated rimward. If that is true, where do you think their most developed systems will be located?”

The long necked Therizinosaur huffed approvingly, then offered no further complaint.

“Entrapment is our first priority, and to do that we must make the path of least resistance be into their core. Initial assaults will be designed to do that, so you must hold to your assigned corridors and clear them thoroughly. Monitor systems not belonging to them, but do not take action in any without my prior approval. From what we can tell the Li’vorkrachnika do not share worlds, and if there is any evidence to the contrary I will decide what to do with it.”

“You don’t want us making auxiliary strikes?” the I’rar’et asked for the benefit of the others.

“No, I do not. We are operating beyond V’kit’no’sat borders, but if you think you have a free hand here to play you are mistaken. Stick to your duty and do not deviate from it. If another race needs hit, that is a decision for others to make or myself, should it involve this campaign. You will not attack others for additional ‘practice.’”

“Once we have the Li’vorkrachnika boxed in I will assign interior invasion corridors based off your battle records. As of now, the only one with a guaranteed primary world to hit is the Lir’nen, and they are guaranteed nothing beyond that. There are plenty of worlds that need conquering and I will make use of you all for that lest you give me a reason not to, but as for who will get the choice worlds and the bulk of the smaller ones will be decided later based on merit, and I alone will make those decisions.”

“You will judge your own Zen’zat equitably?” the Lir’nen asked.

“My loyalty is to the mission. I will not reward incompetence, no matter where it appears.”

“And if all perform equally?”

“Then there will be great shame on the I’rar’et,” he joked, referencing their superior status within the V’kit’no’sat.

“Rajamal was chosen for a reason,” Ha’chet said evenly. “He will not misuse any assets, so do not look for favoritism here.”

“Still,” the Ari’tat differed, “it is a concern.”

“We are not worried about Zen’zat preference.”

“Then neither will we,” the Voro’nam said with a note of finality. “There should be ample opportunity for combat even for those with the smallest assigned corridor.”

The Lir’nen agreed with a head flick. “When do we launch?”

“The sensor wall must come first, and if there is a delay in its implementation we will have to push back the timetable, but you have 120 days to assemble your forces and arrive at your initial targets. The Ari’tat and Sli’nar will begin dispersing sensor buoys immediately. The I’rar’et will wait until nearby segments are complete before they launch their first strikes. I estimate that will take longer than 120 days. We don’t want to prompt an evacuation before we have the ability to track it.”

“Acceptable.”

“You have your assignments. Rally your fleets and requisition any additional supplies as needed through my staff. Sector-wide production is at our disposal. If there are no other immediate concerns, make haste.”

There weren’t, and the six military commanders left the chamber to consult with their command staffs that would be remaining onboard Rajamal’s ship so to coordinate the overall campaign. The commanders themselves would be leaving, but having individuals that could represent them in person was highly preferred over weeks of signal lag, thus those left behind were of high station and personally trusted by their commanders.

When the room emptied, Rajamal telepathically summoned those waiting nearby and his Zen’zat peers entered with him altering the starmap to their assigned corridor.

“We have a large berth to cover,” Rajamal began as the 8 of them joined him in a loose circle around the map. “I trust I can give each of you a piece of it and not have any concerns?” he asked, addressing some that were of even higher station than himself.

“The I’rar’et will be difficult to surpass,” Daemon warned, looking at the mass of tiny star system dots that they were going to have to take possession of, “save for clearing subsurface areas. They will be of no use down there, but their own Zen’zat will be prepared. I think we will have an advantage, but I do not know if it will offset their other strengths. I cannot promise that we will outperform them, but we will get the job done.”

“That is all I require. If we simply match them, it will be to our credit.”

“Still difficult,” Yarro agreed, “but possible. You can be assured we will make progress with all available haste, and I suggest you do not assign yourself territory to take. You need to be free to troubleshoot.”

“And keep an eye on the Lir’nen,” Proarch added. “They have a score to settle that their skills may not match. Expect some form of duplicity from them.”

“I intend to preempt it if I can.”

“Are you assigning our own monitoring rovers?”

“Yes. I’m not relying on their own relays. There can be too many ‘accidental’ disruptions.”

“There may be an issue if the Li’vorkrachnika already have scouts beyond the sensor walls,” Daemon warned.

“Which is why I’m having the contracted scouts working outside the walls rather than in after this initial sweep. If they are savvy enough to send out splinter colonies immediately we will not be able to stop them unless they leave record of it. That is why data recovery is vital.”

“We’ll be thorough,” Proarch promised.

“I know. And I thank you for coming to assist despite your seniority.”

“It’s your campaign. I just want a piece of the action.”

“As do I,” Daemon added. “We have a score to settle with the Li’vorkrachnika and an example to set. I’m curious how we can match up against the I’rar’et, but we should be able to at least surpass the Ari’tat. Their combat capabilities are almost a hindrance rather than an asset.”

“On the ground I agree,” Rajamal echoed, “but their fleet is formidable and we have lesser numbers than any of them.”

“Are any more on the way?”

“Yes, and we may get continual reinforcements as more volunteers arrive, so I can only give you low end estimates of available assets.”

“We will make do, but the Hjar’at ships I brought outmatch anything the others have,” Daemon promised.

“I know,” Rajamal said with a smile. “Make sure to demonstrate that for the record keepers.”

“Watch our back,” Proarch told him, “and we’ll take care of the bulk of the work.”

“As I expected.”

“I was informed that Itaru will be watching closely,” Daemon said cautiously, referencing the V’kit’no’sat empire’s capitol deep in the galactic core. “There are issues involved that we are not privy to, and my sources believe it involves the I’rar’et.”

“Something to prove?”

“Perhaps, but whatever it is, it is intricate and kept from our knowledge deliberately.”

Rajamal looked at all of the Zen’zat legends around him slowly, judging from their expressions their mood given the mental blocks preventing him from assessing them directly.

“Whatever it may be, it is not our concern. We perform as best we can, and if it upsets someone’s plans then so be it. V’kit’no’sat are superior. We do not feign superiority, we earn it. If the factions with us cannot…”

“It is not our concern,” Daemon echoed, twisting the sentiment around.

7

July 1, 3600

Teqwa System (Li’vorkrachnika territory)

Scak

Rajamal stood on the command deck of his personal Na’shor monitoring operations on the planet below as had become typical. Zen’zat leaders did not get personally involved in the combat unless they were needed to achieve victory or they got so bored they needed the activity. His purpose here was to oversee and guide the killing rather than to partake in it himself, though it was becoming clear through subsequent intelligence reports that this foe was going to be battled not so much in combat as in strategy, leaving him with the primary responsibility.

More historical records had been recovered from the Li’vorkrachnika along with a host of operations data that led him to believe they were even more slippery than expected. Their leaders were in fact ghosts that did not interact with the vast majority of their civilization…both the hereditary leaders and the strategists, and this left the populace without knowledge of their actions or methods, but Rajamal’s people were beginning to ferret out clues in the captured databases and bits of genetic memory that were allowing him to put together a better picture of who and what these Li’vorkrachnika were.

And they were a weapon, pure and simple. There were no civilians, yet they weren’t a hive mind. They were individuals built to be fiercely loyal to the mission given to them, never accepting of surrender or capture, and instructed to do whatever damage they could to the enemy upon not being able to accomplish their primary mission.

And they were produced in vast numbers. Rajamal hadn’t grasped the full potential of their breeding factories because it wasn’t being employed on the worlds that he had surveillance on, but the reports coming in about their technology and what it was truly capable of massing impressed the Zen’zat.

Guile, deceit, and misdirection. Those were the cornerstones of the Li’vorkrachnika as much as straight up fights where one clawed to the death at any opponent within range. The weapons did the clawing, but it was the genetic memories and those that programmed them that did the planning. Still none of the strategists had been found on the 183 systems that the Zen’zat had taken thus far, nor in any of the other invasion corridors. For as primitive and inferior as the Li’vorkrachnika appeared to be, they were not so feeble that they couldn’t contend with the V’kit’no’sat in some respects.

He understood now why they’d been able to kill a Zen’zat. Their limited technology was a false omen. This race was far more than it appeared to be and the answers he needed lay with the strategists and their leaders…though he expected them to continue to elude his grasp. The only way he was going to get to them was by infiltration, and sending in teams deep to their territory was not advisable given how little they knew of them.

Rajamal would wait until they had gathered more data, then he would dispatch stealth teams to the densest Li’vorkrachnika worlds and hope that one of them could track down these key individuals prior to an invasion…but it would have to be well prior, for he did not think they stayed in one location and most likely moved ahead of any activity that might jeopardize them. To counter that he was going to have to hit worlds almost at random, but until he got his hands on a strategist or leader to interrogate he was going to have to battle them by proxy.

The key to their dominance was in their ability to regenerate, and they had done so numerous times over the course of their history when it appeared they were losing. Whether this was an adaptation after the fact or part of an elaborate ruse he could not be certain, but there had been occasions that losing had put them in a more favorable position after bleeding the enemy of ships and resources, only to rebuild faster than they could and end up achieving the final victory.

And when they hadn’t succeeded they had adapted. Their original homeworld and a great amount of territory had been lost to them out on the rim to an alliance of races opposed to them, which in fact was the assumed reason they had pushed coreward as far and hard as they could. Their current primary worlds were in fact new ones created after their originals had been captured or destroyed. The records weren’t clear on the specifics of that defeat, and even now the Skarrons were tearing apart significantly developed systems on their border and pushing into what would eventually be their primaries, of which many still had not been located.

Rajamal had a good picture of the coreward fringes and was wiping out their exploratory colonies with great success, but the middle gut of their territory was still a question mark to him with little more than dots and the jumplanes connecting them to work off of. That would change in time, but the information security of the Li’vorkrachnika surpassed most races in the galaxy. They kept their own people in the dark so efficiently that even the V’kit’no’sat and all their code breaking power couldn’t find secrets that weren’t in the captured systems to find.

How long would it be until he found a system that did have some answers? He didn’t know but he suspected it would not be soon, and while he didn’t doubt that this campaign could be concluded successfully, the more he learned of the Li’vorkrachnika the more he feared them doing something unexpected. Something that he wouldn’t see coming, or perhaps something he’d never see. If they evacuated their leaders early, expecting an overrunning of their territory, would he be able to detect them? Could they think so far ahead to be evacuating now?

Something about the Li’vorkrachnika didn’t feel right. They were behaving too intelligently while bumbling around the galaxy.

Whatever was going on, he was going to find out. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to achieve a clean sweep of their race.

Back on Oppwu, Zen’zat research teams were studying the emptied Li’vorkrachnika cities as well as sending stealth teams into the containment zone where the living survivors were ‘holding out’ against the V’kit’no’sat. There was still occasional combat on the border as they tried to break out or just do damage, bleeding off some of their population that they simply regrew within a few months, but otherwise there was no activity. They were kept inside and Zen’zat stealth teams were making daily penetrations unknown to the enemy.

They accomplished it via a combination of stealth armor that turned them into pure black shadows most effective at night, and with Ikrid deceptions. Hanniel was on one such mission with a group of six, each of them split up within a particular building and hiding on different levels while they monitored the minds of those inside, delving into their memories…specifically their genetic memories…and compiling a database of the tactics and tendencies that all the Li’vorkrachnika combat troops shared by default.

Such a task took time, so this wasn’t Hanniel’s first run into the confinement zone. She knew where to go and not go, staying away from the vision of most and the security cameras the city had, while using her Ikrid to hide from the others. Right now she was in a small storage chamber alone, peering through the wall into the mind of a Li’vorkrachnika on the other side whom she had frozen in place in order to prolong the analysis. She could do it without interfering, but these deep scans took time and she couldn’t waste the effort on one only to have him walk out on her.

Using special programs within her armor, Hanniel was taking detailed notes of each race that had been programmed into their memory and at the moment she was detailing the profile of one called the Hycre. There was no memories of ground combat with them, but they were known to have a formidable navy and good at running down isolated ships. This one’s memories told him that loose but close formations were the most effective in fighting them, allowing for massed firepower while giving the Hycre the chance to run through the middle of them as they favored. If properly aligned, they could deliver a killing blow during those few seconds and turn the tables on one of the Hycre’s favorite engagement tactics.

Hanniel didn’t care about the Hycre, but how the Li’vorkrachnika adapted to various combat strategies was relevant…even if in only a very small way, but that was what Hanniel was here for. Searching and cataloging anything and everything that might be of military value to this campaign or afterwards. And if there was something useful, better to find it now rather than after they were all exterminated. Otherwise they’d just become another database entry for individuals to rifle through later looking for examples from history to confirm or modify various tactics.

But today something happened that Hanniel didn’t expect. She came across a ground combat opponent in their genetic memory that had the highest danger profile that she’d encountered thus far. They were known as Archons and were bipedal, very strong, fast, and almost impossible to kill. They could even take control of the Li’vorkrachnika’s minds, so they had to keep their distance and…

Hanniel got a creeping sensation up her spine as she made the connection, then dug into those specific memories further. Telekinesis was also confirmed, as was an invisible energy discharge and a disabling mental state that didn’t take control of their bodies but made them twitch and lose control of them momentarily.

Lachka, Jumat, and Fornax.

Hanniel pushed for everything this one had, including visual confirmation of the Archons. They wore armor of various colors that indicated their strength levels and it was very hard for the Li’vorkrachnika to penetrate. Detonation packs were the best method of quickly taking them down, but they could usually sense them coming…

The Zen’zat skipped over that, looking for their natural form and eventually finding it buried deep with their genetic memory. Tan skin, hair, eyes, nose…they were Zen’zat. She would have guessed Ter’nat, but not with those powers.

But that made no sense. How could they have encountered Zen’zat before?

She dug into the location of this race and didn’t find much, but when she linked in remotely with their current database the approximate location of these Zen’zat aligned with a straight border that was well familiar to her and the others on the rimward side of Li’vorkrachnika territory. It was labeled ‘Star Force’ and was an alliance of numerous races that had kicked the Li’vorkrachnika out of their homeworld and a lot more territory…and if they had Zen’zat assistance that would only make sense.

But who had sent them there? This Star Force wasn’t listed in the current database as having any affiliation with the V’kit’no’sat, and prior to this reconnaissance mission it hadn’t even appeared on their maps. Was one of the factions aiding this Star Force in secret? Or was it a sanctioned activity whose knowledge was forbidden to those of her standing?

Whatever the case, she had to do more fact finding. They all did, so she raised the other Zen’zat in the building and across the city on their comms and they all started digging into what should have been identical memories. Then they painstakingly retrieved every bit of it related to Star Force and these Archons.

There wasn’t a lot there, but there was enough to connect the dots when combined with the Li’vorkrachnika database. As was true with much of it, the genetic memories functioned as the key to understanding the data stored, and with them the Zen’zat realized that Star Force was the Li’vorkrachnika’s bane. They’d done more damage to them than anyone else and nearly destroy them all…save they wouldn’t pass beyond the line that was now their coreward border and the Li’vorkrachnika’s rimward one.

That was where the I’rar’et and Sli’nar would be going eventually according to the basic invasion plans made available to all those involved. Did these Zen’zat assisting this Star Force belong to the I’rar’et and this was the reason why they were involved in such a primitive eradication campaign? And if so, why hadn’t she been informed? She served the I’rar’et faithfully, but not to the point of keeping secrets from the rest of the empire.

If this was something they’d arranged then they could explain it to Rajamal himself, and if it was meant to be kept a secret then Hanniel and the others in the research team, thinking in concert, agreed to keep it quiet until they’d finished their investigation of these Archons and Star Force, then they’d inform the I’rar’et and Rajamal privately and at the same time. Beyond that it would be their call how to handle this, but something told Hanniel this was trouble. There was supposed to be no one beyond the frontier. Not even simple scouting missions unless it was sanctioned by Itaru, and even then she’d not heard of anything happening out there for more than 60,000 years.

Everyone knew they were under strict orders to maintain a tight territorial boundary, but they didn’t know why. If these Zen’zat were assigned by the I’rar’et or another faction against the wishes of the others there would be hell to pay, so Hanniel and the other researchers knew to take great care in detail and accuracy of the reports as they compiled them…as well as to insure no one became aware of their findings prior to the reveal, so they kept all the files on their personal armor and away from the I’rar’et and the other Zen’zat.

When the time came, Hanniel would deliver the results to Rajamal and the I’rar’et assigned to his Na’shor personally…then duck and cover when the accusations and denials began. She and the others would do their duty to the V’kit’no’sat overall first, even if that meant outing the I’rar’et, but they would take no joy in it. She was loyal to the I’rar’et and hoped that this wasn’t their doing, unless it had been sanctioned, but at this point there was no way of knowing any more than what the Li’vorkrachnika knew.

And the sooner she got this report compiled and to Rajamal the better.

8

October 31, 3600

Taklemah System (Li’vorkrachnika territory)

Unnamed Planet

Rajamal was studying reports coming in from his forces spread across the campaign when the courier ship arrived. It wasn’t scheduled and refused to say anything other than it had a personal message for him to be delivered by a Zen’zat emissary. The ship belonged to the I’rar’et, but was a Zen’zat support vessel more suited to their size, Kaeper-class. Decent engines, overly large fuel capacity, and made specifically for long range scouting/courier missions. Many of these ships were out dropping sensor buoys, and he had no idea why one of them had come here to find him.

When he accepted the transfer request he met the single Zen’zat deposited onto his Na’shor. She wasn’t a warrior, but rather a researcher previously stationed in the Ittick System. Beyond that he knew nothing about her as she walked up to him, her armor retracted down into the intricate forearm-mounted jewelry that showed her station. His own forearm gauntlets were considerably larger and less ornate, with the additional mass needed for the combat grade equipment.

“What is this about?” he asked, suspecting something important due to the unusual security.

“I need to inform you and the I’rar’et simultaneously,” Hanniel said firmly, but politely.

Rajamal frowned. “You serve the I’rar’et. Why would they not already have been informed?”

“I came here on my own volition. They did not send me.”

“Oh?”

“Our research has turned up a delicate matter. Informing one of you before the other seemed inappropriate.”

“Concerning what?”

“I need to tell you both in person.”

“Am I going to like it?”

“I am attempting to do my duty to the V’kit’no’sat as a whole…even if it may implicate the I’rar’et in misbehavior.”

Rajama’s face grew tight. “Follow me.”

Hanniel walked behind him as he led her further into his huge ship, eventually ending in a private chamber with an I’rar’et already waiting for them, apparently signaled telepathically by Rajamal, for he knew of the situation before she could say a word.

“Why did you violate protocol?” he demanded, mildly miffed and looking down at her over the long, pointed beak that made up the front of his angular head.

“What we discovered will affect the current campaign, thus Rajamal needed to know first.”

“Know what?” the Zen’zat asked, leaning back on a deactivated holo pedestal and crossing his arms over his chest with a slight click from his overlapping gauntlets.

“I discovered, and others helped to fully document, genetic memories within the Li’vorkrachnika detailing the best ways to fight various races they have previously encountered. There is an alliance of races on the northern border of the Li’vorkrachnika known as Star Force. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes,” Rajamal answered.

“They are where our sensor wall will backline,” the I’rar’et added.

“Which is why I wanted you to hear this simultaneously. Do the I’rar’et have any current assets there?”

“You question us?”

“It is pertinent.”

“We are not released to that corridor until operations here are complete to Rajamal’s satisfaction.”

“So you have nothing there already, perhaps from a previous operation?”

“What are you inferring, Zen’zat?”

Hanniel looked directly at Rajamal.

“There is a race within Star Force known as Humans. Some Humans are different and labeled as Archons. These Archons are the worst opponent that the Li’vorkrachnika have ever faced. I discovered the genetic memory for them and how to fight them, and there is little they can do to overcome their strength and power, for absent our size the profile matches our own.”

It took Rajamal a moment to comprehend what she was saying, then his eyes widened.

“These Archons are Zen’zat?”

“And the Humans are Ter’nat, but the Archons are not of greater size and some of the Ter’nat are. We did not get an answer for why, but amongst the powers listed in the genetic memories are Jumat, though they know it by a different name,” she said, looking at the I’rar’et accusingly.

Rajamal did as well, knowing how rare Jumat was within the V’kit’no’sat. That meant only elite Zen’zat had been assigned to whatever this fake empire beyond the border was.

“I know nothing of this,” the I’rar’et said in all honestly, dropping his mental resistance so they could be certain he was speaking the truth, for he didn’t have the mental blocks that the Zen’zat did, relying instead on his own mental strength to keep others out.

“These Archons led this alliance of races in defeating the Li’vorkrachnika, taking their homeworld and driving them from their former territory,” Hanniel went on, “but they stopped pursuing them at their current rimward border. The one you are about to travel to. Did you notice how perfectly straight it was?”

“So not to get close enough that we might notice,” Rajamal said, his own tone accusing, but not directed at the I’rar’et specifically, for they had not requested the assignment on that end of Li’vorkrachnika territory. He’d given it to them for other reasons, but they had wanted to take part in this eradication for some hidden purpose.

“Unless I have been deliberately not informed, we know nothing of this,” the I’rar’et said firmly. “And if it was sanctioned activity Ha’chet would know and he would have informed me of it. Something is not right here, and if some faction has been operating beyond the frontier…”

That thought was left hanging in the air, for all three of them knew how much internal trouble that would cause if it was true. There would be a territorial forfeiture at minimum, but the penalties could get far more drastic. Knowing that, one would only try something like this if they were stupid or had some larger plan in place…and that worry had them all fearful.

“You were right to conceal this until it was brought to my attention,” Rajamal said slowly. “How strong is this Star Force?”

“They have been conquering a massive amount of territory and reworking it as they see fit. We’ve been able to corroborate database entries with the genetic memories to get a better picture, but we’re still sorely lacking in data. It seems that this Star Force is very new and growing rapidly. Not just in size, but in technology. They practically sprouted up out of nowhere, but these ‘Humans’ make up only a tiny fraction of Star Force’s population. The rest are acquired races that they have outfitted with their own technology that, at a minimum, includes Bra’hem.”

The I’rar’et reared back slightly, puffing out its wings until they hit the walls, which only frustrated it more.

“What treachery is this? Whoever is responsible will be culled.”

“That is why we must handle this carefully,” Rajamal warned. “This has implications far beyond this campaign, but knowing my battle plan someone must be very vexed right now…unless it is the I’rar’et.”

“It is not. I can promise you that. Can we not account for all Zen’zat with Jumat?”

“Yes we can,” Rajamal said, activating the main hologram and digging into his ship’s database. It wasn’t accurate to the present date given communications lag, but if someone had been gone for a very long time they should be able to track them or their absence. “Was this a single individual with Jumat they were concerned about, or many?”

“Many. These Archons have different colors of armor that denote their abilities, and Jumat seems to be present in several of them.”

“Our armor?”

“No. It is made of hard shells. A clever design to afford them movement, but not the equal of ours in agility. They are more hardy to damage taken, based off estimates.”

“A clever disguise without sacrificing effectiveness,” the I’rar’et noted. “Trading out one strength for another. Were there any other races in this alliance that we are familiar with?”

“Possibly an aquatic that was listed as having been eradicated.”

“How long ago?”

“834,000 years.”

“And how recent is this Star Force?”

“Less than 2,000.”

Rajamal shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense unless there is a long lasting conspiracy taking place.”

“I agree,” the I’rar’et said. “We should go to this Star Force and find out what they truly are.”

“No,” Rajamal said firmly. “We do not tip our hand so blindly. How many others know of this?”

“Only the Zen’zat in my research team, and they have pledged to remain silent until they hear from you.”

“Are you certain the memories are Zen’zat?”

Hanniel responded by transmitting some snippets of them from her mind to his.

“What is wrong?” she asked after he was silent for more than a minute.

“You will remain silent on this. Both of you,” he added more forcefully to the I’rar’et, “while I consult with another. If this is what I fear, then we will be going straight to Itaru with it.”

The I’rar’et hissed in displeasure.

“If there is treason here, it is for the Sector or Regional Council to ferret out.”

“Wrong. If there is treason here, it jeopardizes the very core of the V’kit’no’sat. And I will deal with it accordingly. We are leaving this system immediately and you will be assigned to me until further notice,” he told Hanniel. “I assume you brought all necessary data with you?”

“On my armor. There is no other source on the ship that brought me.”

“Well played, and thank you for your wisdom in this matter. I will deal with it from here, but first I need you to lay out everything you know about these rogue Zen’zat and Ter’nat.”

“I do not see why Ter’nat would be involved,” the I’rar’et said. “They are not useful for anything other than breeding stock…”

“Exactly,” Rajamal said, sensing the fear and horror in that simple statement. “And when there are no Jumat bearers listed as dead or assigned to dubious missions, it leads me to one of many concerns…but those are Zen’zat matters and I trust you not to discuss this with others. You will also not be able to send messages off this ship until I say otherwise.”

“Can I then discuss it with the others onboard ship?”

“Would they know more than you?”

“Unlikely.”

“Then no. And do not inform the other races here either. They need to be kept unaware in case one of them are involved.”

“Do you not wish to interrogate them if they show their hand?”

“I want to keep the advantage of surprise that we have as long as possible. If only the 3 of us on this ship and those Zen’zat back in Ittick know, then knowledge of it will not spread. Whoever has done this must be watching us closely for fear that we discover the truth, and if the treason runs as deep as I fear they will not hesitate to destroy this ship to conceal it.”

The I’rar’et leaned his head forward, coming within half a meter of the Zen’zat.

“What is it you fear so?”

“That is what I need to seek counsel on, and I can only do that with other Zen’zat.”

“Whatever you decide, make haste. The I’rar’et are not responsible for this, but we want to discover who is as soon as possible.”

Rajamal nodded and sent word to the bridge to get them underway, then he turned back to Hanniel.

“Continue with your research findings.”

“They are too strong,” he told Daemon, having arrived in his sector of the Zen’zat invasion corridor and brought the commander onboard his ship for a private meeting.

“Meaning?”

“Jumat is prevalent, and individuals have far too many psionics. Too many for natural progression. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

His fellow Zen’zat was silent while he continued to dig through the files before him and the memories that Rajamal transferred from his own mind. When he thought he was about to speak he did not, moving back to another section of the data. It took several minutes before Daemon answered his question with a very displeased look on his face.

“You’re not wrong. Someone is artificially advancing Zen’zat.”

“What could they hope to gain from this? The punishment will be so severe I cannot see any worthwhile risk to it.”

“What if it’s someone’s doing who isn’t bound by our rules?”

Rajamal’s face screwed up in confusion and disgust, but he thought on that for a moment.

“They would have had to acquire Zen’zat genetics from somewhere, and I am not aware of any missing individuals dating back to the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. All corpses have been recovered since then, and the possibility of someone engineering a Zen’zat with a tissue sample is so unlikely I can’t even quote you the odds. Capturing a Ter’nat and trying to upgrade them would be more likely, but their systems are monitored to keep them in, but they function just as well to keep others out. I do not know how an exterior power could have orchestrated this, and if they did I do not believe they would use them in this fashion, blatantly and extensively close to our border.”

“Yet they seem to have knowledge of it, hence the reluctance to fully eradicate the Li’vorkrachnika. Ironic, that had they done so we probably never would have discovered them, and that their reluctance allowed the Li’vorkrachnika to extend so far as to attack us. Though I do not fault them for the stupidity inherent in that idea, for had it not happened I would not have foreseen them doing it either. There is, though, another possibility that you are overlooking."

“Enlighten me.”

“Did you note the location of their capitol?”

“I did not see any significance to it.”

“But there is,” Daemon said, pulling up an old starmap from before the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. “Look.”

Rajamal compared the two and saw that one of the sparsely placed frontier colonies from back in that age lay in exactly the same place.

“The Rit’ko’sor attacked and destroyed everything they could find,” Daemon continued, “but this was a waterworld and the aquatics could not be touched, nor did they have the firepower to destroy the planetary defense station, so they flooded it instead to remove it from the surface of the planet along with everything else V’kit’no’sat. The J’gar and other aquatics evacuated the colony, citing it wasn’t worth rebuilding, and scratched it off the map. With all the damage the Rit’ko’sor inflicted, it and others fell beyond the new frontier.”

“And maybe someone went back to it?”

“Possibly. Or maybe the J’gar lied and left something behind that’s been developing ever since. After all, why pull back if your underwater structures are intact? There are reasons to, for sure, but if they’d already been attacked and the aquatics were safe what cause would there be to pull out?”

“How many were there?”

Daemon pulled up those statistics for them both to see.

“Not many,” Rajamal answered himself.

“And all are accounted for,” Daemon added. “As far as the swimmers go. But the Zen’zat on the surface were destroyed…as far as they reported, and that report is a blind spot that could have been used as cover.”

“To what end?”

“I don’t pretend to know what is happening here. I’m only throwing out theoreticals.”

“Keep doing so.”

“If you wanted to experiment with Zen’zat you’d do it beyond the border where no one would look, and the J’gar are patient enough to have taken an opportunity like this when it arose.”

“And then have them build an empire and start knocking off everything in sight?”

“That perplexes me unless it was a field test. The coreward boundary is obviously meant to keep them away from us, and has done so up until now. Which perplexes me as to why we don’t have scouting expeditions regularly sent to the rim to keep us aware of what is happening out there.”

“If we’re not allowed to go then there’s no point in knowing,” Rajamal said sarcastically. “After all, no one can be superior to the V’kit’no’sat, so there’s no bother in looking. Anyone important enough will come to us.”

“Typical Oso’lon propaganda,” Daemon agreed. “Just because the Hadarak occupy our time doesn’t mean we should be oblivious to the rest of the galaxy. I do agree, though, that we shouldn’t keep expanding into territory that we can’t dominate. Spreading ourselves too thin would be a mistake, but intentional blindness is a folly.”

“That someone has taken advantage of.”

“There is another possibility. A slim one, but I feel I have to point it out. Perhaps some Zen’zat were left behind accidentally…”

“And did what? Violate their oaths, reproduce, and build their own empire? One in which they have the genetic knowledge to activate psionics at will?”

“Far-fetched, but given that their capitol is a former colony the possibility has to be considered. Their armor is also curious. If you don’t expect to be discovered why alter it? Ours is better, though I’ll admit theirs is a bit tougher, assuming comparable materials that may not be the case.”

“Different and better are not always the same things, but I take your point.”

“I don’t take yours.”

“Fixed structures can hold more components.”

“But the weight would be cumbersome.”

“A tradeoff that might be better in select circumstances.”

“Curious, I hadn’t thought of that. Why don’t we have tougher versions?”

“Because we never need it,” Rajamal said honestly, then his memories brought obvious anxiety to his face, “unless we’re fighting each other.”

“You fear this may be the tip of a plot that will lead to another rebellion?”

“Yes I do.”

“Then I will go with you to Itaru and we will present them with the situation…then weather the fallout together. I too do not want another bloody war against our brothers, but if it has to happen, so be it. The V’kit’no’sat must be made of pure bonds, else we will break in other ways.”

“Your words are wise, but I still cannot conceive how someone would see this as an advantage.”

“Creating an independent army of superior Zen’zat outside our borders,” Daemon said evenly as he drew a horrific look from Rajamal. “Your problem is you trust too much, and after the Rit’ko’sor there was one lesson learned by all the factions…if you’re going to rebel, you have better make damn sure you’re going to win. And fighting without an advantage is the equivalent of suicide.”

“So someone breeds enhanced Zen’zat and gives them experience fighting in the rim as they grow their own empire.”

“Which probably has them seeing more combat than most Zen’zat.”

“I had hoped when I came here you would alleviate my fears. Now they are far worse.”

“Itaru,” Daemon reminded him. “We can discuss further on the way, but our duty in this is clear.”

“So it is,” Rajamal said sadly. “And if we are to fight them, Itaru will never sanction our own advancement to match.”

“Meaning we’ll be fighting superior opponents? Possibly, but I for one am ready for a real challenge.”

“Against other Zen’zat?”

“I would prefer not, but we take on what fate supplies us. Rogue Zen’zat or not.”

Rajamal sighed. “We have lost so much already.”

“Most of which has been rebuilt.”

“You can’t rebuild dead warriors.”

“No, you can only replace them with inexperienced ones. Which is why the Rit’ko’sor hurt us so badly. It would have been worse if not for us. The Hjar’at are too stubborn to recognize threats that defy their understanding of warfare. The Rit’ko’sor would have destroyed them if we hadn’t intervened. You should be proud of your part in that.”

“We never should have been on opposing sides. We should have been pooling our resources and fighting the Hadarak together.”

“They trust us because we are the most loyal. Unfortunately that statement can be construed in two accurate ways. Do not dwell on it. We made no mistakes, and those who did are mostly dead by now.”

“So now we face more mistakes by new faces?”

“Our best bet in avoiding them is by pointing out the obvious, and doing so directly at Itaru is better than sending the information through intermediaries. They will listen to us enough to get a direct audience, and if we make a few stops first I can arrange some other names they will listen to.”

“You should have been leading this invasion, not me.”

“You are more than qualified, so there is no issue.”

“Still…” Rajamal said, letting that hang in the air as he scrolled through a few maps with Daemon pointing out systems they needed to visit in order to procure additional Zen’zat of renown that would insure that their envoy would not get pushed aside once they arrived at the capitol…and that the Elder Conclave would take this matter as seriously and they should.

9

April 27, 3601

Itaru System (V’kit’no’sat capitol)

Wendigama

Rajamal, Daemon, and three other high ranking Zen’zat were permitted entry into the Elder Conclave by other Zen’zat through the smaller doorways built for them. More Conclave guardians were stationed at the larger entrances, and those were not Zen’zat due to the physical size needed to keep unwanted individuals out. If an Oso’lon wanted in, there was little Zen’zat could do to stop them, hence they had numerous Era’tran and Hjar’at guardians there supported by more Zen’zat where appropriate.

When the five visitors were granted entrance to the huge chamber they were placed upon a small floating platform that had a single control pedestal. Innas, a Zen’zat that had ties to the Oso’lon, took the lead position and drove the platform out from the wall of the dome-shaped chamber through the sea of pedestals that held the Elder members and their delegations from all of the 193 current member races in the V’kit’no’sat, though that did not include the Ter’nat nor Zen’zat, but there were plenty of the latter here to assist the larger races in small command stations built into or on top of the pedestals that were sometimes a half mile wide.

That was a necessity given the size of most of the V’kit’no’sat races, making the Zen’zat seem extremely small in the Conclave, even more so than in other chambers of similar purpose, for this one was so tall that there were literally clouds that formed at the top that shielded view of the flyers’ entry points, and the underside of those clouds reflected the light from the sea of holograms on and in between the pedestals as the various races conducted business individually or with one another, but in a few moments their entire attention would be focused on the visiting Zen’zat that were heading for the central platform that rose slightly higher than all others and remained empty.

Innas drove them to it without passing over any of the pedestals, meaning they had to weave in and out of the artificial islands to get there, then they parked at the foot of the hillside surrounding the central mount and climbed up the multitude of geometric stairs under their own power until they reached the summit…which put them just below head level of the longnecks, but the Zen’zat were so small that a second platform in the center raised up to an adequate height so that all could see them directly without having to rely on visual repeaters, though many did in order to view the tiny specs at distance without the benefit of armor scoping that none of them wore.

The Zen’zat wore their armor undeployed and clustered on their forearms, as did the others in the Conclave, but the larger races wore a mixture of clothing and jewelry, some of which would transform into additional items or produce shield generators, but the typical battle exoskeletons of their undeployed armor were not present here, for the idea of any threat making it inside the very core of their empire was absurd…and if they somehow did they had an army of guardians ringing the Conclave to contend with.

“What matter brings you before us?” the Oso’lon Elder asked once the Zen’zat had reached the required height, though he was more than a mile away and his voice was carried technologically so all in the Conclave could hear.

“Treason,” Rajamal said evenly with the other four Zen’zat standing beside him in silent, but obvious support.

“Explain carefully, Zen’zat. That is not an accusation to be made here without peril.”

“We do our duty, Oso’lon, and for the preservation of the V’kit’no’sat we bring information of rogue Zen’zat operating beyond the frontier.”

“Affiliated with whom?” the Era’tran Elder asked from the other side of the Conclave.

“Unknown,” Rajamal said as Daemon began creating holograms in the air above the conclave displaying the maps and other data they had collected, along with shunting the files directly to every delegation’s pedestal where the Zen’zat there could view and search through them to verify what Rajamal was saying. “Knowledge of them has been uncovered by proxy in the course of my campaign against the Li’vorkrachnika. They have battled and been defeated by these Zen’zat who operate under the name of ‘Archons’ in a multi-race alliance known as ‘Star Force’ in which there appears to also be a significant Ter’nat population.”

“Where?” the Oso’lon demanded.

“Their capitol appears to be their spawning point, but we do not know for certain became we came straight to you before scouting the area ourselves. Whoever is responsible for this must be rooted out, and giving them time to cover their tracks by revealing our presence with reconnaissance missions would have been unwise. However, their capitol lies in the Terraxis System, which was a former colony of ours prior to the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. It was listed by the J’gar as having been fully evacuated.”

Where there would have been a pedestal behind Rajamal there was an equally circular pond, one of many in the chamber but the largest of all, and out of it rose a slender head on an even thinner neck. It rose up as high as the Oso’lon and the top of a ridged body broke the surface with the mass of it remaining below water, but the purple bioluminescent patches along its spine attested to a very long length as well as several others present down there but not coming up into the air.

“You accuse us, Zen’zat?”

“The rogue Zen’zat are there, and the last report filed was by you. I do not know what is occurring, but someone is guilty of treason and must be exposed.”

“Quite right, but there are matters in play that you are unaware of.”

Rajamal didn’t respond, instead waiting for the J’gar or another to speak. Eventually it was the Hjar’at that did.

“We would also like to know of the last days of this lost colony.”

The longneck twisted to the side, throwing a look across the Conclave, but a telepathic message from another below water caused him to recoil a bit.

“We would also like to know,” the Les’i’kron Elder added.

“Terraxis was one of a number of systems that was abandoned during the Rit’ko’sor conflict. According to our own records it was fully evacuated of all surviving aquatics after the surface inhabitants had been annihilated.”

“Why was it evacuated if the Rit’ko’sor could not harm you within the oceans?” Daemon interjected, pressing the question that he knew the Hjar’at and others were also thinking, and not worried about a backlash against him. Sometimes it was better for an irreverent Zen’zat to make an unpleasant point because of their neutrality, and Daemon had learned to use that to his advantage long ago.

“We decided to shrink the empire for security reasons.”

“The evacuation,” the Oso’lon quickly corrected as their Zen’zat supplied them with a flurry of facts and relevant dates, “occurred long before that edict was enacted.”

“You seek to falsely accuse us for these rogue Zen’zat…but you needn’t bother. We left one fact out of our report because it was a matter that did not involve you. For the sake of clarity we will reveal it now. The Rit’ko’sor did attack and kill most of our population in Terraxis, but they did not do it face to face. They poisoned the waters before we knew what was occurring. Those that we evacuated were the survivors. This occurred in many systems, not just Terraxis.”

“Why were we not informed of this weapon?” the Hjar’at demanded.

“It was of no threat to you, and frankly, we did not want any other race following in the Rit’ko’sor’s footsteps. Since the war we have developed a countermeasure and are therefore no longer in jeopardy, thus I can reveal it to you now without peril.”

“Did the Sess’nat know of this as well?” the Oso’lon asked, his gaze directed towards another pond.

“All aquatics did,” the shell-less turtle answered. “The poison affected us all, and before you criticize us for our silence, remember that it was one of our own that attacked us. It is not unreasonable to assume, at that time, that there could be others plotting the same.”

“It is alarming,” the Era’tran said before the Oso’lon could speak his next rebuke, “that we trust each other so little. It strains the bonds of our civilization. However, the concealment of this weapon did not hinder the V’kit’no’sat. And while it may not speak well of trust, they are right in saying that the Rit’ko’sor betrayed that trust. And if one could do it, so could others. Now we face a similar situation. Someone has violated our trust and raised not only an army of Zen’zat for their own unsanctioned purposes, but according to this data they have also artificially enhanced them with psionics they have most assuredly not earned.”

“What!” the Brat’mar roared load enough to be heard without augmentation.

“It is in the files, and I assume the Zen’zat were about to elaborate on that point.”

“I was,” Rajamal continued. “The Li’vorkrachnika use genetic memory to prepare their troops to face any known opponent, and these Archons are the most effective against them. They cannot kill them except through extraordinary means, much like they used to kill one and damage another Zen’zat by crashing a warship on top of them and their own troops in battle. I believe such a tactic was developed by their previous contact with Zen’zat, and based on their expectations of their abilities, they possess too many psionics to be naturally developed. In point, all of the more advanced Archons possess Jumat.”

“You have not confirmed this?” the Les’i’kron asked.

“No. We have not set foot inside their territory nor come close to it as of yet, but my current invasion plans for the Li’vorkrachnika involve setting up a sensor wall around their territory, and that will put it directly in Star Force systems. Thus I need to know what you wish done before I complicate a much more important matter.”

“Your caution is most welcome, Zen’zat,” the Era’tran praised him. “As is your wisdom. This matter is one of treason, and we must conclude who is responsible. We face another rebellion, but you have stumbled upon it before it could be enacted.”

“To what end?” the Pas’cha asked, its long neck rising a bit higher than the Oso’lon. “Enhanced Zen’zat are a serious concern, but they alone cannot win a war. The Rit’ko’sor concealed their strength from us, and unless another has done likewise, this Zen’zat production makes no sense. There must be something more in play that we are not seeing.”

“Do not underestimate the power of the Zen’zat,” the Era’tran cautioned.

“Perhaps they have done this on their own? That would be far more likely than one of us concealing our numbers like the Rit’ko’sor did. We have taken exhaustive measures to counter that.”

“We have to go there and find out,” the Hjar’at said, aggression tinging his words. “There is no other option.”

“Agreed,” the Era’tran echoed.

“A joint force,” the Oso’lon amended. “So that if one of us is complicit we will not potentially be walking into a trap. Meanwhile we take measures to safeguard all other communal systems by realigning our fleets so that they are split between many locations and no one holds a majority.”

“Your paranoia is alarming,” the J’gar dismissed casually. “We take no action here other than to keep watch while we go to the heart of this matter and root out the source. We must destroy these Zen’zat, but not before we get the answers we need. We cannot obliterate them under the guise of ‘accidental’ over-aggression and potentially destroy the data we require. For this reason the Hjar’at will not lead this campaign.”

“You accuse us now?”

“I accuse you over fighting in almost every situation you encounter. We need to investigate as we destroy…and I do not believe you have the temperament for that.”

“Given this is a Zen’zat matter,” the Les’i’kron stated quickly before a war of words, and perhaps telepathy, could break out, “let the Era’tran command, but without many ships of their own. They will lead, and we will provide the bulk of a fleet necessary to retake our former colony and subdue this facsimile of an empire.”

“A sensible recommendation,” the Oso’lon agreed as it turned its long neck back towards the Zen’zat at the center of the Conclave. “You will return to your current invasion, which we have been monitoring. By the time you are ready to deploy your rimward sensor wall, this matter will already have been settled.”

“Before they are dismissed,” the Hjar’at interrupted, “I would like their assessment of the military capability of this rogue empire.”

“I would advise,” Rajamal said slowly, “that no fleet be assembled for such a direct strike that did not include a Mach’nel.”

The Oso’lon snorted so loud that it almost drowned out similar audible expressions of disgust from half a dozen other races, though most of the silent ones shared their reaction.

“How can Zen’zat warrant that?”

“We believe they have at minimum Bra’hems. If a Tar’vem’jic is not in play, it is possible that our fleet could be outmatched. With one included, even if outnumbered, the range advantage will allow for domination. If you do not wish a proper scouting assessment first, then I would take no less than a Mach’nel directly to their capitol.”

“You believe their advancement in psionics may have a complement in technology as well?” the Era’tran asked.

“I would not be surprised if it did, and as far as the Li’vorkrachnika know the tech level of Star Force has been rising artificially fast. They began with primitive technology and were almost destroyed by a paltry exploratory force, then they advanced so fast they were able to outmatch and devastate the Li’vorkrachnika. They would have annihilated them all if not for a coreward boundary they will not pass. This geographically perfect line suggests they are well aware of our surveillance capabilities and are deliberately staying out of reach. If not for the Li’vorkrachnika foolishly attacking us and inviting our wrath, we would most likely not have discovered these rogue Zen’zat at all until the time came for whomever is behind their creation to utilize them.”

“Given the lack of information and the dangers inherent,” the J’gar said with a calming tone, “I concur with the Zen’zat’s recommendation. We will supply one of ours, and that will be our sole contribution.”

“So be it,” the Era’tran agreed. “Is Mak’to’ran acceptable?”

No objections rose at the name of the legendary Era’tran, so the matter was settled by the silence.

“Zen’zat, your duty in this matter is done. Return to your current assignments and reveal nothing of this until after our strike is made.”

“As you will,” Rajamal said, then he and the other Zen’zat descended on the inner platform and hopped down the stairs to return to their speeder that they rode out across the Conclave as discussions, accusations, and speculation continued. When they passed beyond the gates and the privacy fields Daemon exchanged glances with the others.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“As do I,” Innas concurred, “but our task is completed until called upon. You have an invasion to continue.”

“For how long?” Rajamal asked, inferring the consequences that this treachery could unleash if it was as bad as feared.

“Hold to your oaths and let fate take us where it may.”

“As always,” Rajamal agreed before splitting up and heading back to the frontier with Daemon.

10

October 18, 3601

Yareni System (Era’tran Regional Capitol)

Navbu

Mak’to’ran walked up the ramp into the Era’tran transport being the last to board. Ahead of him were members of his race’s elite Hakja troops, members he’d served with in numerous high level operations over the centuries, but nothing like this had occurred to his knowledge. Even when the Zak’de’ron were brought to heel he knew who the enemy was, but this mission had him going into battle to investigate and kill rogue Zen’zat without knowing their sponsor. The very traitors they were going to attempt to expose were going to have troops under his command that could revolt at any time.

Never had there been this level of distrust amongst the V’kit’no’sat and it left him shaken. Whoever had done this had crossed many lines, so much so that their race was going to suffer heavy penalties even if they came forward and admitted to it now. But the more likely outcome was a war of some kind, and the thought that there might be more than one race involved in this scared the Era’tran from head to tail. Their bonds of brotherhood could be failing soon, and who knew how much damage they could do before he and others discovered who the traitors truly were.

While the Era’tran had been gathering their portion of the assault fleet and stacking their troops and Zen’zat into it, investigations had been taking place across the empire without so much as an iota of evidence linked to this abomination. No records of Terraxis or any link to it existed past the date of its evacuation. An idea had been floating around that the Rit’ko’sor might have been responsible for these events, spawned before they had been wiped out for their treachery, but Mak’to’ran did not think that likely.

Forcibly bypassing the genetic locks on the Zen’zat psionics was not something all the races could do. In fact there were elements of the coding that had been put in place by the Zak’de’ron that even the reborn Les’i’kron could not fathom, for much had been lost in the transition. Only 6 races were thought to possess the genetic knowledge to unlock Jumat, and each of them knew that doing so would bring weight of the empire down on top of them.

That was what Mak’to’ran could not fathom. There had to be something much more devious at work here, and he feared that something could potentially destroy the V’kit’no’sat.

Once onboard, the transport took him and the Hakja up to orbit where they took their place onboard the Kafcha-class dreadnaught that made up the bulk of the Era’tran fleet. Other than Zen’zat designated vessels, the size of the Era’tran required larger hulls to accommodate their crews, and while the Kafcha were not the largest vessels in the Era’tran fleet, they were all that were being assigned to his command. 58 of them in total, along with 300 Zen’zat Domjo medium level cruisers that were going to be the only pure Zen’zat vessels in the combine fleet that was rendezvousing in the Tham’ron System.

The other races were not coming without Zen’zat, but they were all integrated into their standard fleets as support. The Era’tran had been originally responsible for the creation of the Zen’zat and had the most interaction with them within the empire. Mak’to’ran knew they were more trustworthy than most of the other races, but given that they were going to destroy rogue Zen’zat, the others had decided not to commit any standalone units whereas he had, and a large number of them given the segmented fleet.

Final ship count was estimated to be between 9,000 and 11,000 ships, which was abnormally large heading into a single system, especially with a Mach’nel included, but it wasn’t unprecedented if you went back through battle history far enough. But to take on rogue Zen’zat it was clearly overkill, underscoring how no one else thought they’d find only Zen’zat beyond the frontier. They were expecting a much larger fight…with who was the question on everyone’s mind.

With everyone else already assembled prior to his arrival, Mak’to’ran made his way to the command deck where some 18 other Era’tran were assembled with another 40 or so Zen’zat support that would operate the ship in combat, then beyond a wall that had been removed was another chamber with a scattering of personnel. It would fill up when heavy oversight of the entire fleet was needed, and right now he didn’t even know for sure which ships and personnel he would be getting from the other races.

He gave the order to get underway and the mixed Era’tran/Zen’zat fleet jumped out of the system while Mak’to’ran worked on developing the proper relationships within his new fleet, running combat drills and testing for weaknesses in the team tactics that were required for effective naval combat. Whenever new ships were brought together under a different commander such things were required to optimize efficiency by learning each other’s tendencies. It was something that Mak’to’ran was adamant about drilling his fleet through, but he got no resistance from the Era’tran. When he got the other races’ ships added is when there would be internal wrangling to flush out prior to taking everyone into combat.

He didn’t know what they would face, and while normally the V’kit’no’sat could win with no losses no matter how bad their coordination was, the Era’tran commander wasn’t counting on such superiority here. These Zen’zat had advanced weapons, at least compared to the rest of the galaxy, and they had the advantage of home territory where, if they were smart, they’d been laying down numerous defenses and traps for when or if the V’kit’no’sat ever found them.

The idea that this was all set up as a trap to draw them in prior to a rebellion concerned him, and the J’gar so willingly offering one of their rare Mach’nel had him wondering if they weren’t going to use it against him when an opportune moment came…and that was exactly the kind of trust issues that were so abhorrent to consider.

But the situation was what it was, and there was no postponing it hoping for some revelation prior to arriving at Terraxis.

When Mak’to’ran arrived at the rendezvous system he found about two thirds of the races’ fleets having arrived, including the J’gar’s Mach’nel. It wasn’t the largest ship the V’kit’no’sat had, but it was the largest pure warship and designed to operate in all combat capacities. It measured on average 120 miles in diameter, and the J’gar version was shaped like an egg to maximize internal water volume. Key amongst the many weapon systems onboard was the presence of a small Tar’vem’jic, the most powerful ranged beam weapon the V’kit’no’sat possessed, and surrounding it was Yeg’gor armor.

That was why the Mach’nel were so rare, for manufacturing that armor was a painstaking process that required a lot of valuable materials that could otherwise produce far more technology. They had to be packed into a very dense matrix that, once formed, was virtually indestructible. It made the Mach’nel very hard to destroy, and during the Zak’de’ron culling none of the ships had been lost on either side…rather they had been boarded with the fighting inside determining the victor.

Add in the most dense shield matrix the V’kit’no’sat used in combat models and the Mach’nel was the focal point for his assembling fleet, and had it been reliable he would have been greatly comforted by the sight of it. Now the thought of it turning its weapons on his other ships made his presence near it unsettling, and he knew others must have been feeling the same way.

A communication came through for him on a private channel, so Mak’to’ran stepped onto a silver circle on the floor of the command deck and activated the privacy screen around him before a hologram of a Hjar’at appeared where his fellow Era’tran had been a moment ago, now situated in a sea of simulated darkness.

“Welcome,” the twin-spined quadruped greeted.

“Garrtak. I am pleased it was you they sent.”

“As am I you, old friend. We have a nasty situation before us.”

“Who can we be sure of?”

“Rann’iel is here, so even if the I’rar’et are included in this we know he will not betray us. It is the J’gar that worry me.”

“I too worry about that Mach’nel.”

“It cannot defeat the assembled fleet. Not by a long shot.”

“But it could do considerable damage on its own, though I do not think it would.”

“You fear multiple traitors?”

“I don’t know what to fear. This scenario makes no sense.”

“Someone has been very bold,” the Hjar’at said, with a single tiny arc of blue lightning traveling across a pair of spines denoting the anger boiling over within. “And they either didn’t expect to get caught or we are walking into their trap.”

“How dangerous do you think these rogue Zen’zat are?”

“Not very where orbital bombardment is concerned. If they have Sav, however…”

“A concern, but they will be able to match us at best strategically, not in technology.”

“I would not be so sure of that. Treachery is before us, and it knows no bounds. I would caution you to not engage in any even fights, for that would be the opportune time for a traitor to change their fleet’s allegiance. Investigate and annihilate with an abundance of caution and temerity. They expect us to come charging in and engage headfirst, so don’t do what they expect.”

“That’s almost treason coming from a Hjar’at,” Mak’to’ran said sarcastically.

“We are not on the ground yet, and I have no wish to walk into a trap with a questionable Mach’nel watching our backs.”

“I am going to have the fleet engage in extensive simulations before we leave.”

The Hjar’at looked displeased, but not with the Era’tran.

“Others will object to the timeline, citing Conclave orders.”

“I will not rush into this until we are properly coordinated.”

“You will have our support, but it will be said that you are covering for the traitors in order to give them more time to evacuate.”

“They have already had an abundance of time, and if this Star Force empire is as large as suggested they will not be able to remove all traces from it. But if we should face a much more powerful opponent, either from within or without, those loyal must not be tripping over each other during battle. Simulations will begin within the hour.”

“I will prepare my people.”

With that the Hjar’at disappeared and the privacy field lifted, revealing that the Ranto’non fleet had begun repositioning and coming towards them, signaling through the proper channels that they were ready to drop into whatever configuration the campaign commander wished.

Mak’to’ran huffed his approval. The Ranto’non were not one of the primary races within the V’kit’no’sat, but they were as loyal to the Era’tran as their hides were thick. The quadrupeds had served in many combat arenas alongside the larger Era’tran and the subtle show of solidarity told him that there was already discord within the combined fleet.

Hopefully the simulations would settle that a bit, but there was no denying the creeping sensation of betrayal lurking in their midst.

Two weeks later…

The remainder of the fleet had finally arrived, after which Mak’to’ran kept them sitting in the Sector Capitol for an additional 10 days before being satisfied with their cohesion rating. Taking his position as campaign commander, he integrated all units into his command and control system and sent orders out through his deck crew to the various ships directly rather than passing through their command vessels.

With decent response times all the ships moved through the complicated orbital extraction that was both a test and a display of superior navigational ability with them hitting 5 points around the primary jumpline to the star and all making their jumps askew of it, requiring additional navigational tugs but making for a very chilling display to anyone that might be watching the mass of ships leave within minutes of one another.

From the star they jumped out, heading across Li’vorkrachnika territory and not bothering to even shoot their ships when they came into contact with them. They merely sped past at speeds the Li’vorkrachnika could not match and made jumps between far flung stars that the primitive race could not follow through. One stellar link after another they bounced between, heading in the general direction of the Star Force border.

When they finally arrived there Mak’to’ran got his first look at their technology, for there was a small fleet in stellar orbit and a scattering of facilities elsewhere in the system, including two sparsely inhabited planets. Several requests came in for detachment orders so they could hunt the vessels down, but he did not release them. Now that they had been seen word would undoubtedly be sent out through whatever communications system they possessed, so any delay here or in the systems forthcoming would give their enemies more time to prepare.

No one disobeyed the order and went chasing them, for as much division as there was between the races they were not undisciplined, and put loyalty to the V’kit’no’sat over individual disputes…it was when there was no harm to the V’kit’no’sat that they pressed their issues with one another, and given the importance of the situation here there was no disobedience.

As they made their short transition around the star Mak’to’ran watched the Star Force ships. They didn’t engage them or try to chase, but they did pull back into what he saw was strategic positions so they could cover for what was probably civilian traffic within the system that was rapidly withdrawing to the planets and several large orbital stations.

Vermin fleeing the penance that was about to come, but these would have a bit more time than the rest to live, for this fleet was going straight to the heart of the infestation to reclaim their former colony and base out of it while they dealt with the eradication to come…assuming some further treachery didn’t unfold. Mak’to’ran was sure it would at some point, or perhaps whoever was responsible was going to play their part and help destroy the Zen’zat and hope their treachery was erased in the forthcoming destruction.

For that reason he was going to take extra care in issuing combat orders. The planets must be preserved in order to investigate, and given the size of the Star Force empire there were going to be many to choose from. Then again, the most vital secrets were probably in Terraxis, and unless tampered with, the surviving planetary defense station there would have record of all ships coming and going.

If he were them that was the first database that would be wiped out, but there were redundancies that were hard to get at. Still, this campaign had been long enough in planning that if a leak occurred and these Zen’zat had been warned, he doubted there would be any obvious evidence left remaining. That said, there was no way they could cover everything up across an entire empire in such little time. Add in to that if they took prisoners and deprived them of their protective armor they could make flesh contact and rip the answers from their minds.

Which was why as many of them had to be preserved as was possible in the capitol. Once they had the answers they sought he could unleash the loyal to complete the grim task ahead of them. For whether they be illegitimate or not, killing Zen’zat is not something that any Era’tran liked to do, though occasionally it was necessary on an individual basis.

And if these Zen’zat were merely following orders of the race sponsoring them…

Mak’to’ran would explore that possibility if an opportunity arose, but if they were Zen’zat then they would follow their orders and fight, and he’d be forced to kill them at some point or another. And even if some surrendered under those circumstances they’d have to be physically altered to remove their tier 2 and above psionics, for they could not be allowed to keep them under any circumstances.

That was wishful thinking on Mak’to’ran’s part, and he knew the others would not be so kind. Fortunately he was in command and could make the decision if it came to it, but he didn’t realistically see how this campaign would end aside from some form of massive bloodshed.

And he hoped that bloodshed would not result in the ships under his command turning on each other…but as any responsible commander would, he’d been simming his own Era’tran and Zen’zat crews for that situation should it arise.

Shiva

1

April 17, 3602

Solar System

Earth

Sweat dripped from Rio’s hair, pooling on the floor in front of where he stood, arms spread wide as two wall segments on either side of him in the middle of a large training area tried to press in on him. If he let them get within touching range then he would fail the challenge, as he’d done many times before, but he didn’t intend to today. He’d upped the pressure on the walls 3 months ago, higher than any other Archon had ever achieved, and he’d completed the 1 minute mark 7 times already over the past 3 days, but this time he was going to go to the breaking point at half pressure and see just how strong he really was.

Right now he was at 21:28 and his head was awash with ambrosia depletion, but he kept the Jumat energy flowing off of each arm, feeling like his body was a sponge he was trying to squeeze the last bits of water out of, but so far the walls were still being held back. A side effect of the prolonged Jumat use was an insanely high body temperature, making him wonder if the designers of the psionic ever intended for it to be used in such a way. He could easily have added his Lachka to help push back the walls but that would be cheating…and the Lachka wouldn’t help much, for as far as physical pressure went Jumat was far superior, even if more uncontrollable.

It felt like Rio had two giant firehoses that he was aiming at either wall, and while there wasn’t much kickback to him launching the energy it had enough kinetic impact that there was a vortex of moving air all around him as the energy waves dragged it towards the walls, but it was calm enough directly in front of him to allow his sweat droplets to fall more or less in the same place. He watched them travel as his mind focused on maintaining the effort, and the larger the puddle grew the more successful he was, but he knew he didn’t have much left. Now that the ambrosia had been sucked out of his bloodstream there wasn’t enough resources in his body to recharge the Jumat tissue enough to maintain the continuous effort…but he was going to hold on for at least a few more seconds and see what total ambrosia depletion really felt like.

Rio never got that far, for inside the sanctum an alarm sounded throughout every chamber. In fact it sounded throughout Atlantis and every other city on Earth, and Rio knew it was also warbling across every planet and facility in the star system, as well as traveling out through the relay grid to every bit of Star Force territory. It was the Red Alert sound from Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and that particular sound had been reserved by the Archons for one and only one use within their empire.

It meant the V’kit’no’sat had returned.

Rio jumped forward, abandoning his challenge and letting the walls smack together behind him as he sprinted for the door, his fatigue being partially overridden by an adrenaline surge the likes of which he’d never experienced before.

This was it. It had finally happened. And for all the advancements they’d made over the past 16 centuries they still hadn’t fully caught up to the V’kit’no’sat’s level of technology, meaning that the fight that was about to, or already broken out could very well be their last…but this is what he and the other trailblazers had been preparing for their entire lives. This was the reason why Davis had commissioned them in the first place. This was the reason Star Force existed, and now it was time to see how much of a fight they could put up.

When Rio got outside that particular training chamber he didn’t slow down, running through the sanctum’s corridors along with other Archons popping out of rooms everywhere, for they all knew what that alert meant and they needed to get to their armor and any other stations needed for battle. Rio raced past them, with the Archons sensing he was coming and stepping aside to let him through. When he got to the sanctum doors and out into Atlantis he saw other people scrambling about while some looked around wondering what was happening, for not even in their capitol city did everyone know of the secret of the V’kit’no’sat.

And everywhere across Earth the same was happening, with those in the know dropping whatever they were doing or rousing out of bed and running hard for wherever they could do some good while the rest of the population heard the klaxon without knowing what it meant, for it was coming over every comm and vid channel simultaneously for a full 10 minutes before the civilian channels reverted to normal and others followed at intervals, but Rio made it to Atlantis’s control room before the red alert in the corridors had ended.

“Where are they?” he all but yelled as he sprinted into the center of the room, looking at the main holo.

“Mastodon System, Ninja Monkey territory,” Chad-913 said, having been on station when the alert came in. “They’ve been live streaming their battlemap data, and the V’kit’no’sat fleet is still massing at the jumppoint.”

“Put it on the main,” Rio said, with the Solar System map suddenly being replaced by a far less populated one…but one with V’kit’no’sat ship markers and the first updates on their nemesis since the Rit’ko’sor rebellion.

“No new ship variants,” Chad added, “but this isn’t a factional fleet. We’ve already noted 17 different races and…oh shit.”

Rio didn’t bother to ask him what he was referring to, for at that same moment a much larger V’kit’no’sat ship emerged from its jump.

“Mach’nel,” Rio said grimly. “At least they’re not underestimating us. Who’s commanding that system?”

“Baron Rylain and the highest ranking Archon is presently Pila-388423,” an analyst answered.

“They can’t stand up against a few of those ships,” Chad all but spitted. “I hope she cuts and runs.”

“Bring all naval fleets within the system to full readiness,” Rio ordered. “I need full crews inside of 12 hours and a manifest rundown.”

“13th, 27th, 28th, and 67th fleets are already on standby and fully stocked.”

“I need more than that,” Rio said, pointing out the obvious. The biggest difference between Star Force and V’kit’no’sat warships was the size. Zen’zat were small compared to most of their races, and because of that they tended to build really big warships. Their standard battleships massed three times what a standard Star Force jumpship did, easily making them the equivalent of more than 1000 drones. Even the smallest ships arriving so far, which was their Wur’ki-class skirmishers, were on average 2.7 miles wide/long despite the various designs. In contrast, Star Force’s largest fleet drone was a battlecruiser that massed half as much.

The only way to beat them, even if tech level wasn’t an issue, was to mass numbers and go lizard on them. Taking less than 50 times their number was an invitation to suicide, and Rio was very glad that Star Force used drones rather than manned warships for the most part. This was looking to be bloody enough as is, but sending crews to their deaths against heavily armed and shielded V’kit’no’sat warships was not something he ever wanted to do. Throwing drones against them and losing the number that they had in simulations was bad enough.

And there was no way of knowing how much more powerful they’d gotten over the past millennia until they opened fire on the system defenders in Mastodon and they got some data to analyze.

But that wasn’t to happen, for as Rio was organizing a good portion of the Mainline fleets guarding Sol for deployment and sending out coordination orders to the surrounding systems, the attack in Mastodon never happened. The V’kit’no’sat ships held position at the jumppoint until the last of their 10,488 number arrived…a fricking huge fleet compared to their normal deployments even without the Mach’nel…then they began to transition around the star, passing the jumppoint for the nearest planet as Rio got a call.

“Archon, you’re requested to link in,” one of the control room staffer’s said, walking up to Rio and addressing him in person, for saying ‘Archon’ in a room full of them was not very efficient, “by Ethan-014.”

“I know his number,” Rio said with a hint of sarcasm that his face didn’t show. He’d been laser focused since the red alert had sounded and it didn’t look like that mojo was going to crack any time soon. He walked a few steps to the left and found a small crystalline orb rising up from the ground on a very thin rod, making it look like a waist-high lamppost. With his eyes still on the tactical situation in Mastodon, though time lagged by about 3 days, he put his hand on the orb and suddenly his mind was connected to the entire Sol comm network, but the most prominent mind within it was also on the planet, though in a different city, meaning there would be no appreciable lag…save for those with Sav that could detect even the tiniest of fluctuations.

So it’s finally happened, Ethan said through the computerized mental link.

Looks that way, but I’m starting to think they’re not hitting Mastodon.

My thoughts too. I’d bet they’re heading somewhere else and don’t even bother to attack. Typical superiority complex. Did you see the decel statistics?

No.

Extremely high speed. Either their gravity drives have improved far beyond expectations or they’re in a big hurry.

Going where though? Rio asked as he simultaneously accessed archived data, specifically V’kit’no’sat records from the pyramid detailing trade routes.

Maybe they don’t know we’re in Mastodon, Ethan suggested. That could explain why they’re not attacking.

That is a possibility, but Mastodon was on one of their original trade routes.

That connects to where…

Give you one guess.

Ethan quickly checked for himself, but Rio could sense his confusion through the brief silence that followed.

There are no colonization ships, he finally said. If they’re coming to reclaim Earth and don’t know we’re here, their fleet composition makes no sense.

And if they do know we’re here, why are they bypassing our colony in Mastodon?

Exactly.

The Nexus?

Doubtful. More likely they just ignored the small colony while going straight to our heart.

Depends on what intel they’ve got and where it came from. There’s a lot of other systems between Mastodon and here for them to hit.

Reesi?

Maybe. Something about this still feels off. We’ll have some idea if they take an outgoing jumpline. They might just be doing a lap around the star to take a look at everything.

Easier to just split your fleet.

I hope for Mastodon that they are just passing through. At least the others up the line will have some warning. And I don’t want to take a fleet towards them only to pass them in transit.

How much do you want to strip from here?

Enough. We can’t lowball this or we’ll get torn apart for sure.

Word. You note the new paint scheme on the Era’tran ships? Ethan asked.

Kill markers?

Those aren’t standard.

It took Rio a moment of study before he made out the symbology, then it became obvious.

Raptor kills.

And from the looks of it, these are very accomplished troops…for the Era’tran anyway.

Where are you bastards going? Rio asked, with him and Ethan carrying on a sporadic mental conversation even as Rio continued to send out direct orders to Sol and received back status intel, some of which Ethan helped to work on. They were the only two trailblazers in Sol, but there were a few others in the Star Force Core Region that could meet up with them if they could ascertain a destination point for the V’kit’no’sat fleet…assuming this was the only one coming. They couldn’t ignore the possibility that they were about to get hit in multiple locations.

Then the fleet in Mastodon began jumping out, with both Rio and Ethan releasing a big sigh of relief, for Morgan’s troops in that system wouldn’t have stood a chance.

They’re jumping for Taail,  Ethan noted, which was the next stop on the old trade route that linked out to only one point on the old V’kit’no’sat frontier…and that was Sol. I think it’s safe to assume they’re headed straight here.

Yeah, but that doesn’t meant they can’t stop off and do some shooting on the way. Clear the road for me, will ya?

Sure. What are you up to?

We know which jumpline they’ll be entering on.

Yes we do.

So get Schwartz to block all traffic outgoing on that jumpline so I can set up the Slip’n’slide.

Ethan thought about that for a moment. I guess there’s no chance of them stopping by just for a chat, is there? What’s your minimum ETA?

Just working on that. Something between 12 and 16 days.

Let’s assume 8. Our ships coming in from Schwartz are all the new models thanks to the distance, the slowest of which will take 6 days to get here. That’s cutting it pretty close.

Have Schwartz send a confirmation message when they shut it down. I’ll get the pieces in position while you handle everything civilian. Clear the skies buddy.

Will do. I hope Roger isn’t too far away.

Same here, Rio said, breaking his link and deciding to talk to his control room staff rather than working through the interface, for not all of them were linked into it.

“Listen up,” he said loudly enough to get all 300+ people’s attention. “Best guess is the V’kit’no’sat are headed straight here. Mastodon to Taail is the old trade route they took to get here, and it seems they’re using the same star charts. Hopefully they keep ignoring everyone they pass on the way, but regardless I’m betting this is their final destination, so amend the orders to the local fleets and get them ready for system defense. If the V’kit’no’sat want to come here, let them. This is where we can hurt them the most. Put out a call for all available reinforcements from roaming fleets, but do not strip assigned defenses from the surrounding systems. This may not be the only assault or that fleet could split up to go against multiple targets. We have to consider that, but my gut says they’re coming straight here.”

“So I want all stellar Sentinels moving towards the Schwartz jumpline. We should have at least 8 days, so don’t waste a minute. Those fat bastards are going to be hard to get in position, so get them moving ASAP. Gauntlet formation along the lower end of the line. Open up warehouses 53 through 78 and get the Slip’n’slide pylons out. Work out the best position on the line beyond the Sentinels. The idea is to cluster them where they will end up, and I want best to worst simulations assuming 50% increase in gravity drive power. Don’t wait on the Sentinels, get them moving and as many free jumpships pushing them along as possible. Leave planetary Sentinels in place, but move any outer ones that mathematically can make it inside of 8 days.”

“Ethan is handling civilian relocation, but we need to evacuate all stations in stellar orbit or they’ll be target practice. I don’t want anything manned down there.”

“What about the Star Forges?” Chad asked.

“They’re not going to be in stellar orbit. When the V’kit’no’sat arrive they’re to descend and hide.”

“They won’t know how long to stay down there if they go deep enough to avoid scans.”

“Then they stay down there until they have to resurface. I don’t want to lose them, and if we evacuate…check that. Get everyone off but a minimal crew, then they’ll take them down the moment the first ship is detected.”

“What about the Earth orbitals?” another Archon asked.

“Ethan will take care of evacuating those, but start making arrangements for the people on the surface. Get me Arch Duke Vectir.”

“He’s been waiting at your convenience,” a staffer said.

Rio placed his hand back on the sphere and linked in, taking control of the comm system and activating a portion of the hologram in front of him to display the Monarch’s image.

“What’s the situation?” the man asked stoically.

“You’ve been watching the live feed?”

“I have.”

“I think they’re going to bypass everything and head straight here, coming in through Schwartz like they used to.”

“That thought crossed my mind. What do you need me to do?”

“We’re going to have to evacuate the orbital population to the surface of all planets, and the more civilian help we get the better.”

“I’ll make sure people make room and conscript as many vessels as needed. Would you like me to tell them or would you prefer keeping them in the dark?”

“No need for a history lesson, just let them know a new enemy from coreward is coming here to knock on our door and they need to get beneath the planetary shields.”

“That should do. Is there anything else?”

“Nothing that we’re not already handling.”

“I’ll stay out of your way then. How much of a chance do we have?”

“With everything we have here, we can beat them with their old fleets. How much they’ve improved and how much collateral damage they want to make are the pertinent questions…not to mention how close their reinforcements are when they realize we’re not pushovers.”

“Collateral damage?”

“Meaning do they want to fight our troops directly or bypass them and start messing up planets. If we have to spread out to defend real estate then we can’t group up as much as we need to and things will get even more messy.”

“Let’s hope they’re as arrogant as their reputation states. And if not, I’m sure you can arrange a few pertinent insults.”

“If only it were that easy. Get everyone nice and cozy beneath the nearest planetary shield and we’ll try to keep this fight in space.”

“How long do we have?”

“At minimum 8 days. Probably considerably more.”

“That’s a lot of people to get down to the surface in 8 days, but it’s doable. I assume you don’t want the Galactica project activated for this?”

“Not unless we can’t evacuate the orbitals without it.”

“I’ll see that we don’t need to,” Vectir said, cutting the link after the last word so he could get to work immediately and not waste any of the precious seconds they had left, for while there were no vulnerable stations in Earth orbit anymore, even the strongest seda couldn’t hold out against the incoming fleet, so anything above the shields of any of the planets in the system had a big fat target on it, though the Arch Duke knew that Rio and Ethan would keep the V’kit’no’sat’s focus elsewhere, and as afraid of their impending arrival as he was, a part of him was also eager to see how the trailblazers and the empire they’d all been working to build these past centuries could fare against their unbeatable progenitors.

2

April 28, 3602

Solar System

Inner Zone

Rio had been spending most of his time on the bridge of the command ship he’d claimed from the 19th fleet and parked off the jumpline close enough to avoid lag penalties, but when the alert finally sounded it caught him in the bathroom. Cursing, he rushed out half a minute later then ran through the short distance back to the bridge and across to the command nexus before the first V’kit’no’sat ship arrived thanks to the preemptive scanning pulses they’d been sending out. They didn’t provide much in the way of a reflective bounce, but it was enough to give you a heads up that a ship was incoming.

When Rio linked in he was able to confirm that the Slip’n’slide pylons were powering up as planned, extending their IDF fields across where the V’kit’no’sat were expected to be making the end of their deceleration run based on information from the Mastodon System and others along the way, including the data from Schwartz that had arrived not so long ago. It was a guess, but the area covered by the Slip’n’slide stretched thousands of kilometers and he had put it outside their expected jumppoint, so the odds of them stopping prior to it were slim given the speeds they had been traveling when leaving Schwartz. Its star was larger than Sol, so he guessed they’d be braking like hell when they got here.

In mind’s eye and on the holographic display stretched before him, Rio saw the cylinder-shaped zone along a chunk of the jumpline light up, indicating the IDF field there was gaining strength. If enough power wasn’t applied to it the incoming speeds and masses of the ships would overload the field, for the gravity from the star still pulled on mass inside of it. The field simply redistributed that pull evenly across the entire field…which was why one couldn’t sit above a star and ‘float’ with an IDF. You’d be pulled down inside like normal, except you wouldn’t feel the gravity effect.

And neither would the V’kit’no’sat’s gravity drives once they hit the aptly named Slip’n’slide. A piece of very expensive technology with almost no use at all that the trailblazers had built and warehoused for a rainy day. Rio had gotten the confirmation message back from Schwartz indicating that they had shut down all traffic coming out of their system through that jumpline so no one else would come through and get caught in the trap, and now that there were ships detected to be incoming everyone knew who it had to be.

But they were a good 3 hours earlier than expected based off guestimates of jump speed from Schwartz, with the inaccuracies due to the fact that once the outgoing ships passed beyond the speed of the sensor pings following them no further data could be ascertained as to their acceleration duration or intensity. Had Rio known it would have been now he would have been here waiting, but his inopportune bathroom break didn’t catch him out of position, for the first V’kit’no’sat ship blur didn’t appear on the battlemap for a good 20 seconds after he arrived.

It was decelerating so hard that the stellar radiation being thrown off it was glowing with frequency compression, making the tiny specks of light far more dangerous than gamma radiation. In fact that level of radiation had to be classified on an entirely different scale, but the general term was ‘Sonazized Radiation.’ The V’kit’no’sat name for it was ‘Gamjonet’ and the amount coming off the first ship in was constantly changing in frequency as the impacts with the stellar radiation slowed down, but when it hit the Slip’n’slide they pegged out, indicating that the IDF was accomplishing its task and insulating the gravity drives from the resistance they needed to operate.

It what felt like a blink of an eye the ship was through and back into normal gravity effect but it couldn’t slow in time to hit whatever its desired jumppoint had been, blowing by it and heading in towards the star. The ships coming in right behind it suffered the same fate, but none of them were aligned side by side. Rather they were in a single file line very closely spaced but with a little sideways variation to avoid possible collisions…standard V’kit’no’sat interstellar jump formation…and that was putting less stress on the IDF than clusters of ships would have.

Rio watched with considerable surprise as the first ship slid into the outer layer of the star, disappearing momentarily on sensors before pulling back out rapidly with its shields taking heavy damage. Those behind it suffered similar fates, though not all fell all the way into the photosphere. Rio hadn’t expected them to go that far in, figuring the V’kit’no’sat navigational systems would have recovered better, but if they had been pressing their drives hard to get here with all available speed then they wouldn’t have much wiggle room to work with.

More streaks came in, resolving into ships just before braking hard to avoid hitting the star. On sensors they were quickly marked as Brat’mar, and with an eerie creepiness Rio knew why they hadn’t taken as much of a dive. The pyramid database was as accurate as a fortune teller, for while all V’kit’no’sat ship types were based on the same basic components and strengths there were some variations beyond the shape, and the Brat’mar were of a nature to build redundancy into their ships…which in this case meant slightly bigger gravity drives, typically only 3% over the rest of the V’kit’no’sat ships, but that same slight superiority was present in armor, shields, sensors, and any other system that contributed to their survivability. Weaponry was slightly scaled down to compensate, with the Brat’mar ships massing the same as the other Dak’bri battlecruisers, but typically lasting longer in battle due to their internal reinforcements.

The 18 mile wide discs looked like something out of the Independence Day movie, but Rio knew these could do far more damage…then suddenly another contact slammed into one of the Brat’mar ships, knocking both into the star and scattering debris with them that glowed as it burned up like fireworks heading into the giant wall of plasma.

More and more V’kit’no’sat ships came in quickly, sliding in close to or entering the star, but once they got themselves straightened out they began gaining altitude just as they were seeing the gauntlet of 853 Sentinel-class defense stations positioned around the bottom end of the jumpline.

With Ethan holding position further back, Rio kept his fleet of deployed drones with him and out of the fireworks as he mentally tagged targets for the Sentinels and his army of remote pilots worked through a touch of lag as they manned the various weapon systems and began shooting the first V’kit’no’sat ships to emerge from the star with huge Ardent beam weapons that made the more compact Bra’hem weapons shy away in shame. Star Force used the latter on their warships, but with the Sentinels ranging in size from 60 to 120 miles long, they had a lot more internal space to hold the machinery for the big guns…and to date, the Ardent beams were the most destructive ranged weapon Star Force had created out of the pyramid database.

And from the first few impacts against weakened shields from their brush with the star, Rio saw that the V’kit’no’sat ships hadn’t advanced to an untouchable level…for when six Ardent beams hit an Era’tran Domjo they punched through and hit the 12 mile long tuning fork on the central stud, putting a nasty gash into its hull armor that was quickly expanded upon by another hit before the ship accelerated too fast for the big beams to track.

Rio followed it and every other ship in his mind as the V’kit’no’sat regrouped so fast he had to grudgingly admit they deserved their reputation, but some of the ships going into the star weren’t coming back out and those that did were showing weakened or even sometimes fully deplenished shields…with Rio tagging those ships as primary targets, hoping to damage or eliminate them before the mass of ships arriving could stack up.

But the V’kit’no’sat didn’t wait. Whether it was strategy or rage, the first few ships coming out headed for the nearest Sentinel and engaged it at medium range, lighting up its massive shields with all manner of weaponsfire as the Sentinel’s own medium ranged weaponry came into play…and it wasn’t using Dre’mo’don’s anymore, save for point defense. Star Force, so long as it had ample hull space, had upgraded its primary brawling weapons to Tamec’o cannons.

It was ironic, that some of the ships now engaging it were also sporting the same weaponry, though based off of the initial stats his army of analysts were providing as quickly as possible, theirs were some 1200% more effective pound for pound, though the Sentinels had bigger guns that reduced that deficit considerably…plus they had more of them without having to worry about carrying crews. Every bit of the Sentinel was a remote weapons platform and hardened as much as Star Force could get them, with this one being 83 years old and upgraded as recently as 12 years ago.

And it was getting hammered. Its shields held up admirably, but they were draining fast. It’s only saving grace was the overlapping fields of fire from the other Sentinels that were within Ardent range, and there were so many red beams hitting the V’kit’no’sat ships they looked like pin cushions. The first Sentinel won its showdown by a slim margin, knocking out the 4 attacking V’kit’no’sat ships with just a sliver of shield energy remaining, but not 10 seconds later as red Ardent were streaking everywhere to target ships coming back up from the star, numerous Var’ko energy strings struck and penetrated the Sentinel’s shields, digging deep into its thick armor and coming from several Na’shor heading towards it with flanking Ti’mat.

The armor kept the beams from slicing it in half, but the pokes inside were not helpful as they targeted individual weapons rather than going for the guts of the station, plucking one offensive option after another until the Ti’mat swooped in and unloaded at almost pointblank range, duking it out with the Star Force Tamec’o, Dre’mo’dons, and even the anti-missile Ichods as they returned fire with their Uit streamers into the tiny cuts in the armor, burning through the thick plates while sending a stream of fire down between them that expanded like a grenade inside, wrecking everything beneath and spreading out laterally.

Rio saw system after system go down, but Star Force had built the Sentinels with multiple redundancies themselves and they wouldn’t stop fighting even if half the station suddenly disappeared. Each section was individually powered and kept hammering the V’kit’no’sat ships, defiantly refusing to die as fast as they wanted and allowing the other Sentinels to continue hitting them with their Ardent until the first Star Force defense platform finally died.

By that time the number of V’kit’no’sat ships in system had surpassed 1000 and Rio knew his turkey shoot was going to end quickly. Keeping an eye on the estimated abilities of the V’kit’no’sat weapons his analysts were shooting him while targeting ships, a huge blur shot through the Slip’n’side and punched into the star so hard there was a recoiling splash the size of a small solar flare…and he knew their Mach’nel had just arrived.

But when it finally came back out Rio’s adrenaline surged up another notch, for the massive egg-shaped craft typical of the J’gar had no shields and the hull was glowing white/green with radiative damage from the star. It must have punched in farther than the others, for those shields were amongst the most difficult to penetrate within the entire V’kit’no’sat fleet, not just the tiny fragment of ships coming here.

Suddenly every Sentinel within range redirected their Ardent beams and hit the Mach’nel as it came back up, targeting that glowing hull armor as it quickly cooled, returning to its normal green/black stone-like appearance but with obvious melted segments and small craters from the Ardent beams. The armor could soak up a lot of energy, but the Ardent were simply too intense and too large for it to shrug off and Rio could see they were doing decent damage to the hull, but not yet penetrating anywhere…and he hated being too far away to target individual systems, for sooner or later…

Then it happened. A thin orange beam leapt out from the Mach’nel and hit a fully intact Sentinel that hadn’t come under attack yet. The shields held up for the first shot, but the second punched right through and burnt through half the armor plates. Subsequent beams firing with an alarmingly short cooldown tore huge chunks out of the Sentinel as its seemingly pathetic Ardent fired back and barely scratched the Mach’nel’s hull as more of its weaponry came into the fight and targeted closer Sentinels that were already under assault, leaving the Tar’vem’jic free to take on targets of its own choosing.

Rio was watching the beam intensity numbers, seeing that across the board the V’kit’no’sat weapons were showing more power than during the Rit’ko’sor rebellion, but not with any huge advances and no new weaponry was being displayed. Their improvements ranged from 3% up to 42% on the Var’ko, and the big gun was running some 8% hotter than normal…but that meant these V’kit’non’sat were only slightly stronger than they’d been 102,000 years ago.

And that meant it was time to go in.

“Sic ‘em,” Rio told his remote gunners for the fleet of 63,000 drones stationed alongside his command ship, plus another 108,000 placed in four other locations nearby but out of weapons range. Using his Sav-enhanced mind he sent out approach lines and organized the attack in a matter of seconds while letting ship captains tend to the minor details.

Like a swarm of mosquitos, the Star Force drones accelerated hard heading in towards the star then braked soon after, pouring down in amongst the Sentinels but staying out of the jumpline itself as more V’kit’no’sat ships were flying through it off the Slip’n’slide. Rio’s command ship didn’t go in, nor did any other manned craft, but the controlling jumpships eased in closer as they remained in the back as spectators while the Sentinels continued to slug it out in a quickly escalating losing conflict…but they were doing damage and that was the point.

Now the V’kit’no’sat were going to have so many targets to pick from that someone was going to be able to get free shots at them…and he knew they’d go for the Sentinels, because they had the most firepower. That meant his fleet was mostly free to attack with impunity, but as he saw the Mach’nel’s shields go back up in a momentary blip he knew that attacking it was pointless. The more Sentinels it took out the less incoming fire it’d take, for it wasn’t moving in close enough to engage its medium-range weapons on additional targets…which was fortunate, but a choice obviously made so it could recharge its shields. Right now it couldn’t, but take out some more of the incoming beams and its recharge rate would exceed them.

At which point any firepower thrown at it would essentially be wasted.

That was why Rio suddenly ordered all his ships to ignore it, but kept enough Sentinels poking its shields to delay its entering the battle at closer range. The others he redirected to sniping targets of opportunity as the drone swarm began to get within firing range. Their Dre’mo’don and other weapons were inferior to what the V’kit’no’sat wielded, and the ships themselves were so much smaller they seemed horribly outmatched, but Rio and the other trailblazers had been taught how to use swarm tactics by the lizards over multiple centuries, and combined with Star Force rotational tactics…for what little they were worth with this much weaponsfire to contend with…meant that this wasn’t a desperate rush to defend their defense platforms as the V’kit’no’sat probably thought. It was a coordinated and well planned offensive designed to pick off ships before their full fleet could get here.

The carnage going down made the war against the Li’vorkrachnika look like a 7th grade basketball game compared to the varsity contest Rio and Sol found themselves engaged in…and winning.

He lost more Sentinels and drones than the V’kit’no’sat lost ships, but they had no choice but to stay and fight until the rest of their fleet arrived. By the time it did there was debris everywhere, and just when Rio thought they might be arrogant enough to reform and fight it out here and now, the Mach’nel made a microjump out followed by the rest of their fleet in such a display of navigational coordination that they easily disengaged from the Star Force ships even as Rio pressed his advantage and damaged a few more as they fled.

The V’kit’no’sat had just run from Star Force, and while that brought a smile to Rio’s face he knew this was only round 1, for they had pulled out to another position in stellar orbit and were holding there, reforming into a defensive formation that Rio recognized from the pyramid files. They wanted Star Force to chase them and fight it out away from the Sentinels…but Rio wasn’t going to fall for that and held his ships in place, hunting down what surviving V’kit’no’sat vessels there were and taking them out. In other situations he would have tried to recover survivors, but not today. He didn’t have the advantage and anyone he sent in to board those wrecks of ships could be killed by their crews, so he wasn’t going to bother with it…but he also wasn’t going to allow them to be recovered by their fleet or freeze to death, so he methodically destroyed all the remaining fragments of ships as his analysts took stock of the casualties.

The V’kit’no’sat had entered the system with the foretold 10,488 ships, 371 of which had never left the star after entering it, and the remainder had been trimmed down to 7,922, including the big prize that was the Mach’nel, but it had taken moderate armor damage, which would save a lot of firepower down the road, but its shields would be regenerating to full strength soon enough, save for the report that it had lost a couple of generators. That would weaken its protective shell, but wouldn’t cause any gaps in the shields…and it was just a matter of time before the V’kit’no’sat made the necessary repairs, for the Mach’nel had enough internal facilities to build all new equipment if necessary, making the huge ships almost impossible to whittle down via attrition, let alone a direct assault.

“Well done, boyos,” he said to all the Star Force personnel linked into the massive battlemap system that had operated flawlessly. “We just won round one, but they’ve still got their big chess piece and until they lose it they have the upper hand. So don’t get cocky on me. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”

3

When Mak’to’ran’s ship came out of its jump he immediately knew something was not right, for he stood in his command circle mentally linked with the Kafcha’s sensors receiving location pings from the other ships already on station and finding they were not where they were supposed to be, nor were they in formation. They were scattered on the very edge of the star and Mak’to’ran’s ship also braked to a position within the hazy stellar halo where he could feel the shields dropping slowly. To his horror he saw an I’rar’et ship pass by razor close and impact the star, quickly disappearing beneath the outer layer until the dreadnaught’s crew added enhanced sensors to Mak’to’ran’s mental vision, allowing him to see several vessels inside and climbing back towards space…

But they were not alone, for back up the jumpline slightly and out of the dangerous radiation from the star were hundreds of large contacts firing on the ships that had already arrived with Ardents. The rumors of these Zen’zat having Bra’hems had been woefully understated and he knew instantly that his ships were in trouble. Some were already attacking one of the Zen’zat ships, but from the overlapping firepower of the enemy his command had already been bloodied…and not from the contact he saw disappearing within the star, for at least one ship had not made it back out in time before its shields failed and its armor melted through to the interior.

Mak’to’ran’s Sav-enhanced mind worked quickly, and he was immensely thankful that his race had been gifted the psionic. Not even the Hjar’at had it, with it being something the long necks had held exclusively to themselves until the Era’tran had risen in prominence and they decided to bequeath it to them. Right now it was allowing him to issue orders to his crew, the other ships nearby, and to analyze the additional contacts further out along the jumpline that were responsible for their navigational woes.

He knew the significance of them as soon as the analysis came through, but it was still hard to imagine. The Zen’zat had created an IDF corridor at the end of where his fleet was attempting to brake against the star’s gravity when it was at its strongest, and denying them that had made them overshoot. Fortunately the gravity where they were now was even stronger and had allowed his ship to avoid hitting the denser stellar material, but not all his ships were so lucky and those that were coming back out from collisions with the stellar furnace were showing reduced shields at minimum, with a lot of them also carrying armor damage.

And the Zen’zat vessels were targeting the damaged ones, taking advantage of both the navigational mishap and the fact that the full V’kit’no’sat fleet wasn’t here yet. With a thought Mak’to’ran ordered the damaged ships to link up with others, drawing a pair of partially melted Hjar’at Na’shor to his command ship and extending their own shields out into a wider frontal barrier while relying on the other two ships for lateral protection. The Ardents began hitting his shields, but the dreadnaught held firm and the two Hjar’at warships began to regenerate their shields as he drew more ships to him, forming a cluster that reinforced one another and began to give the most badly damaged ships time to catch their breath all the while hundreds of Ardents were retargeting to hit the isolated ships…some of which were just dropping out of their jumps without a clue as to what was going on or why they were out of position.

Then to his continual horror he saw a Pas’cha Dak’bri battlecruiser run into another Era’tran Kafcha, with both shields popping like bubbles and the hulls denting against one another at the ‘slow’ impact speed. The Era’tran ship was pushed into the star along with the Pas’cha, and with their shields already down their hull armor began to eat away immediately.

Mak’to’ran knew it wasn’t their entry formation at fault for this, but the fact that the varying ships were decelerating at different rates due to slight differences in design and class. The Pas’cha had slightly weaker gravity drives, though almost identical to every other ship in the fleet, but that little deviation during emergency deceleration protocols when they couldn’t get sensor locks on the ships ahead of them meant they were all probably going to hit the star…and this one had dragged an Era’tran ship in with it, to both their deaths.

Mak’to’ran couldn’t lament on that, for he had to get the ships here organized and clear as much of the jumpline as he could not knowing where all of the ships were going to come out, but within a few seconds he began to get approximations based on ship class and design of those already observed. It looked like the Brat’mar were faring the best, but that also put them closest to the Zen’zat ships…which were now being updated as defense stations situated along the jumpline. The Zen’zat ships were stationed further off, out of the combat and watching the chaos ensue.

A masterful ambush, a piece of his mind thought as the rest of it was frantically at work trying to bring his fleet into some semblance of a fighting stance. Now there is no question that they must die, having bled their brothers, but at least they have acquitted themselves skillfully. We taught them well.

Mak’to’ran checked his fleet to see who was impacting the star and who wasn’t, trying to discern who the traitors in his midst were, but it appeared that all the ships arriving were doing so without proper deceleration. Either that was a deliberate ploy to conceal their part in this or the ships assigned to this mission didn’t know about the ambush they were walking into.

Just then the Mach’nel arrived, and with a streak of horror filling him he saw it hit the star at greater speed than any other, forgoing any thoughts of the J’gar having arranged this. They would never sacrifice such a ship as a ploy, and it had just punched deep into the star, so deep that Mak’to’ran feared the impact velocities alone.

As more ships arrived he tried to cover for them, focusing on taking out the nearest of the Zen’zat stations so that the Ardent beams would be less in number so close, but in order to attack the stations with their full weaponry he had to move his ships in closer…and that brought more of the stations into range, hammering his ships and triggering many losses, but he had no choice. If he did not hold his ground here and merely fled with the surviving ships then those still to arrive would be picked apart one at a time. Only as a group could they keep some of them alive, and the less stations the Zen’zat had the less damage they could do, so fighting was their only alternative and he hated/admired the Zen’zat for forcing him into this scenario. Those who believed them to be inferior members of the V’kit’no’sat would long rue this day, just as those who had said similar things about the Rit’ko’sor up until their skillful rebellion. Arrogance had its price, and the Era’tran commander was trying to diminish it here as much as possible.

When he saw the Mach’nel punch its way back into space he was both relieved and horrified, for it had no shields and was glowing from the extensive armor damage, but he knew that the Zen’zat could not take it out even in its current condition, so he ordered it to hold position and recharge its shields while weathering the Ardent coming its way to expand upon the damage. He specifically told the J’gar not to get any closer, citing the range limitations of the other stations, though it did send some medium ranged fire at the closest ones, helping to add to the current barrage from the reassembling fleet that was carving themselves out a foothold.

Mak’to’ran didn’t have to explain further, for the single weapon on the Mach’nel that could outdistance them immediately fired on one of the Zen’zat constructs and he knew he now was in a much better position, though still losing ships constantly. He continued to hammer the closest stations to the point where his arriving ships were mostly making it through, though the Zen’zat were still focusing most of their firepower on the damaged ships…and when the Mach’nel finally regained shields they wisely stopped assaulting it, thought their redirect began to kill more of the other vessels.

Mak’to’ran held his position long enough for the rest of his fleet to arrive, pushing up through more than a hundred of the Zen’zat stations at great cost as their warships finally decided to join the fight. They were small, but numerous and it wasn’t until nearly the end of his fleet’s arrival did he realize from battle damage being incurred that they were unmanned vessels.

Zen’zat did not fight in such a manner, and a quick check discovered heavy use of control signals emanating from larger ships stationed a fair distance off that had not entered the fight. They were the size of traditional V’kit’no’sat ships but of an entirely different design, somewhere between Dak’bri and Na’shor, but with huge empty chunks in their hull that apparently fit the simple block design of the attacking ships.

Mak’to’ran knew better than to stick around and fight them in the shadow of their defense stations, for there were too many targets to hit and a good portion of his ships had begun this fight weakened by their brush with the star, so once the last Lir’nen ship arrived he organized a fighting withdrawal out of the mess of attacking ships and had his fleet make a microjump around the perimeter of the star into a region that showed no enemy contacts.

It wasn’t until halfway there and the Zen’zat stopped their pursuit did he begin to recognize the reality of the situation. There were no more defense stations on the other jumplines. Only on the one that they had entered on, suggesting that the others had been moved there deliberately, but they were not the only ones in the system.

Further out around some of the planets were more, and with them numerous other stations and fleets. The blocky ships that had attacked them had many more of their kind spread out in clumps waiting for combat…and he saw many orbital constructs that would make for easy target practice, which was probably why those ships were stationed nearby them.

But as the sensor readings from across the star system continued to flow in he was aghast at how much the Zen’zat had built here. The proposed 2 millennia was a joke. This system had to have been constructed long ago to reach this level of development, for they had even heavily inhabited the unwanted worlds.

Very heavily. If these were all Zen’zat and Ter’nat, then this was a much larger affront to the V’kit’no’sat than expected, and who knew how many more of them were in other systems in this so called ‘Star Force.’ Mak’to’ran had stumbled onto something of far greater magnitude than he’d been led to believe…now he had to make sure they survived the immediate future long enough to recover his fleet’s strength so they could start working this problem from the inside out.

Fortunately the Zen’zat let them go. Had they pursued them additional losses would have ensued, but it looked like they were going to hold position near the stations and dare them to come back…and like clockwork he got a comm from the Hjar’at command ship.

“Garrtak, I am glad you survived.”

“Many others did not,” the stegosaurus said, his twin rows of spins glowing blue and spiking little tendrils of lighting in utter rage. “What is our target?”

“Information,” Mak’to’ran said, knowing that wouldn’t please the Hjar’at. “The Zen’zat set a clever ambush for us, but now that we’re here and recovering they cannot easily dispatch this fleet despite our losses. We will hold position and see if they are stupid enough to come to us while we analyze their full assets here. Our vengeance will be delayed momentarily, my friend.”

“Those defense stations need eliminated.”

“And they will be, but have you noticed how many ships they have around the system?”

Garrtak took a moment to respond as he referenced the data available to his mind through his own command circle.

“They are small, but their number is alarming. Especially if they have called for reinforcements. This ambush signals they knew we were coming.”

“It does, but none of our ships seemed to be aware of their clever navigational disruption. Not all hit the star, but we’ve all been bled here.”

“If one can betray us, they can betray their own race as well.”

“The Rit’ko’sor never did, but your point is taken. The Zen’zat may have arranged this on their own without their sponsor knowing.”

“Are we expecting to receive any ships along that jumpline?”

“No, we are not, but I do want those devices preserved for study.”

“Why?” the Hjar’at asked, clearly wanting to smash something…and probably a lot of somethings.

“Because we’ve never built anything like that. The principle is simple enough, but we’ve never made use of it.”

“Because it’s absurd. With a single scout you can determine the veracity of a jumpline before you enter.”

“We did not,” Mak’to’ran said firmly, with the deaths of his fellow V’kit’no’sat, and especially the Era’tran, foremost in his mind, “and they took advantage of our arrogance. It is clear these Zen’zat do not fight in traditional ways, so be vigilant to look for more treachery in both their strategy and equipment.”

“I will, I promise you that. But do not delay their destruction for a fact finding mission.”

“A delay is necessary. Do not think I am not angered by this, but we must move with caution else we will lose more ships.”

The Hjar’at’s mouth worked itself around as if it didn’t know whether to chew or speak, but eventually more controlled words came out.

“Your counsel is wise and we are with you, but we are eager to hit them back.”

“And we will, but first let us find out who it is that we are fighting. Are these just Zen’zat, or do you want to hit their sponsors?”

“Both.”

“And to find both we need answers.”

“How do you plan to get them? Their ships are unmanned and there is nothing near here to raid. All their constructs are guarded.”

“Not all,” Mak’to’ran said, sending Garrtak some coordinates. “There are a scattering of facilities that have been left alone.”

“If they were of value they would not be. Either they are expendable or they are another trap.”

“Indeed, they may well be. But let us take a closer look, and in the process get some data on their ships’ engines,” he said, contacting the other commanders and bringing them all into the same comm channel, seeing their now smaller holograms surrounding him.

“Continue analyzing all sensors and comm signal intercepts while we hold defensive position here, but I need scout teams sent to these locations,” he said, sending the coordinates to 13 widely spaced stations in higher orbits around the star and well away from any planet. “Expect a trap and explore carefully, but we need access to their technology and preferably their people. This is information gathering, not destruction, and if their structures are designed for Zen’zat then we will need to send Zen’zat and those who can fit in their spaces. The Ari’tar and Nak’ren will be sent with what ships you deem necessary, so long as you can contain your rage and acquit the mission per my instructions.”

“Separate targets or shared?” the Nak’ren asked, with its backward swept horns bracketing the quadruped’s wide head.

“Separate. All of us were bled today, and until I see evidence to the contrary I am assuming all in this fleet are loyal to the V’kit’no’sat even if your kin are not, so there will be no more questioning of loyalties here until we have firm evidence to the contrary. Is that understood?”

“Someone is to blame, Mak’to’ran,” the J’gar said, looking ill.

“Yes there is, and we need information to determine who it is, but do you believe they would send troops here to die in an ambush with such knowledge, or would they betray them as well to disguise their part in this?”

“Their race is still complicit regardless.”

“And what if it is your race? Should I hold you responsible?”

The J’gar’s eyes flared angrily. “After the damage we sustained you should not doubt us. Half my crew are dead and some will be unrecoverable.”

“And what if your leaders sacrificed you to cover their deceit?” Mak’to’ran pressed. “I will not hold you and your crew responsible for them seeing as how you have also been betrayed, and I will do likewise for anyone else in this fleet. We are brothers here despite what has been transpiring elsewhere, and unless there is treachery enacted by those in this fleet, all ships here are immune to retribution when we discover the sponsor of these Zen’zat on my order and it will not be rescinded. We are bled now, all of us, and that will speak for the loyalties here and cleanse any that had foreknowledge of betrayal. We are pure in this fleet until one chooses to sully that clarity with present actions.”

“You are far too generous for an Era’tran,” the Hjar’at said, but approvingly, “though I concur. Those sent here were betrayed by the betrayers, and when we discover what race is behind this they will be absolved of prior complicity so long as their current actions do not negate it.”

“Then we, as V’kit’no’sat, will uncover the treason here,” Mak’to’ran said with finality. “Ari’tat, Nak’ren, secure those facilities immediately in a manner of your choosing. The rest of us will remain here and watch how the Zen’zat fleet responds. If we can bait them in to fighting us away from their defense stations then it is to our advantage, but I do not think them to be that stupid. If I am right we have time to look, listen, and discover, so make use of it and probe the depths of the treachery found here.”

4

April 30, 3602

Solar System

Inner Zone

The Ari’tat gunships flew across from their Domjo to the Zen’zat station without resistance. The weaponry onboard it had already been destroyed along with the shield generators. The fight had been quick, for the station was barely 3 miles wide and had a paltry spread of weapons, but sensor scans were showing no one onboard. The Ari’tat didn’t know if this was a trick or meant that the weaponry had been controlled remotely the same way their unmanned ships had been, but all cautionary scans had been taken ad nauseum and there was nothing left to do aside from either destroying the station or boarding it…and they weren’t going to get many answers from analyzing debris.

When the gunships came close to the hull, intent on cutting through to the interior, the hangar doors suddenly opened up. Nothing came out, but it seemed that they were being invited inside. The Ari’tat leading their own Zen’zat onboard the gunships held off, doing even more scans, but when they failed to detect any traps they sent one of their 7 gunships ahead to probe for threats up close.

When it landed safely and subsequent scans from inside revealed nothing amiss, the others followed it in and set down on the deck. If the rogue Zen’zat thought they could vent the atmosphere and kill the boarders they were going to be disappointed, for all the Ari’tat and their Zen’zat came off the gunships fully armored and with adhesion traction enabled on their feet so a sudden gust of wind wouldn’t pull them out into space.

But when Damni walked out onto the deck with his tiny steps taking forever, as he refused to hop in order to maintain constant traction, nothing happened. No emergency venting, no hidden weapons popping into view, no deck plates exploding…the hangar was just empty, without so much as a ship or crate in it aside from those the V’kit’no’sat had brought. Apparently this station had been abandoned before they arrived in system due to its lack of adequate defenses, but someone was obviously still in control of it else the hangar wouldn’t have opened on its own unless instructed to do so in some form.

“Go,” he ordered to the four Zen’zat accompanying him, mentally pointing them to one of four exiting doors while the other two Ari’tat from his gunship did likewise with their towering Zen’zat. If there was going to be a fight the knee-high Ari’tat would not be at the center of it, rather staying back and shooting from their compressed Dre’mo’don that required charges to be gathered in order to deliver a powerful enough hit from their tiny armored suits. It was equivalent to what the Dre’mo’don mounted on the arms of the Zen’zat had, though theirs could fire rapidly. The Ari’tat could not given their small size, but they were not here for the combat, rather for the investigation of the station.

It was a joke amongst many V’kit’no’sat races that the Ari’tat were weaker than the Zen’zat, but for this mission it was a blessing for the larger races would have had trouble moving about in the corridors that Damni now entered. They were clearly designed for Zen’zat to move around freely, but with a head height that no Era’tran could have endured without discomfort. For once the Ari’tat had an advantage as the others could only have sent their Zen’zat in, but Mak’to’ran had been wise in giving this station to the Ari’tat to plunder…to which end Damni had his team searching for any type of control center or computer system core.

They had generic blueprints from the sensor scans, but now that they were inside the station it was clear that it was not V’kit’no’sat construction. Everything was different, though with a similar feel here and there. The technology used was V’kit’no’sat, but refashioned in an odd way that bespoke of blasphemy. These rogue Zen’zat were not just operating beyond their mandated borders, they were eschewing everything that was of their empire while still reaping the benefits of it…and that disgusted the Ari’tat to no end.

Upon further exploration, the results of which all teams shared with each other and those watching from afar, the purpose of the station was quickly determined…it was a rescue/repair facility to deal with stellar traffic and there were many blueprints for vessels of both this Zen’zat make and others within their empire, as well as those of passing travelers, but none for the warships. Also, there were more blank spots in the files where the Ari’tat determined essential data had been removed. Somehow these Zen’zat had expected them to board the station, for the deletions had occurred days ago.

“Looking for something?” a voice said in V’kit’no’sat, prompting Damni to spin around seeing an unarmored Zen’zat standing behind him with the Ari’tat’s guards aiming their weaponry at him, both their forearm gauntlets and a couple of heavier rifles they’d brought, but a quick look with Pef’bar determined the individual to be nothing more than a hologram.

“Identify yourself,” Damni said, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the anger surging through him, both at the previous ambush and the twinkling gray eyes of the hologram.

“I am Ethan-014. And you are?”

“Your death if you do not give me the answers I seek.”

The rogue Zen’zat spread his arms wide in an impish gesture. “You’re free to try, Ari’tat, but you’ll find we’re harder to kill than you expect. Nonetheless I’m interested in talking. Let’s start with the part where you’re here to wipe us from existence and how no matter what we do or don’t do the result will be the same, thus making your threat quite hilarious.”

“Do not mock your superiors, Zen’zat.”

“Pointing out the truth of the moment isn’t mocking, and you’re an Ari’tat. ‘Superior’ doesn’t really suit you, now does it? They let you board the station because some of them wouldn’t fit, didn’t they? What exactly are you looking for before blowing everything up?”

“I will ask the questions, Zen’zat, not you.”

“I am not a Zen’zat. I am an Archon.”

“Your pathetic delusions do not shield your identity. Who is your sponsor?”

The Zen’zat’s eyes narrowed into a frown. “Sponsor?”

“Who gave you this colony and technology?”

“Gave us? No one gave us anything. We built it all ourselves. Did you think we were V’kit’no’sat?”

“All Zen’zat are V’kit’no’sat. Where did you originate from?”

“Here, and I believe we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. You’re here to kill us for some other reason, aren’t you?”

“We are here because your presence was revealed by your enemies.”

“Who?” the ‘Archon’ asked, obviously displeased.

“Those called the Li’vorkrachnika attacked one of our worlds and are currently being annihilated for their audacity. We plucked the knowledge of your existence from them, though I will give you credit for successfully hiding out here so long. Did you really think you’d be allowed to operate with impunity forever just because you were beyond the border? That is stupid thinking even for Zen’zat.”

The Archon’s shoulders slumped heavily and his face took on a look of disbelief.

“They attacked you? First?”

“Unwisely so.”

“Those dumb bastards,” he said, pressing the palms of his bare hands against his forehead as he bared his teeth in obvious anger. “Of all the…son of a bitch!”

“Who is your sponsor?” Damni repeated.

“Oh my gosh, this is like the biggest facepalm in history! They actually attacked you? What, like a little world or did they just go straight to a big one and get wiped out?”

“Answer me, Zen’zat.”

“Why, if you’re just going to kill us all…and by the way, for the record I just did. You just don’t want to accept the answer.”

May I? one of the Zen’zat asked Damni telepathically.

The Ari’tat looked up, quite perturbed at her arrogance, but perhaps a different tactic would be advisable. With a thought he gave her permission, then the Zen’zat took a step closer to the hologram as her helmet retracted, showing a tattooed chin and stark red hair that extended out a few inches from her extraordinarily pale scalp.

“You claim to be born of this world?” she asked him.

“I was,” Ethan answered, sizing her up. She was tall like all Zen’zat were, 7 feet 9 inches based off the hologram’s measuring system, but the markings on her face were unknown to him. Perhaps something added after the Rit’ko’sor rebellion…or she just liked the design.

“What Zen’zat bore you?” she asked, with the treason of that very sentence rolling off her tongue awkwardly.

“My mom wasn’t a Zen’zat. In fact, I can’t answer that question for you. The history of our world has been lost for some time. We only rediscovered the past fairly recently, but it’s a pretty safe bet to say that when you guys evacuated this world during the Rit’ko’sor rebellion you left a few Zen’zat behind. I’m guessing they didn’t like that very much, decided to break the rules and start creating younglings, for here we are now. If you have another theory feel free to present it, but we’re pretty sure that’s how it went down.”

The red-haired Zen’zat exchanged a glance with the Ari’tat, then looked back at Ethan’s hologram.

“How have you advanced so far? You must have had help.”

“You mean these?” Ethan said, pointing to his eyes.

“Among other things, yes. How old are you?”

“1581.”

The Zen’zat’s face scrunched up in confusion. “How have you achieved Mvor in such a short length of time?”

“A combination of heavy training and sharing psionics.”

“Sharing?”

“We learned how on accident, but so long as one of us can gain it naturally we can do some telepathic tinkering to symmetrically trigger the same ascension in another. And don’t bother to call it treason, because we’re not V’kit’no’sat and we’re not bound by your rules, and yes, we know, you’re going to kill us all for that, blah, blah, blah. My question to you is why you’re bothering to search our stations rather than just blowing them apart?”

“It is believed you were put here by a sponsor race to cheat the boundaries and rules regarding Zen’zat.”

“Oh we’re cheating the rules, that’s for sure, but we’re doing it on our own. You lost all authority over us when you left our ancestors here to die, so we’re charting our own course now.”

“How do a few Zen’zat know how to build all this? I couldn’t if I was left behind.”

Ethan smiled. “You’re a much better diplomat than your short friend there. Ari’tat do seem to forget that we can kick them across the room at will, don’t they?”

The Zen’zat’s stern demeanor broke ever so slightly as a curve of a hastily suppressed smile broke her face.

“They have more territory than others, and for good reason. If there is combat needed on the ground that is what we are for. So you claim to have built this entire empire by yourselves, including the advanced weaponry used to shoot the ship I came here in?”

“Yes, and I would apologize for that…except for the fact you came here to kill us all. Knowing that, I have no regrets about destroying as many of your ships as we just did.”

“There are far more where those came from.”

“We know. I admit our records aren’t up to date, but we know the approximate size of the V’kit’no’sat empire. And if you choose to leave now we promise not to follow you back there.”

“Now who is being arrogant?”

“Not arrogant. Simply stating that unlike those idiot Li’vorkrachnika we had no intention of attacking you. I know you don’t care about that and we all still have to die, yadda, yadda, yadda, but it’s worth noting anyway. You’re coming onto our territory to kill us, not the reverse.”

“What is ‘yadda?’”

“It’s a generic term used to represent other stuff that you don’t feel like taking the time to detail.”

“Zen’zat serve the V’kit’no’sat without exclusion. If you do not hold to that duty then you deserve to die.”

“Except that I was born from Zen’zat, and I’m denoted as having to be destroyed regardless of any decision I make. If we decided to come back and report ourselves to the Ari’tat or others, say a year ago, what would have happened?”

“That is not for me to say. I serve, I do not lead.”

“You know the answer though. We would be exterminated, even if I didn’t have these eyes.”

“Do you think they will save you?”

“If I had to fight you personally, perhaps. Though at the moment I think I’d much rather kiss you, but your little sidekick superiors wouldn’t allow for that, now would they?”

“I wouldn’t allow for that.”

“Hard to get, huh? Don’t worry, we’re not the settling down type. It’s all training and fighting for Archons. The rest of the Humans…that’s what we call ourselves since we’re not Zen’zat or Ter’nat…do the reproducing. We’re too busy getting stronger to bother with it.”

“Then Archons are your warriors?”

“Best warriors. We have others, of many races too. And we’re all going to kick your ass every chance we get as you try to exterminate us, so expect heavy losses even if you succeed.”

“Your technology is impressive, but it’s not up to date.”

“Close enough to get the job done.”

“How much did they leave you with? I thought the planet’s colony had been destroyed prior to evacuation.”

“We found some buried stuff not long ago. Everything else had been wiped from the surface. It’s taken us quite a while to figure out how the technology works…and we’ve made a few improvements. One of which you experienced on the way in.”

“That was basic IDF technology.”

“Which was never applied in this manner, correct? Or have you made some strategic upgrades lately?”

“Your new technology will not work a second time, for we now know it exists.”

“It served its purpose.”

“So it did. And if there was ever any doubt as to your fate, the losses you have inflicted upon us have now sealed it.”

“Oh come on, our fate was already sealed. We have nothing to lose and you got your ass kicked, just admit it.”

“How did you know we were coming if a sponsor didn’t inform you?”

“We have interstellar communications, or did you not bother to notice them on the way here?”

“But that was recent. Why did you construct these IDF devices earlier?”

“Because we thought they might come in handy someday.”

“You expected to be discovered?”

“We did eventually, which was why we didn’t pursue those dumbass Li’vorkrachnika closer to the core. We needed as much time to advance and grow as we could get until you came back to claim your lost colony…and just out of curiosity, were you guys ever going to do that or had you permanently abandoned the old frontier worlds?”

“They exist beyond the mandated boundaries, so you were safe here in anonymity. Pity your attempted purge of the Li’vorkrachnika pushed them in our direction, else you might not have been discovered.”

“Pity from a Zen’zat? Almost sounds like you’re rooting for us?”

“It’s a pity you didn’t have time to grow stronger, for no matter what happens in this battle the wrath that you have incited will flow out from our territories and wipe you from existence with little effort. As a warrior I would prefer a bit more of a challenge. Fortunately here and now I do not expect us to wait for reinforcements. We have sufficient strength to destroy you, though it will be a contest rather than the expected slaughter.”

“Just curious, how old are you?”

“18,923.”

Ethan tilted his head back and forth as if mentally weighing that figure.

“Not bad. What skill level?”

“Zardaku 24.”

This time Ethan’s smile was so wide it showed all his teeth.

“That’s it? Damn, you guys really do slack off with no one to fight, don’t you?”

“And what is your level, or do you not even measure by those standards?”

“I’m aware of them, but we don’t use them. I’m an Archon ViLord 498. In a year or two I’ll hit Frieza 1, though I’m not sure how much of a delay our fighting is going to cause me. We actually advance slower in combat than we do pure training. As for where that would put me in Zen’zat levels, somewhere around Tamrenor 84.”

The red-haired Zen’zat’s eyes widened, and Ethan nodded his confirmation.

“Not lying, sweetie. I’ve been training all my life to prepare for the day you guys came back to kill us, and I’m not the only one. Leave now and we’ll let you go. Press your attack and you’d better hope we feel like taking prisoners. We usually do, but with you guys it’d be pretty hard to pull off without getting more of our own people killed. That said, we do like a challenge, so there’s a tiny chance you and I could get together for a little interrogation date later…but no promises.”

“If you have questions, ask me now. I have no need to lie.”

“Alright. What did you mean by sponsor?”

“We worried that one of our own races was on the verge of rebellion and had been creating an army of rogue Zen’zat beyond the border to assist them. If you are speaking the truth then such fears were baseless. If you are lying, we will discover who the sponsor is eventually.”

“So that’s why you’re looking for information.”

“Some of which you deleted prior to abandoning this station.”

“Personal rule, never give up more than a kiss on the first date…though I don’t actually date, so that’s more like a theoretical personal rule. Yeah, theoretical personal rule. I’m sticking with that.”

“You certainly don’t speak like a Zen’zat.”

“Too much awesomeness? I’ll admit to that.”

“How many psionics do you have?”

Ethan smiled. “You’ll have to find that out the hard way.”

“So be it.”

“Do you have a name?”

“I do, but it is of no use to you, for you will not live long enough to need it.”

“Are you saying our conversation is over? I was just starting to like you.”

“Ours is, yes,” she said, disappearing as the holo channel was hacked and his vision of the station was replaced with a view of a massive Era’tran standing in a sea of neutral black and looking down on him.

“I am Mak’to’ran, and if you wish to talk you will do so with me, for I hold your fate.”

“Fleet commander then?”

“Indeed, and had you been following the orders of another race I was prepared to spare you. This circumstance that you claim was not anticipated and I require additional information.”

“All the more to better kill us with?”

“No Zen’zat were abandoned on this world. The records indicate full surface destruction and a subsequent evacuation of the aquatics.”

“Our records say the same, but here we are nonetheless.”

“Then if you are not aware of your origin, the possibility that you have been planted here by someone after the fact cannot be discounted.”

“Fair point, but we’ve had no contact with anyone in the V’kit’no’sat. Everything we’ve built we’ve done ourselves, and I know that because I’m one of the few originals that have done the building.”

“You are too young.”

“We didn’t discover our buried legacy until around the time I was born. We’ve just built really fast since then.”

“Too fast,” Mak’to’ran said, “which is why I do not believe all that you are telling me.”

“But you believe some of it?”

“Your eyes do not lie.”

“They could be, if I altered them to look like Mvor.”

“But you would not know of it unless one of you had achieved it. Tell me of this sharing you discovered.”

“Well, let me save you some time. You’re already analyzing our public records, so you’ll have noticed that the majority of our population acts more like Ter’nat than Zen’zat. That’s because they’re descended from Zen’zat and you’ve never experienced that. I will let you know that with subsequent generations the basic psionics go dormant. We had to unlock ours through intensive training and they didn’t always develop properly. There was an anomaly in a pair of twins that we were able to replicate, thus using one’s status to trigger the other.”

“So your ‘Humans’ have lived as Ter’nat until the discovery of rubble? Then you have advanced so far in less than 2,000 years to counter us both psionically and navally? Do you truly believe that we would fall for such a paltry ruse?”

“Not a ruse, but I think you’re going to have to figure that out for yourself so let’s just make this official before we start killing each other en mass. You came here to annihilate us and you’re not going to change your minds, correct?”

“Zen’zat cannot breed. If you had been proper Zen’zat following orders I could have spared you, but you are an abomination that must be destroyed regardless of your source. And if you are proper Zen’zat lying as to your origin, then tell me now or you will suffer the fate of your lie even if it is exposed later. This is the only chance I’m offering you to right yourselves.”

Ethan threw his hands up in helplessness.

“Sorry, but I was born here and am not a proper Zen’zat.”

“Then your fate is sealed.”

“Isn’t that a bit unfair? After all, I didn’t choose to be born.”

“It may not be fair, but it must be done to maintain the purity of the V’kit’no’sat. Zen’zat cannot breed. It is the price of their potential, and if they violate that trust then their offspring will suffer the consequences along with them. You bear their treason, now in addition to your own for the ambush you set for us.”

“If we’re going to die, then we’re going to take as many of you bastards with us as we can,” Ethan promised sternly.

“You may try, but it will be a far less a number than you hope. You no longer have the element of surprise.”

“Oh trust me, we’ve got a lot more in store for you.”

“Do your worst, little Zen’zat. It will not save you.”

“Today is a good day to die. Let me know how that works out for you,” Ethan said, then his hologram cut out from Mak’to’ran’s view, leaving the Era’tran with nothing but cold rage and confusion. He did not know what was happening here, but he was going to find out.

And when he did, regardless of the truth, these arrogant Zen’zat abominations were going to be destroyed no matter what the cost.

5

May 2, 3602

Solar System

Inner Zone

“All indications are that the Archon spoke the truth,” the Zen’zat commander for the Hjar’at said in the holo conference between V’kit’no’sat commanders, with the absence of the Voro’nam Oprachem. He had been killed in the battle with the defense stations when the tiny enemy ships entered the fight, but the rest of the commanders remained along with his appointed replacement.

“You refer to the rogue Zen’zat as Archon for a specific reason?” the Era’tran asked.

“I do. Their information nets are still active, and while there is a possibility of misinformation contained within them I feel that they are not restricting what is already public knowledge on the assumption that we have already scouted them out and accessed the information previously. Based on it, I do not believe these Archons were ever trained as Zen’zat. There are some correlations, as if they have had knowledge from us to pick from, but the largest deviation is their size. They are Ter’nat sized, and I do not believe they should be referred to as Zen’zat, nor should they be expected to behave as such.”

“They fight differently,” the Hjar’at agreed. “The use of remotely controlled ships is curious.”

“We have ascertained the location of the control signals,” the Zen’zat continued. “They originate from the larger ships that did not enter the fight, and we speculate there will also be control signals emanating from the planets when combat occurs over them. Delay of signal is a key factor here, so their controllers must be within a reasonable distance from the battle. We recommend these be high value targets.”

“Surely their ships will not deactivate with loss of signal,” the J’gar stated.

“Unknown. We are analyzing battle data in an attempt to determine how to block them, but until we are able to we will not know the result. There may be contingency programing, but if it was as effective as remote control then they wouldn’t bother with the heavy signal blanket.”

“How heavy?” Mak’to’ran asked.

“Very. All their ships are constantly broadcasting to one another, including some beam transmissions that we physically blocked with line of light crossings.”

“Can we take control of their own vessels?”

“Theoretically yes, but unless they are reckless they will have prepared for such countermeasures. I do not think such a tactic will be useable in the near future. We will require battle to test this.”

“That will be forthcoming,” Mak’to’ran promised. “What have you learned of their origins?”

“1600 years. Prior to that this empire did not exist and they were confined to this single world. Once the economic organization under the label of ‘Star Force’ emerged their technological advancement skyrocketed and they quickly secured control of the planet while spreading out to others. They were nearly destroyed by the Li’vorkrachnika, then rose to such a strength to conquer their original territory and drive them towards the core. Aspects of their technology are more primitive than ours, even if not counting the advancements made post Rit’ko’sor rebellion, while others are comparable. Their signal complexity rivals our own.”

“It would need to be,” the I’rar’et commander pointed out, “if they wanted to fight us with weapons rather than warriors.”

“They rarely lose Archons, and their other lesser forms of troops are also preserved at high effort. Foremost among them are Knights, which are Zen’zat size, but they appear to have no psionics. After them are Ter’nat sized fighters referred to as Commandos, and they are the basic troops their empire relies upon, though most are not what they call ‘Human.’ They have incorporated several hundred races into their empire, foremost among them as the Bsidd. They reproduce alarmingly fast and in different forms. No special abilities, but they are augmented with decent armor and training. They are not viewed as expendable. Nothing living in Star Force is. They also do not consume meat and have fought several small wars to stop others from doing so.”

“At least they’re civilized,” the Oso’lon commented, though his tone held very little love for the rogue Zen’zat. “Have you divined a purpose to their expansion?”

“They have been growing in size rapidly, but they are only attacking those that give them provocation. They are not blanket conquering for territory. They have an altruistic skew to their actions that betrays pragmatism. I believe we can bait them into attacking if we put some of their people in jeopardy. They are rabidly loyalty to one another and not willing to make sacrifices of the living, though they have been known to prudently sacrifice their ships. They preserve them if possible, despite their small size, but when pushed into an appropriate situation they will expend them accordingly…but only the unmanned ones. Their ‘jumpships’ carry what they call ‘drones’ between systems, thus reducing the size of internal drives and making them more volume efficient. The jumpships are the weak link.”

“How well armed are they?” the Hjar’at asked.

“Fair, with Bra’hem and an unusual weapon called a ‘Bloon Launcher’ that slowly sends a massive ball of various energies in a containment shell to target. If allowed to hit, it will do significant damage and they can alter the contents based on need.”

“Are Ardents the limit of their weaponry?”

“The jumpships do not appear to have them, only their defense stations and probably surface batteries. There is no record of anything stronger, but there is also very little data on the weapons, for they appear to have been a recent addition to their arsenal. However, we have found something truly disturbing. Something that even we do not possess.”

“What treachery have they conceived?” the Oso’lon asked.

“There appears to have been a race that preceded us in the galaxy that was wiped out, but their greatest weapons were too powerful to be destroyed. The victors captured, contained, and sedated them across the galaxy where they have laid dormant until recently. Star Force has acquired the ability to control them by unknown means and has been collecting them in a region they refer to as the ‘Uriti Preserve.’ It is a collection of star systems where they keep the weaponized versions of Hadarak.”

Not a word came from the assembled commanders, for none of them could conceive of what had just been said. Eventually Mak’to’ran asked for clarification, but even he was at a loss for words.

“Explain.”

“The story goes that the elder race captured a Hadarak and forced it to spawn, and that these offspring are what they altered. Each is unique with varying powers, and they were used to destroy the systems of their enemies. Star Force has pledged never to do that and has been collecting them from across the galaxy. Thus far they have held to their word, but many advanced races that we have not come in contact with are at this Preserve and monitoring them to make sure that they do not leave it, for they fear the power that could be unleashed at Star Force’s direction or randomly, for when one was awoken accidentally it went on a rampage that could not be stopped. Only Star Force was able to bring it to heel, for they knew how to issue it the orders of their masters, thus ending the rampage and convincing others to give up their dormant ones to their care.”

“There is the heart of the treachery,” the J’gar said firmly, though even he was visible shaken, “and the reason one of us would dare to violate the mandates. These are not the actions of rogue Zen’zat abandoned on this world long ago. This is one of us working in secret through them, and they mean to use these Hadarak to strike at us.”

“How close is this Preserve?” Mak’to’ran asked, suddenly worried.

The Zen’zat produced a holographic map that appeared virtually between them all in the simulated room, though in reality each of them was onboard their various ships.

“We now have a fairly complete map, though the rimward expansion region is not detailed. We are here,” he said, highlighting Terraxis, “and this is the Preserve.”

A tiny cluster of systems a fair distance away illuminated, and based on the speed of Hadarak Mak’to’ran knew they could not travel that expanse quickly enough to be of concern to his fleet here.

“Are we certain they are all still there?” the Hjar’at asked.

“There are many eyes on them, unless these records have been faked. They seem to have made the Preserve into a tourist attraction for the public, which doubles as weapon demonstrations for any who would doubt Star Force’s ability to control them or the destructive capability that they wield at their beckon call.”

“You said weaponized?” the Oso’lon asked.

“These Hadarak are smaller, but they have been genetically altered to produce weapons that we have never seen in the original Hadarak. As far as fleet combat or orbital bombardment is concerned, these ‘Uriti’ are far superior, though they do suffer from lack of mass. There are also not very many of them. The current count is only 21.”

“What of their armor?” the Les’i’kron demanded.

“The equal of the Hadarak at minimum. Perhaps augmented as well. Star Force does not display their defensive capabilities, only offensive, so what information available is rumored accounts from the rampage that occurred far out in the rim where the first one was collected.”

“How many more are out there?” the Oso’lon asked.

“Unknown.”

“Are they breeding more?” the I’rar’et asked.

“Of course they are,” the J’gar all but snapped. “This entire empire of theirs is nothing more than a research project. They are learning to replicate these Hadarak and experimenting with Zen’zat. They mean to create a force to conquer us, but we do not know who is responsible! Has there been anything uncovered hinting at outside help beyond their remarkable advancement rate?”

“Nothing that we have recovered so far,” the Zen’zat said apologetically. “And I would suspect that if they are lying as to their origins, they will have concealed the truth from their own people. We would need access to a major facility or individual to learn the truth.”

“Then that is what our mission has just become,” Mak’to’ran said angrily. “If one of these Hadarak shows up here we will not engage it, and if my ship should be destroyed you will follow this order and withdraw. They are not something that we can counter with so few ships, for unless they are stupid these Archons will not send them against us unescorted. Right now our primary mission is not extermination, for we cannot risk killing the answers we need to find. Where in the system do you suspect we can garner this information?”

“Their capitol is the most likely source, but there are several other locations that make for viable targets. The second planet in the system is devoid of most civilian habitation, as is the first, but the second appears to be heavily invested in construction and logistics.”

“The atmosphere is toxic,” the Hjar’at said, looking at the data from his end. “And they have full planetary shields. We need something less fortified.”

“The outer planets are a curious mix of subfactions within Star Force that are self-contained empires in their own right, referred to as ‘Clans’ that these Archons rule over. The empire as a whole,” the Zen’zat added before they could ask, “is the product of a Ter’nat named Sean Davis. He is currently alive and leading rebuilding efforts in the rim expansion region along with other leaders. The Archons have 100 that they refer to as ‘trailblazers’ who have built their military from its inception. The one named Ethan that was spoken with is number 14 of their breed and has personal command over Clan Qrow. The Clans also appear to hold the most elite troops within Star Force, Human and otherwise.”

“Are they Ter’nat, Zen’zat, or a mix?” the Oso’lon asked.

“Most are Ter’nat sized, but have the musculature of untrained Zen’zat. We suspect all have been bred from Zen’zat genetics but without further augmentation for the general population. This makes them neither Ter’nat nor Zen’zat, but we have confirmed the general population does not have psionics. Those appear to be reserved for the Archons alone.”

“They are reworking everything,” the J’gar said angrily. “And one of us is responsible for this.”

“Perhaps not,” the Brat’mar said, thinking dark thoughts.

“Who else could do this?”

“Those we have destroyed.”

“The Rit’ko’sor? Are you serious? They never had the technology to even attempt this.”

“Perhaps they are working with someone who does not have the luxury of being unwatched,” the Oso’lon floated. “Perhaps their rebellion was just cover for an element of them to disappear to the rim. Their reason for mounting that futile assault has never been adequately determined.”

“They despised us,” Mak’to’ran dismissed casually. “That was reason enough to strike, and they did enough damage to satisfy their vengeance. Someone is behind this and it is more recent, otherwise these Uriti would have been collected long ago.”

“Which means one of us,” the J’gar repeated.

“I am forced to agree, but let us not turn hostility against one another in this fleet. Most likely the betrayers would not send anyone here with knowledge for us to extract. The true traitors are sitting back in our territory and will be weeded out when exposed. We will not pursue their entire race to destruction.”

“That is not our decision to make,” the J’gar countered.

“I am giving my personal protection to all in this fleet. If the Elder council wishes any of you destroyed, they will have to go through me to make it happen. We are comrades here, and I will not betray that trust out of fear or panic. What we have uncovered is beyond dangerous, but we are warriors. We do not overreact. We analyze and adapt to the threats before us. We will discover the treachery, root it out, and eliminate the threat in due time. Anyone with aspirations to the contrary, relinquish command to a subordinate now, for I will not tolerate incompetence nor forgive panic.”

“We are not panicking,” the Hjar’at said, with Garrtak’s words sounding as strong as stone to the assembled leaders. “We will follow your command and deal with this treachery as you see fit. Where do wish us to strike?”

Mak’to’ran looked towards the J’gar. “You will recommend patience. How do you see that transpiring?”

“These Archons have weaponry that can hurt us, but we have a range advantage. Let us use it now to pluck these defense stations or to force them into a fight without them. We need to limit their safe havens to run to.”

“I concur,” the Les’i’kron stated.

“As do I,” Mak’to’ran agreed. “Once the investigators complete their analysis of the captured stations,” he said, looking to the Hjar’at, “destroy them.”

6

May 4, 3602

Solar System

Inner Zone

Rio and Ethan were both onboard command ships that were poking around the Inner Zone of the system but staying far enough away from the V’kit’no’sat fleet cluster in stellar orbit to not endanger themselves, though they needed to be close enough to their drone fleets to avoid the signal lag that would effectively make them bystanders in the next conflict. So far the V’kit’no’sat had done nothing more than comb over their captured stations and then destroy them, with both trailblazers expecting them to take further action soon.

That action soon came in the form of their ships breaking up mostly by race and forming dozens of smaller fleets that left the Mach’nel behind with only 483 ships. The other fleets scattered on different headings, but the Mach’nel didn’t hold position. It was headed back slowly towards the Sentinels on the incoming jumpline.

“Thoughts?” Ethan asked, suffering through a 3 second lag in their holographic conversation.

“They’re being overly coy yet arrogant at the same time. I think they want to hit something without us knowing what it is.”

“You know what the Mach’nel is going for.”

“And they want to draw our ships to it, leaving other targets exposed.”

“How do you want to play this?”

“If they stay out of range and use their Tar’vem’jic we either have to fight them and waste a lot of drones or let them kill the Sentinels. We’re boxed into a corner there,” Rio said grimly.

“I know. If we wait for it to get to Earth we’ll have lost most of our defenses. We’re gonna get our butts kicked one way or another, but I don’t think we’ll be able to take it out.”

“I agree. It’ll just jump away before we can make the kill and toast any interdictors we throw at it.”

“Then we have to ignore it and target its escorts. It’ll stay and fight while they die, correct?”

“It’ll be interesting to see either way. We’re going to have to bring in more drones to cover the rest of these fleets. Which one do you want?”

“It’s not one if they’re spreading out. We’re going to have to rely on second gen to keep them from hitting a soft target, and even then I think they’ll punch their way in somewhere.”

“We need to use the drones to assault the Mach’nel. Anything bigger will just be wasted with their one shot kills.”

“Maybe two shots,” Ethan corrected him, “but your point is valid. I’ll take the drones, you pull down a summon and pick a fight with the others if they don’t force one.”

“Oh I think they will. How many interdictors do you need?”

“Just a handful. Take the rest.”

“Thank you, I will,” he said as he watched the updating tracks of the V’kit’no’sat ships as they began to spread out across the Inner Zone with some heading for what looked like Jupiter and beyond. “You might want to consider spreading out the Sentinels, either as bait or to delay the Mach’nel from sniping them all down.”

“I’ll adapt as I go. You better get going.”

“Watch for a backdoor. They’re going to figure out our battlemap system pretty quick.”

“They’re not getting me that easy, though I hope they take the bait and try.”

“Be careful. We still don’t know their full capability yet.”

“I’ll err on the side of caution. You…” he said, cutting off as both of them saw it.

“Titan,” Rio agreed. “Time your counterattack as close as you can.”

“Go,” Ethan ordered, breaking their comm.

With a thought, Rio ordered a piece of his fleet of drones to break from the main group that would be falling under Ethan’s command and set them on courses to a jumppoint for Saturn, though they were going to have to swing past Mars to get the necessary alignment for a fast jump. The moon of Titan was the planet’s largest and had a mix of Mainline and Clan colonies, with the Angry Chipmunks holding the largest chunk of the planet. What was unique about it was its orbital constructs.

There were several large stations, but one in particular was so large that it amounted to the size of a small moon, though it was stretched out like partial ring around Titan, wide and fat but more or less flat. The Angry Chipmunks had built it as an experiment in orbital topography, creating surface-like dirt, rocks, rivers, and mountains on an actually flat plain that could be inhabited in an open air environment with redundant shield generators to contain a breach if it ever happened.

It was seen as a luxury within the system and a way to give the inhospitable environment on Titan a makeover without actually trying to terraform the planet. There was so little sunlight available at this distance that it would be difficult to get the surface temperature up to Earth-like levels even with heavy alterations, so the Angry Chipmunks had decided to build a bit of ‘new’ moon in orbit and colonize outdoors there.

When the Clans had abandoned their civilian populations ownership of the ‘Ribbon,’ as it was called, was transferred to Mainline while the Clan still retained some sectors of the 6,398 square miles for their own use. The facility itself was defended along with everything else around Titan and in orbit of Saturn, but the flat shape made its shielding inefficient and an easy target. Combine that with the amount of people and open space inside and it was definitely a soft target either to destroy or board, and if the V’kit’no’sat were looking for information then taking this bit of planet that existed beyond the planetary shields made perfect sense…in addition to the three different mini-fleet tracks that could easily cross paths and give them triple the amount of ships that currently appeared to be headed in that direction.

The trailblazers only recognized that addition because it was a somewhat standard tactic the V’kit’no’sat used when they were outmatched…which was rare aside from limited resources. Their empire was so huge that sometimes they’d dispatch a single ship to destroy 10,000 and it was times like that they had to get clever, with a large playbook that the trailblazers had read cover to cover, so they could see the two nearby feints that were in position to reinforce the obvious primary.

Rio didn’t know how many other targets would get hit or if they were all a diversion to pull ships away from reinforcing Titan, but he knew where he was going to head and he was going to need backup above and beyond the drone fleets and Sentinels in orbit of Saturn.

The trailblazer accessed an extremely rare function in the command nexus, bringing up a simulated landscape on which he was standing. It was empty yet pristine, with the ground being perfectly smooth blackness with nothing visible other than tiny pinpricks of stars above.

He raised his fist into the air and looking up at a particular star, for no other stance and eye line would activate the password he was about to speak.

“Shiva,” he called out, and after three seconds of silence five massive smooth shards of ice fell from the sky and impacted a point before him, fanning out like a flower as a figure floated down from above that was just as clear as the ice, but as the bare legs descended into the center of the ice flower she began to materialize into pale white/blue skin wrapped up beneath a deeper blue shawl. Her hair was long and clumped together into blue dreadlocks accentuated by golden brackets and rings.

When she landed she was fully formed, then pulled an arm across to her shoulder and ripped the shawl off, throwing it from her body and breaking the ice pillars around her into thousands of fragments that flew out and passed through Rio’s body without harming him, leaving only the nearly naked Shiva from Final Fantasy standing before him in all her natural beauty. She walked a few steps towards him then swept a hand across from left to right, materializing a mist of frostiness that resolved itself into a series of icy spheres, 38 in total.

Rio tapped on one of them, turning it from clear crystal into pulsating blue light.

“Summon,” Rio said, with Shiva taking the single orb in her hands and gently cradling it against her abdomen before pushing it inside her until it melded with her body. Her eyes took on the blue glow and she threw her head back, arms spread wide…then the hologram disappeared and Rio was back in the command nexus onboard his ship.

Far below the system plane where most of the planets orbited Sol, a remote location received an activation signal that was absorbed by the sensor-stealthed wall that spanned thousands of miles. It was meant to keep any reflective signals from bouncing back to the heart of the system, making it look as if nothing more than a tiny bit of blackness so far away that no one would notice with even the most intense scans, but that wall also absorbed and registered the summon signal that was relayed to the dry docks on the other side.

These were not a shipyard, but rather maintenance facilities that stored and occasionally upgraded the ships docked on the tiny rod-like spires emanating out from the far side of the wall. At present there was no one here, though facilities for crew were established within the structure to house those that would make the periodic checks and upgrades, having been shuttled here through cloaked Ma’kri and other means to avoid giving away the location of the Shiva platform.

On the automated signal one of 38 sections activated, bringing to life the drones docked there…but these were not standard Star Force drones. These were larger and specifically made to fight the V’kit’no’sat along a particular tactical avenue. For the Shiva platform that was an augmented shield matrix far superior to what standard drones carried and only made possible by the size of the ships, which ranged from 1 mile up to 6 long and were appropriately shaped like ice shards and coated with a Dvapp-inspired crystal armor outer layer that gave them the gleaming clear surface befitting their theme.

The group of ships numbered 620 and slowly but simultaneously undocked from the structure and floated free behind it, then using mooring beams to give them a little physical nudge they eased up above the sensor wall and came into view of anyone watching…though the very weak sensor bounces coming off wouldn’t reach their receivers before the ships did as they began slowly accelerating into jumps headed directed for the star using the limited gravity at this range.

Bit by bit they picked up speed, getting closer to the star and soaking up more of its gravitation tug to advance their closure rate on their weaker gravity drives, for they were not jumpships despite their size. They were designed with sufficient movement capability for insystem deployments but didn’t waste the extra hull space for additional jump power. They were designed to defend this system and only this system, with every aspect of their construction being a counter to the V’kit’no’sat ships, including their greater size that the standard drones could not match.

The ships from Shiva continued on a predetermined course straight for the star until their acknowledgement ping went out to Rio and he responded with a set of coordinates from them to come to. The ships were functioning on autopilot and altered their trajectory towards the star at the opportune moment to get a slingshot effect that sent them out towards Saturn at high speed. When they eventually entered their long braking maneuver there the local remote pilots assumed command over the big, icy vessels and broke up their fleet, sending individual ships to different places around Titan which made the formation spread out like a cone on approach before they began rendezvousing with the standard drones, jumpships, and command ships already in position near the Ribbon or beside other orbital facilities.

A few dozen Sentinels were also in play, but mostly out of position save for the two closest to the Ribbon, one of which had already been destroyed by the time the Shiva ships arrived. The other was still actively fighting the combined forces of Brat’mar, Kar’ka, and I’rar’et vessels that were poaching many orbital stations while more of their kin had already broken through the Ribbon’s shield and landed troops inside while their ships kept Star Force reinforcement teams away, giving them possession of the Ribbon and a decent naval advantage as additional drones from nearby defensive assignments showed up to even the odds.

The arrival of the Shiva ships was totally unexpected, and as soon as they were folded into the fleet composition Rio brought the heavy end of the hammer down on the V’kit’no’sat ships that now had to defend their position at all costs or abandon their troops inside. He had them at a disadvantage until they could pull some of their other fleets here, and he was going to make the most of the short window of opportunity that he had while Ethan was slugging it out with the Mach’nel half a system away down in stellar orbit.

7

The Tar’vem’jic’s orange beam stretched across some 180,000 miles of space and slammed into the shields of the Sentinel, whose own Ardent could not return fire that far away. The Mach’nel and its escorts were not approaching, rather holding at that range and letting the big ship mount the assault alone while the nearby Star Force fleets watched. The second beam shot hit and was also repulsed, for Ethan had previously reformatted the shields so only those facing in the direction of the V’kit’no’sat were powered and thus reinforced, but it was only a delaying tactic. The fourth shot pierced what remained of the upper shield and slammed into the armor, vaporizing meters of it in a shower of gaseous debris that marked the location of the undefendable attack.

More orange beams came in one at a time from the unseen attacker save for the tiny spec on sensors that the weak gravity drives onboard the Sentinel could not hope to reach, leaving it a helpless victim whose middle and lower shield matrixes were also penetrated and the armor beneath them blasted away. Ethan did note that three of the massive beams missed the station as they tried to target specific sections of it, for they didn’t have the help of the shorter ranged weaponry to pulverize the structure that they’d learned could still be combat operational even with moderate damage. Thus they had to take their time and pierce it repeatedly if they wanted it totally out of commission, but after some 18 minutes of bombardment they stopped, leaving its more or less intact floating carcass drifting inside an asteroid field of its own making as the fragments continued to expand in radius around what was left of the superstructure…then the V’kit’no’sat fleet repositioned slightly and opened fire on the next closest one.

“Smart bastards,” Ethan muttered, realizing the bind he was in. The V’kit’no’sat weren’t going to quickly punch holes in the Sentinels then run in to finish them off with their mass of weaponry. They were just going to sit patiently as their big fat chess piece slowly took them apart one shot at a time.

“Listen up,” he said, addressing all the remote pilots that would be operating the combined fleet that would soon be going in, for they had no choice but to stop this before all those Sentinels were needlessly lost. “Do not waste any shots on the Mach’nel. The only way we can kill it is to mass fire, and we’re not going to try that now. Our objective is to kill or damage as many of the escort ships as we can. All control ships will stay outside of Mach’nel range no matter what. One shot from that thing and you can kiss your jumpship goodbye. I expect them to send something to take us out, so this is going to be a mobile fight and that’s why I want us spread. If the Mach’nel comes your way, set the drones to auto and run. Don’t wait for me to tell you.”

“The Mach’nel is currently surrounded by mostly aquatics vessels, so any hull penetrating shots are going to hurt them worse than others. Water isn’t so easy to replace as air is, so even a single breach will have a disproportional effect. Concentrate fire on the smallest vessels then work your way up. We need kills people, and don’t expect them to just sit still and let us take them. They’re going to cycle, so we gotta be smart about this. Remember to keep your drones in between the Mach’nel and your target if possible so they have a friendly fire situation to work around. Keep it tight and hot, otherwise you’ll make easy target practice.”

And with that, Ethan gave the order for the microjumps and 8 different fleet groups began accelerating towards the remaining V’kit’no’sat fleet in stellar orbit while the other enemy sections were out doing whatever across the system. That wasn’t Ethan’s concern now and there were plenty of ships elsewhere to deal with them. His focus was the big one picking off the Sentinels, which he also ordered to start repositioning. They couldn’t move fast, but there was no need for them to stay on the jumpline anymore for the Mach’nel to shoot down at the same time. If Ethan spread them out it’d delay their destruction or might even invite the other V’kit’no’sat ships to come in and eliminate them…in which case they could at least do a little damage before they were destroyed. Right now they were a total waste so long as the Mach’nel could outdistance them.

Ethan’s command ship followed the drones in, traveling with six other jumpships that stuck in close proximity as the others in his fleet broke off and headed to different points on the perimeter. The other fleets did likewise, leaving clusters of jumpships at 270,000 miles from the Mach’nel and what should be outside its effective range. That added up to about a second or so of lag, but Ethan’s pilots knew how to handle that by targeting points on the enemy ships and letting the drones pull the trigger. Unfortunately that was the best they had to work with, for putting manned ships within range of the Mach’nel would be literal suicide.

Then again, leaving themselves with so few ships of their own…only 483 to cover the Mach’nel…was inviting a fight. Ethan knew they wanted to be hit or left free to destroy the Sentinels, and the only reason he could think for that was a distraction so their other fleet segments would face less opposition or because they wanted a chance to hit the jumpships. This fight was going to be messy and he was going to lose far more than they were, but he was going to do damage. As arrogant as they might be, after that first confrontation both sides should have learned what the other was somewhat capable of, meaning that either they uncharacteristically didn’t care about taking losses or they were so incensed by the ambush they just wanted another fight that badly.

But there was a creeping sensation on Ethan’s spine that he couldn’t shake that said something else was in play, but the only way to find out now was to engage…and in a few minutes from their departure jump they would be.

Drones and jumpships were moving around the star system constantly, repositioning from planet to planet to counter the V’kit’no’sat movements, leaving him with a drone count of just under 400,000. That was nearly a thousand drones for every V’kit’no’sat ship ahead of them, and if this battle turned into a slugging match with no one running he could possibly lose them all.

The good thing about having a fleet of ‘tiny’ ships was that the big enemy ones couldn’t chase them all down. Order them to scatter and run and almost all of them would get away, so Ethan had the option of cutting and running more than the V’kit’no’sat did…and he intended to surround them in a way that would cut off their escaping jumplines so they couldn’t run except through his drones, damaging themselves on the way. The Mach’nel could weather that, so he doubted he was going to get a chance to pin it in place even if the rest of its escorts were not there, which was yet another reason why it was such a pain in the ass to counter.

But it was one ship and could only be in one place at one time, so right now he needed to thin the V’kit’no’sat ship count so Star Force would have the upper hand in fleet movements rather than having to scramble to cover multiple targets simultaneously.

Ethan had the smallest drones, the cutters, flying in ahead of the rest. They were easy kills, but if the V’kit’no’sat ships targeted them it would spare the larger ones a bit longer…which was why they completely ignored them and targeted the heavy cruisers and scattering of battlecruisers first off.

But those he had with their shields full forward and nearby auxiliary shield ships to help soak up damage, taking the brunt of the incoming weaponsfire and surviving it in the first few seconds save for the Tar’vem’jic that ceased firing on the Sentinels and started hitting multiple drones with single shots as Ethan tweaked their alignments along where it was shooting to help avoid overlapping targets, for the beam was so powerful it punched through shields, armor, hull and kept on going to whatever else was behind it.

With the cutters and corvettes being ignored, Ethan’s pilots drove them into the defensive formation the V’kit’no’sat were sitting in and shot between the gaps, drawing fire from the lateral weaponry that otherwise couldn’t shoot at the approaching ships, but also forcing the V’kit’no’sat to even out their shields a bit. They couldn’t put them full forward like most of the drones were, otherwise the smaller drones could hit them in the rear…and they were coming in such high numbers that their combined weaponsfire would be able to punish them if they did.

When the approaching bowl-shaped formation slammed into the V’kit’no’sat sphere and merged with the outer edge, the Mach’nel near the top began to move through it to the front where it could engage with all its weapons and soak up damage by making itself an easy target, but the Star Force drones didn’t fall for it. Not a single shot landed on it as they flew around the big shark like schools of tiny fish…as the Era’tran ships on the backside of the formation quietly repositioned to the flanks and made microjumps away from the fight.

“Here they come,” Ethan said unnecessarily, transmitting only to his group of jumpships so the lag wouldn’t cause any confusion, for the Era’tran were accelerating so hard this close in to the star that they covered the distance in seconds, braking just as hard against Sol’s gravity and coming out remarkably close to 36 different jumpship clusters, including Ethan’s, with two or three ships each.

Immediately Ethan detected jamming fields popping up and 3 of the 11 means he had to control the drones failed. All he needed was one, so there was no disruption in the combat, but it was now obvious that the V’kit’no’sat were testing the strength of the control signals in an attempt to find the Achilles heel of their fleet structure even as they opened fire on his command ship from a Kafcha and a Domjo.

Ethan immediately had his ships make a jump of their own, which disrupted their control ability momentarily, though other ships would pick up the slack if needed and the drones would continue on automatic commands issued just prior to the jump by Ethan and the others who reacted instantly to the appearance of the Era’tran. Almost as soon as the enemy appeared the Star Force ships vanished as a lateral jump was made, keeping their distance from the Mach’nel the same but not letting themselves get baited into fighting.

The Era’tran ships pursued, however, and their speed was at least the equal of the jumpships and his command ship, though not so superior as to give them the ability to close to weapons range easily. Ethan kept redirecting his group, hampering their ability to direct the fight and relying on the jumpships groups that were not being engaged to carry the load…which was why he’d had them split up into so many groups earlier.

And as long as these Era’tran ships were pursuing them they wouldn’t be killing drones, thus making those currently engaged live a bit longer and take some more V’kit’no’sat ships with them as Ethan called for a section of those engaging to pull back, some 630 drones, and brought them out to him as the other jumpship groups continued evading as planned.

Ethan stopped his fleeing when they met up with the drones and his jumpships popped out their own that they’d been holding onto, increasing the count to 1054, as he quickly brought them into a battle formation and dared the two V’kit’no’sat ships to strike.

To his surprise they did, with the big dreadnaught heading straight in to fire on a jumpship but having drones partially block it. The Var’ko sliced through the open conduit and hit the jumpship’s shields that were focused heavily into that corridor as it fired back with its bloon launchers and green Bra’hems…then the Kafcha got rammed by four drones. The impacts were so slow that no dampener shields activated, or maybe the Era’tran got caught off guard, because when shields met shields the gravity drives on the drones pulsed and did a ‘one inch punch’ version of naval warfare, sacrificing their structural integrity as their shields breached and they physically pushed against the Era’tran’s shields until they popped…though there wasn’t much left of the drones after they did to hit the hull.

The impact shoved the dreadnaught off its trajectory and one of the cutting beams sliced through a destroyer rather than hitting the jumpship as Ethan’s command ship shot forward, drones parting to make way, and unloaded every weapon it had on the now unshielded behemoth before it, targeting specific points on the 36 mile wide monster and plucking weapons and shield generators before the return fire could eat through the command ship’s shields…specifically those that held the V’kit’no’sat dampening generators.

Ethan knew he was putting himself and the jumpships in danger, but they only had two ships to contend with and had the advantage of movement…plus he needed to know what the fat Era’tran ships were capable of. With the command ship and the surrounding drones peppering the exposed sections of the hull and ripping apart defense mounts rather than randomly shooting the thick armor to break through to the interior, they utilized the blueprints on file that exactly matched the Era’tran ship before them…telling them exactly where to strike.

As soon as enough of the dampening shield emitters were destroyed, Ethan had drones flee the engagement only to turn around and jump through corridors in the beehive surrounding the enemy ships. They impacted the dreadnaught fast enough that Ethan couldn’t even see them, only the huge reverse direction mushrooms of debris that splintered out as the drone masses hit the armor and punched through it.

More drones came in on kamikaze runs, hammering the Era’tran ship so hard that it turned and ran despite its massive size advantage. The Domjo, which had been mostly ignored as it tried to get to one of the jumpships and was being kept at bay with a wall of drones catching fire in between, flew up into position over top one of the largest holes and extended its shields to help cover the dreadnaught as it moved out through the surrounding drones, having to push some out of the way to get clear, but Ethan ordered the others to give it room…for he didn’t actually want it to stay and fight to the death, for it could probably take some of his people with it.

The Era’tran vessel managed a slow jump out, hurt badly but still with navigational options as the untouched Domjo, about half the size of the jumpships, kept pace with it as if it expected Star Force to try to land a finishing blow.

But Ethan didn’t send the drones after it or pull others away from the main fight, though he did keep an eye on it as he relinked with the main group and his pursuit was no longer interfering with their ability to direct the fight…though he noticed that the ships in the main brawl were now all emitting jamming fields trying to disable the drones. He just hoped they didn’t get clever enough to detect and interfere with all 11 channels, though the 11th was really a short range last option, in that it required a direct line of sight beam that needed the precise coordinates of both to operate on, meaning there were really 10 channels for this type of combat that would have to be blocked, and right now the V’kit’no’sat were still letting 7 through.

Apparently they figured that out as well, because they were not committed to losing the bulk of their ships in this fight. After doing a good amount of damage to the drones the escorts began jumping out closer to the star with the Mach’nel staying behind to provide cover fire. It was the last ship out, but before it left it fired on the remains of several partially destroyed V’kit’no’sat ships, completing their destruction and insuring that no prisoners could be taken. Once it completed the cleanup while shrugging off the weaponsfire now totally directed towards it, the J’gar vessel made its own jump out and left the rubble field behind.

Ethan did not order a pursuit, but rather sent drones out to assist the still evading jumpship groups that the Era’tran had not completely let go yet. The trailblazer sensed some frustration on their part, for the Star Force ships wouldn’t stand their ground and fight, continually evading them with just enough navigational prowess to avoid the Era’tran getting targeting locks, but they did finally break off when scores of drones came towards them, perhaps fearing a repeat of the tactics used to damage the other Kafcha.

Regardless, they jumped away and reformed with the Mach’nel…only to see that fleet split up into even smaller groups that then headed towards the spreading Sentinels.

“So be it,” Ethan said, realizing they weren’t going to give him a chance to catch his breath. They were going to hit the Sentinels directly now that they couldn’t overlap their fields of fire to such a degree as before. This was what he’d hoped for, but now he had to move quickly else all he’d gain from it was some shield loss or light damage to the V’kit’no’sat ships…and the Mach’nel was heading towards a target of its own.

That one he’d have to let go, but the others were going to be hit and probably done so quickly, not allowing the drone fleet to fully engage…and Ethan was going to have to split them up, reducing their numerical advantage, which was more a threat to the controlling jumpships than anything else.

But this is what the naval division had been trained for, and if the V’kit’no’sat wanted to fight in the shadow of the Sentinels then so be it. With the drones spread they couldn’t threaten the Mach’nel, so it was going to kill all the Sentinels one by one anyway, but they’d have to keep the other ships engaged in order to prevent another massed assault just like the previous one…and the V’kit’no’sat now realized that Star Force was going for their ‘smaller’ ships and not the Mach’nel, and they intended to make them pay for it.

But Ethan was going to exact a price for those destroyed Sentinels, and no matter how much of a navigational advantage the V’kit’no’sat had, he had more ships to move around and herd them with, meaning he was going to kill some more of them…regardless of how many drones he had to burn to do it. There were heavily guarded factories in this system producing more, not to mention other fleets in nearby systems on their way. It was the V’kit’no’sat that had a limited number of ships for this assault, assuming they hadn’t arranged for reinforcements, and thus far Ethan hadn’t seen them send a courier back asking for help…nor were any long range signals possible unless they’d reestablished a bit of their comm network this far out prior to coming here, which he doubted.

All of which meant that they were probably on their own here and choosing to fight them without reinforcements, possibly to accumulate data on their new enemy, and probably at least a bit because they were irate. Regardless, they weren’t taking time to consider their options. Whatever plan they had, they were working it quickly and Ethan had to keep up else give them another advantage to work.

And with them having so many already, any slip-up on his part would cost them a lot more drones and perhaps some ship crews, though so far they were clean on that count. None of the jumpships or command ships had been destroyed or damaged, save for a few scratches on his own hull where the shields had momentarily failed.

Ethan didn’t know how long they’d be able to keep that clean record, but so far the trades in losses were acceptable…despite the carnage of drones and Sentinels now spread across two locations in this system, neither of which they had time to clean up, and there were about to be a lot more in the varied locations they were racing to now, all of which had to be tagged as ‘no flight’ regions on the battlemap so ships didn’t jump through them and kill themselves on the impromptu mines.

8

Rio’s fleet arrived at Titan prior to the Shiva ships, picking up the handful of command ships and jumpships that had fled when their drones had been overrun. Rather than stick around and do a little more damage as they died, they’d made the right choice of running and had even managed to draw off a few V’kit’no’sat ships to one of the nearby Sentinels, taking refuge there and getting the enemy to dive into their firing zone. One Brat’mar ship had been damaged before fleeing, but it had been unsuccessful in destroying any of the Star Force vessels…though a jumpship had its docking array half destroyed, but the crew inside were still safe.

It repositioned along with the others in Rio’s fleet as they gathered, drawing in more and more drones from across the Saturn microsystem and surrounding the Ribbon that they were forced to watch get boarded, for if they engaged too quickly they’d be wasting drones. They had to gather their strength before they struck, and Rio wasn’t going to wait for the Shiva ships to arrive before he started doing some poking…taunting the V’kit’no’sat ships out now that their range limitations were nearly the same as their own.

There were several short-lived scraps that did damage to both sides but with no V’kit’no’sat kills prior to the 620 Shiva arriving with their bulk still smaller than the average enemy ship, but far larger than the drones that reformed around them. Now Rio had vessels that could soak up damage, especially with the shield ‘element’ they were designed with. They also contained Ardent, given their larger hulls, while the best the drones and jumpships had were Bra’hem.

Rio’s command ship had the smallest Ardent Star Force had built to date, but the Shiva ships had those of equal size to what the Sentinels carried, though less in number. When Rio brought all of his ships in towards the V’kit’no’sat in three different groups and began firing at them from range they didn’t have the luxury of sitting back and weathering the storm…for while they could pick off drones fairly easily, the Shiva ships were not going to go down fast and the Ardent they carried packed a hell of a punch.

Add to that, their shields had been configured to mitigate some 40+ percent of the damage from Var’ko, and could be adjusted to several other preplanned modes if needed to counter specific V’kit’no’sat weapons, making them even harder to take out…and if the V’kit’no’sat focused on them, the regular drones would be free to sting them to death en mass, leaving the assembled ships the choice of fighting it out and potentially losing most of their number or running away and leaving their boarding parties stranded while they called for assistance.

They chose the former, but Rio wasn’t going to let them stall this out long enough to get reinforcements from the other attack groups roaming around the system and hitting a myriad of targets. He took his Shiva augmented fleets, tweaked their formations to his liking, and rammed them down their throats just above the Ribbon. Apparently afraid that weaponsfire might damage it and their troops inside, the V’kit’no’sat ships drew the battle away laterally and Rio obliged, coming in close enough with his command ships to enter the fight and drawing several I’rar’et ships around in a flanking maneuver to get at him and the other jumpships stationed further back.

But they weren’t that far back this time and opened fire on the flankers, making them either leave Rio’s command ship alone and cross the distance to them or weather the storm of their Bra’hem and Bloon launchers as they tried to take out the source of the remote control signals. Seeing that the command ship was the smaller of the vessels they opted to go to it, but Rio just dove further into the fray and cycled back several drones, including two of the smaller Shivas, to cover for him while the jumpships pounded the I’rar’et, who had to come to an almost complete stop to target him.

Then came the hard part. His move was mostly a bluff, but the I’rar’et were calling it, choosing to go in hard and risk getting themselves killed in order to take his ship out. Rio could either try to run through the drones and let them peel off, or he could try and delay the ships inside the inferno long enough for the drones to make the kills…and the I’rar’et ships were so big it was going to take a lot of pounding to do it while most of the weaponsfire was focused ahead at the rest of the V’kit’no’sat fleet.

Rio did the mental calculations several times…then brought in a wall of drones around his command ship and dug in, ready to take massive hull damage as he unleashed hell on the I’rar’et.

Taking command of hundreds of weapons batteries nearest him, Rio coordinated strikes on the I’rar’et ships, knowing better than the other gunners where exactly to hit and when. One of the Shiva ships slid into position partially obscuring the command ship when its shields went down, but allowed it to also return fire while regenerating at least a section of shields. The I’rar’et were split about which vessel to target, then opted to try and run up alongside the command ship at pointblank range ignoring everything else.

The Shiva ship moved out, coming head to head with one of the I’rar’et Dak’bri that was easily 3 times its size and made out of more advanced technology, but the advantage the Shiva had in addition to its specialized shields was the fact that it held no crew…with no huge chunks of hull space taken up by air and living quarters. It was a 100% pure ass-kicking machine, and wasn’t going to budge from its position as the ships exchanged weaponsfire at less than 3 kilometers distance…with as much of the I’rar’et weaponry targeting the command ship around the Shiva as possible.

Meanwhile the smaller drones were firing at the I’rar’et vessels, all 18 of them, as they tried to work into other flanking positions. Rio backed his command ship up slowly, with his drone swarm moving to accommodate every move he made and blocking the I’rar’et in order to buy time without causing them to flee. The V’kit’no’sat shields were coming down in places, allowing Rio to target weaponry but they didn’t care. Already there were large gashes in the command ship and some of the transmitters that connected Rio to the drones were going offline…intentionally he thought…but there was so much redundancy packed into the giant donut that it was going to take a hell of a lot more pounding before he couldn’t control the ships right next to him.

Two I’rar’et Ti’mat, of similar size to some of the Shiva, tried to push through the smaller drones and flank Rio’s position from behind, but either they miscalculated the damage from the drone swarm or didn’t expect the Shiva ahead to double back, for they suddenly found themselves within firing range of the command ship but having their lines of fire blocked almost entirely as 12 Shiva of varying sizes moved up upon them and blasted away with their short range weaponry.

The I’rar’et had nowhere to run to, so they tried to ram their way to the command ship only to find so many drones ramming them back that they couldn’t make much headway…then one went totally kamikaze and blew through three cruisers and two destroyers, shredding itself in the process only to impact the dampening shields on the backside of the command ship, which stopped the debris cold at the cost of a huge amount of energy.

But that energy wasn’t being taxed because the I’rar’et weren’t attacking on that side of the ship, so the I’rar’et’s final desperation maneuver was blocked entirely…then when the second Ti’mat saw its impending doom and tried to follow up before the dampening shields were fully regenerated, hoping to get some damage through, it made a microjump that sent it…nowhere, for a trio of support interdictors had made their way through the drone swarm and up next to it, generating an IDF field so large it covered the entire 4 mile wide Ti’mat, neutralizing its engines while other drones put themselves in front of the shield ships as Var’ko cut through them, trying to sever the impediments to the I’rar’et.

The Ti’mat managed to get two of the support ships destroyed before its own gravity drives were hit by Ardent beams coring into areas of hull that had already had their armor burnt off, so when the third ship was finally destroyed there wasn’t enough engine power left to make a kamikaze jump and the I’rar’et were left to die surrounded by enemy ships with no recourse other than to take out as many of the drones as they could before their vessel finally broke up into inert fragments.

Rio continued to lead the frantic battle, taking heavy advantage of the jumpships outside as they came in closer and continued to pound the reverse side of the other I’rar’et ships with bloon strikes that heavily damaged their shields, but his command ship and those guarding it suffered heavy losses as they kept him and his crew of remote pilots alive and operational, taunting the I’rar’et into staying and fighting and, ultimately, dying. All but 5 of their ships clawed at his vessel until they were reduced to junk, with the remainder realizing they weren’t going to be able to finish it off and trying to make their way clear.

Two of them were so badly damaged they didn’t make it out, with the other three pushing their way into clear space and getting hammered by the jumpships as they made emergency microjumps away from the battle, shields down and hull glowing where their armor had been hit, along with numerous deep craters where it had been fully penetrated.

Rio breathed a sigh of relief, entombed in a ship that was half destroyed but with the interior core still intact and operational, sending out guiding signals to the sea of ships around him as the main fight was continuing to take place further below, with both sides taking heavy losses. Star Force was losing far more, but they had numbers on their side and eventually forced the V’kit’no’sat to retreat before all of their ships were destroyed…and with incoming reinforcements still hours away. They would probably regroup and hit them again, but Rio also had more drones coming his way from other planets to counter them.

He added to it by summoning another Shiva cluster, knowing it would take a lot more time to get here but he needed to lock down naval superiority around the Ribbon if he was going to deal with the troops onboard…and the problem was that the giant Star Force construct had not been fully evacuated prior to the attack. Most of the evacuation ships, ranging from large transports to dropships, had been sent to Earth orbit and successfully cleared it of the thick bands of artificial habitation that were presumed to be easy targets for the V’kit’no’sat. Earth had been their colony, and thus should have been their focus for the invasion, leaving the other worlds as secondary priority with regards to evacuating the orbital population down beneath the planetary shields.

The Ribbon had been low on that priority, but Star Force had been ferrying people off it since the initial order had been given. The problem was there were so many people here that they didn’t have the ships necessary to get them all off in time. Its surface area was equivalent to a small moon, but unfortunately it was spread out flat rather than in a sphere that was more defendable. It had never been designed for combat, but rather civilian use, and right now there were still millions of people on it along with V’kit’no’sat troops doing what he wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t anything good.

Another command ship came into the battle/debris field and pulled him off the damaged ship, giving him a fresh steed to command from while the rest of the crew remained onboard the damaged one controlling the drones around them as they targeted and further destroyed the remains of the V’kit’no’sat ships, unable to even attempt any rescue efforts with their own people actively in danger. It had been long said that mercy was a luxury of the dominant, and right now Star Force wasn’t. Rio needed every asset he had to retake the Ribbon and wasn’t going to waste boarding parties onto V’kit’no’sat ships that could very well get themselves killed trying to take prisoners.

The V’kit’no’sat had come here to kill them, and the most leniency he was going to show them while the status quo remained was to eliminate them quickly rather than let them slowly suffocate to death. Had circumstances been different and he had more assets and time he might have tried to rescue at least a few, but given how dangerous they were he’d have to do it in a way that didn’t jeopardize any of his people, and right now he was starting to mentally sift through reports coming from the Ribbon detailing the internal combat there that was completely one sided. The V’kit’no’sat had not only Zen’zat inside, but also Brat’mar on the streets and I’rar’et flying over the buildings in the short internal atmosphere. Two major V’kit’no’sat races along with the Kar’ka, which were known as Gallimimus to ignorant Humans on Earth. They were not the equal of the other two, but were smaller, fast, and agile…not to mention great jumpers.

All three were in the ships that Rio had just destroyed as well as down inside the Ribbon…and they were both capturing and killing every Human in sight, along with destroying whatever buildings they needed to make adequate room for themselves to set up shop.

“Vex, I need you to take command of the fleet and keep the Ribbon safe. There’s another Shiva cluster enroute along with a lot of drone fleets, but we can’t wait. I have to get down there.”

“Go,” Vex-761 said between clenched teeth, for he knew the stakes and could see the horrors occurring below on the recording devices within the city that hadn’t yet been jammed or destroyed by the V’kit’no’sat. The few Archons and other troops down there were too few in number and totally outmatched, able to do little more than poke and distract long enough to buy the civilians a few more minutes, often at the cost of their own lives.

Rio left the command nexus after he’d summoned all the available ground troops in Saturn orbit to his location with calls out to other planets to send what they had…which was a lot, considering this was Sol. He’d have an army here soon, but the people down there didn’t have the luxury of waiting. Some would survive, given how many of them there were, but Rio wasn’t going to wait. He was the most powerful Archon in Star Force and had more psionics than any Zen’zat in recorded history.

Now it was time to see how much that was worth.

9

“Oh my god,” Haley said as she slammed the door shut on her quarters, leaning on it heavily as she and her best friend hid behind it as they sucked in air, for they’d ran all the way back here from the spaceport.

“That was a Triceratops,” Brittney said, sitting down in a chair as her hands shook from the residual adrenaline. “A fucking Triceratops!”

“A what?”

“A Dinosaur!” she yelled, then both girls flinched as a large explosion rippled through the building from somewhere nearby. They’d been in line to evacuate along with everyone else when the Ribbon had been boarded by the invaders, then when the shooting began and people started blowing up they’d ran away along with everyone else, eventually coming back to their residential quarters…for lack of anywhere else to go.

“I don’t care what it is. What are we going to do?”

“Stay here for now.”

“And what if they blow up this building too?”

“I don’t know!” Brittney screamed, the recent memories of exploding and scorched body parts flying every which way was so horrific her nerves were on the verge of permanently snapping. “I don’t know,” she repeated, this time seeming to lose all energy and just slumping back in the chair while her lungs fought to catch up on the oxygen she needed.

“Where is the military at?” Haley demanded. “What are they doing? We’ve got the biggest fleet in the galaxy and they let them just walk in here? And where the Archons?”

“Didn’t you see the one?” Brittney said, tears flowing. “He floated up off the ground and was ripped apart. His arms and legs…” she said, clamping down on her lips as she couldn’t speak anymore.

“What are we going to do?” Haley said as more explosions rippled their way across the cityscape from somewhere to the north. She walked over to the window and looked out, tilting her head as much as she could to see to the left as a winged monster flew by overhead, scaring her so bad she fell backwards in shock, but it passed by without seeing them.

Brittney got up and ran to the wall, hitting the button to tint the windows so nothing could see through, then she knelt down and helped drag Haley to her feet and into the adjacent room where both of them felt onto the couch and held onto each other, crying, scared, and not knowing what to do…hoping desperately that these Dinosaurs or whatever they were wouldn’t find them here.

Ian Draconi ran around a corner as fast as he could in his Commando armor, skidding as he tried to make the turn and having to bounce off the far wall on the narrow street in order to keep moving. The anti-psionics package readout in his HUD registered another Lachka attempt to grab him, but the suit had pulsed a Rentar field to neutralize it…draining the energy reserves further. If he kept getting the invisible grabs on him, his suit would run out of automated defenses and the Brat’mar chasing him would be able to pick him up off the ground and pull him back into easy shooting range…or worse.

But thankfully this narrow street wasn’t big enough for the huge Triceratops to follow him down, though there was a flash of blue energy over his head as he dropped into a subterranean stairwell. The resounding boom from ahead was followed by pounding chunks of building rubble as they fell and hit the ground, but he was out and away from his pursuit and the deadly rain as he ran through an empty subsurface corridor trying to put as much distance as he could between him and the Brat’mar…whom he’d only learned about in the previous days since the alarm heard across the system had been triggered and the Commandos had been brought up to speed on Star Force’s true nemesis.

Ian carried his plasma rifle on his back along with a couple of pistols, but the damn things couldn’t even scratch the Brat’mar. It was the size of a tank and heavily armored…and those two horns and dish-like backdrop on its head formed the equivalent of a canon that could take down building walls in a single hit. He’d seen two other Commandos get roasted on the spot, so he knew he couldn’t fight the thing or protect the people here. The best he could do was lead it away from them, though right now he wasn’t thinking about that or anything other than getting as far away from the damn dinosaur as he could.

He ran down several more corridors, zigzagging in an attempt to throw off pursuit as he went down further and further. They’d been told the V’kit’no’sat could see through walls and Ian didn’t know what their range was. The thing could be following him above waiting for him to come up, so he needed to cover as much distance as possible and resurface somewhere that was small and away from the fighting. If he couldn’t fight them he could at least get some intel and relay to the fleet, otherwise he was tempted to run and hide wherever he could.

Then again, if they could see through walls, he doubted there was anywhere he could truly hide.

When he turned the next corner he skidded to a stop, for there was a dark green armored Human standing down the hallway facing him. He was Knight-sized but not moving, though Ian could see that he held a weapon of some sort on his back, but his hands were free at the moment as the two stared each other down silently.

Ian broke the silence, pulling out one of his pistols as fast as he could and sending a bolt of blue plasma against the Zen’zat armor’s shields. The big figure took the first couple hits mockingly, then he accelerated into a run and came at the Commando without grabbing for his weapon.

Ian kept firing until he was on him, then released his weapon to fall to the ground as he punched forward.

The Zen’zat slipped to the side and rolled, making his punch miss as a hand came around and grabbed the back of Ian’s helmet. He responded instinctively by swinging the elbow of his overextended arm backwards through a circle and pried the hand free, knocking the arm aside and allowing him to punch with his other hand that came around a split second later.

The Zen’zat took the hit on the chest and was knocked back half a meter, then there was a furious exchange of blows that ended with Ian landing on his butt and the Zen’zat looking down at him. He stepped back three strides and motioned with is hand for the Commando to try again.

Ian stood, but instead of running towards him he pulled out his rifle and got a shot into his shields before the Zen’zat swiped the weapon away, but in doing so opened himself up to an Archon punch from the Commando with his left elbow coming forward and up into a battering ram that knocked the bigger Zen’zat back and onto his butt.

Rather than standing there and taunting him back, Ian turned and sprinted away, leaving both his pistol and rifle behind as he pulled out his spare. Wielding it in his left hand he spun around at the next intersection and put a couple more shots into the Zen’zat as he followed, with the second one finally popping his shields in addition to the physical blows that had been landed earlier, but that only seemed to anger the Zen’zat, increasing his speed as he got up on Ian and smashed him to the ground.

Body blows fell into his armor as he found himself face down on the ground, but no matter how much he tried to get up the Zen’zat kept hammering him until he was so shell shocked he couldn’t have found his balance even if he’d been allowed to stand up.

The next thing he knew there were hands on his helmet trying to remove it, but Ian used the override and locked out the external controls, keeping himself inside the protective cocoon no matter how much physical abuse he took, and after a few minutes of wrenching he felt himself be picked up by the Zen’zat…who started carrying him off.

Ian let himself recover for a few seconds, then kicked and punched at any part of the dark green armor he could…but that only resulted in another beating that left him seeing stars. By the time he came to he realized he was back on the surface, then was dumped to the ground a short while later. He stood up, looking around to see the two prongs of a Triceratops pointed at him from only a few meters away, but they weren’t sparking with energy. Rather, his Rentar power charge was being assaulted and he could see the bar dropping rapidly on his HUD.

Ian took off to the left, but only made it a few steps before another Zen’zat stepped out through a broken doorway and clotheslined him with one quick arm flick, knocking him on the ground as his Rentar bar went to zero.

Suddenly his body tightened up and he felt himself lifted off the ground. He was spun around and floated back in front of the Brat’mar, then after about a minute of mechanical screeches and groans his helmet broke apart from the rest of his armor at the neck and his face was exposed to the outside air.

The gleaming silver armor on the face of the Brat’mar peeled back like a retreating wave of water across its skin, revealing a blue/grey thick hide with clear horns. His face was floated over next to the tiny one on its snout, then was smashed against the side of its head…and as soon as skin contact was made his entire body went limp, betraying his command, as he sensed a looming presence within his mind. It was a pressure, but barely that of a ghost to his perspective. What it was doing he didn’t know from his senses, but he’d been told that the V’kit’no’sat could read minds if they could touch your skin…and this one was probably sucking out all his secrets right now, with Ian unable to even  move a muscle as his body hung limp inside his armor.

He knew he was as good as dead, but without even being able to speak there was nothing he could do but wait.

And the wait lasted several minutes before his body returned to his control and he dropped to the ground, then an invisible wave knocked him to the side and into the hands of two Zen’zat. He swung at them, knocking the legs out from under one with a follow-up scissor kick, then a punch to his head sent him reeling. The next thing he knew there was some sort of cutting tool tearing apart his armor as the Zen’zat peeled him out of it. Before he could throw another punch one of their pale hands emerged and touched a pair of fingers to his bloody forehead...

The pain numbed out, but he also lost control of his body again until the armor had been fully removed, then he was dragged to his feet and given to one Zen’zat that took him by the wrist with the mechanical gauntlet constricting so firmly that it might as well have been handcuffs. He was pulled for several steps until he started walking with the Zen’zat, knowing that outside his armor all it would take was a few good punches and he’d be dead, and his head was still throbbing from the one he’d taken earlier, so he didn’t put up any more fight, deciding to play this out and see what they were going to do with him. Maybe there would be a chance for him to get away later…or maybe they were going to rip him apart for fun somewhere else.

Eventually he was shoved inside a room with other Humans…some civilians, some Commandos, and even a pair of lower ranking Archons based off their uniforms, all of which were out of armor.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Holding,” the ranger said. “They’re taking turns interrogating us. I don’t know what they’re after, but I don’t think they’re finding it too quickly or we’d already be dead.”

“I saw them kill others,” Ian pointed out. “What are they looking for?”

“I don’t know. Fight back if you want, but at this point I see no way of surviving this. I’d rather go down swinging, but without armor we stand zero chance.”

“How many are outside?”

“Two Zen’zat are guarding us. One there,” he said, pointing to a wall that Ian couldn’t see through, “and there.”

Ian saw him point to the hallway that ran parallel to the room.

“Where are they taking us to be interrogated?”

“Down here,” the ranger said, pointing the opposite way. “There’s a couple of the small ones. Kar’ka, I think. They’ve had me in there three times already. Never said a word.”

“Did you lose control of your body?”

“Mostly. I’ve had some training how to resist, but their minds are too powerful for me. I could keep the Zen’zat out for the most part…until they knocked me unconscious.”

“I couldn’t do anything,” Ian said, swiping a trickle of blood off his forehead and rubbing it on the wall instead of his light blue uniform. “Anyone know the condition of the fleet?”

Those military in the room shook their heads in the negative, while the civilians were so freaked out they didn’t care to supply him with any information, wrapped up in repeating memories of the horrors they’d witnessed and the expectation of more to come in short order.

The V’kit’no’sat had blown their own entry holes into the Ribbon then secured all the natural boarding points in order to keep the remaining civilians from fleeing before they could be captured or killed, so when Rio’s assault team tried to board they had to go about cutting themselves a new entry point as well, though they were much more efficient at it. Once they had a surface conduit established down into the internal atmosphere and shield generators holding it inside, they sent down several dropships that were unmanned ahead of those that were, drawing firing from the I’rar’et circling in the air around the entry point and getting blown into bits by the concentrated weaponsfire.

But what came in behind that diversion started shooting back as two madcats fell through pulsing their jumpjets to slow their fall down to the surface, launching scores of missiles at the lightly armored I’rar’et flyers and knocking many of them out of the sky. Most didn’t die, merely falling down and recovering or hitting the surface still alive, but their limited armor was no match for the firepower in the compact missiles and they were left with holes in their wings or missing wings altogether as they rapidly backtracked from the entry corridor as the two madcats continued to empty their racks on the hundreds of the Pterodactyls above.

There was no resistance on the ground, for Rio had chosen a region in the Ribbon that the V’kit’no’sat had not claimed yet, though the I’rar’et could fly just about anywhere they wanted…that was until a few squadrons of skeets came down through the hole in the sky and began chasing after them. About equal size, the skeets had far less biology inside them than the I’rar’et did, making for a pretty even match when factoring in the tech advantage the V’kit’no’sat had…save for the few missiles that the Star Force aerial craft also carried.

Either the I’rar’et hadn’t been expecting that or they just didn’t know about Star Force enough to be prepared for it, because many of them died in the first few minutes until several K’lak’tal showed up in their battle suits and downed a few skeets, but even they had to back off as more and more missiles and energy weapon hits came from the growing number of mechs on the ground, for they were coming down through the opening like drops of water then fanning out on the cityscape below as Star Force immediately began setting up a safe zone and putting out a call to any survivors nearby to come here for evac.

Rio came down through the opening mid stream in a neo, dropping lightly to the ground on a city street before running up to the periphery with several other mechs in tight formation behind him. They had to get to one of the natural spaceports and secure it in order to get the big transports inside, otherwise it would take forever to evacuate the remaining people…and the longer they waited, the less of them there would be to rescue, for the automated systems on the Ribbon that still remained under their control were recording the waves of carnage taking place.

Knowing approximately where the front lines of the slaughter were, he took his 4 binaries of mechs out at point, shooting at whatever I’rar’et was bold enough to come in close, while they hunted the closest of the Brat’mar, which was some 43 miles away, meaning they were going to be there in a little over half an hour.

10

The energy blast coming off the Brat’mar’s horns was different than what the Hjar’at used. Their Saroto’kanse’vam had a range of operations, but the Brat’mar’s Doh’gon had a single use. Each of the two forward-pointing horns could fire individually in a narrow arc forward, not in all directions like the Hjar’at, or they could link the two together to produce a stronger blast that was held between them in a gathering point shortly before release in a plasma-like beam that was both energy and a bit of matter thrown in.

The matter contingent was unstable and decaying as soon as it left the containment of the horns, producing a burning effect on anything it touched that would linger shortly after contact, but the biggest damage the Brat’mar could do outscaled even the Hjar’at. One versus one the Hjar’at would win easily, but as far as unloading a single shot went, when the Brat’mat included their nose horn the trio of Doh’gon emitters would produce a cannon-like shot in the form of a very short beam that was very powerful but slow to cycle. They could even amp it up more if they wanted by including the head fin, which acted as a containment device that allowed them to accept even more charge from their armor in the air above of their eyes…as well as giving them a huge bioshield in front of their bodies whenever they wished.

The Brat’mat were ferocious when facing an opponent. It was their flanks that were their ‘weak’ point, though in truth they were strong from all sides. It was just their forward arc that was their sweet spot, both for offense and defense, and it was that that Rio jumped over in his neo as the Brat’mar fired on a madcat and punched through its shields, melting the leg armor and seizing up the knee joint a moment later so that it couldn’t walk.

Rio’s mech came down on top of the Brat’mar, metallic knees first, and knocked it flat to the ground. He recovered his own footing then began punching the silver-armored flank with both hands while firing off mauler and Dre’mo’don blasts into the Brat’mar’s shields while taking a few hits from its secondary weaponry.

A wall of Lachka hit his mech, trying to push it off, but it only managed to allow the quadruped to slide away briefly, for the neo was too heavy for it to pick up. It tried to spin around but the mech was too fast, charging forward and firing into its side again as the stationary madcat fired mauler blasts of its own into the face that was charging up another shot and trying to spin around to deliver it against Rio while delivering secondary Chi’parat shots from its hip mounted weaponry.

Old as the mauler weapon was, Star Force had kept it around for a reason…and that reason was its ability to weaken shields. A mauler blast today was some 200 times more destructive than it had been when the weapon had first arrived in mech form, though that still didn’t match the Dre’mo’dons they now used. However, using both weapons meant the V’kit’no’sat or others couldn’t tune their shields to resist just the Dre’mo’dons or the maulers, and with every hit the madcat laid into the Brat’mar its shields went down far more than from the destructive effect alone.

Unable to get to Rio with its main weapon as fast as it liked, the Brat’mar turned back and unloaded on the madcat. With its shields mostly down, it took the Doh’gon beam straight in the body and the forward armor plates exploded so hard that it rocked the entire mech back. Unable to bend the one knee to compensate it started to fall down, then some agile maneuvering on the other leg and with the two stubby arms had it leaning over at an angle and looking towards the ground as the pilot wresting the damaged mech back up into standing position…but then another Brat’mar came in and physically rammed it, unloading another blast into the forward, damaged section once it was on the ground, and all but killing the mech. The protective cockpit cocoon took damage, but the pilot still lived and had enough control left to unload the left shoulder missile box into the flank of the Brat’mar.

The explosions damaged the mech too, tearing off the missile box as well as the left arm, but the shields on the V’kit’no’sat went down and a good chunk of its armor went with it as Rio kept wrangling with the other while getting bits of incoming Chi’parat damage from nearby Kar’ka weaponry. It was more potent than Dre’mo’dons and the V’kit’no’sat’s primary weapon for small scale conflicts where sufficient armor space was available…and the Kar’ka were about as small as you could get and still wield one, though on occasion Zen’zat would carry large independent weapons of the same make.

Right now it was the Kar’ka that were sniping at the mechs alongside the Brat’mar, with the Zen’zat staying out of the way so they didn’t get stepped on. Their weaponry was infantry only and not up to snuff for this kind of a fight, and really the Kar’ka were at a disadvantage too against the neos. The other mechs were a different story, but the Kar’ka had to operate in groups to take them down, for one on one they didn’t have the firepower to do it.

The Brat’mar were more than a match for the mechs, but Rio was using the agility of the neo and the quadruped limitations of his opponent to his advantage as he finally beat through the shielding on the Brat’mar and began to score armor hits…then a very skillful feint got him momentarily off balance as the Brat’mar looking to be spinning its head towards him then suddenly redirected and whipped its giant tail around from the opposite direction.

Rio’s neo was knocked backward, and as the Brat’mar reversed its spin he saw the blue energy charging over its head, knowing he couldn’t get to his feet fast enough, so while he fired a Dre’mo’don into the forward bioshields covering the Brat’mar he reached out with his mind and unleashed the largest Fornax blast he could straight into the thing’s big head.

The Brat’mar twitched uncontrollably and the beam shot high, missing the neo and traveling a couple of kilometers to where it hit the top of a building, blowing it apart and causing the upper few stories to tip over and eventually fall crumbling to the ground, crushing whatever was beneath it.

Rio knew it would take time for another Doh’gon to charge, so he rushed the face of the Brat’mar and attacked the bioshields, weakening them with punches and shots while staying directly ahead of the Brat’mar and out of range of the hip cannons, though the knee-mounted ones continued to chip away at his shields.

A moment before the Brat’mar’s bioshields eventually collapsed the silver armor on its face rippled and flowed up over its horns, protecting them as the armor’s shields breached a few seconds later and the neo started making body blows…up until he had to pull back as another Doh’gon shot through the space he had been in from another flanking Brat’mar.

A trio of skeets flew in and strafed it, unloading into its side and streaking past ahead of a pair of I’rar’et chasing them just before a huge salvo of missiles from a pair of madcats slammed into the Brat’mar, taking it down so hard that Rio knew it must have already had weakened shields prior to the attack. A pair of neos jumped out from behind a low building on spaceport grounds and went straight for it, leaving him to deal with his previous target as its horns became exposed again and charged up for another heavy cannon shot.

Just then Rio got a battlemeld prompt from two other Archons approaching from the south, with him immediately accepting it and the trio reached out to the Brat’mar’s mind, using their combined Ikrid power to hammer against its incredibly large telepathic presence even as they peppered it with Dre’mo’don and mauler blasts. The battle went on for four more seconds, but just as the Doh’gon was about to fire against his neo again they finally broke through its mental defenses and froze it…with the blue energy dissipating as there was no longer any controlling force behind it.

An umbrella of energy puffed from its head, lightly damaging anything around it as Rio and the others fought to keep a hold on the mind that was bucking their grip as much as possible. Meanwhile they continued to hammer it with mech shots, tearing through its armor until they started making flesh wounds. Once that happened their hold on its mind broke, for the pain was too much for them to suppress. It staggered to the side, firing back with its secondary weaponry as it tried to charge up another Doh’gon, but subsequent Fornax blasts caused it to trip and fall…though it didn’t get back up as more body shots were made and the Brat’mar finally died.

Rio breathed heavily inside the mech, having stretched his Ikrid power to the limit to try and suppress that much brain mass, but then he noticed the disappeared Brat’mar’s mind return, though it wasn’t moving. As other fighting continued and the battlemeld link between the three broke, he zoomed in on the Brat’mar and saw its wounds healing over…knowing that the armor it wore contained a Kich’a’kat that was trying to bring it back to life.

Rio didn’t like shooting people when they were down, but in this case he had no choice…and after the sight of other Brat’mar telekinetically ripping unarmored Humans apart he didn’t feel too bad about this one. He just hated that they were so outmatched that they couldn’t be taking prisoners. They had to kill as many of the V’kit’no’sat as they could, and the number of mechs littering the spaceport attested to the cost of the few kills they were getting. Rio couldn’t let this one get back up and limp off, only to return later in a new suit of armor or to go out with a final cannon blast that would kill or disable another mech.

So he walked up and started unloading into the breach points in the armor until either the Kich’a’kat was destroyed or there wasn’t enough of the Brat’mar left to repair. Either way the healing stopped and Rio ran off towards the closest engagement he could find, though there were only a few remaining. The spaceport would soon be theirs again, but it had cost them a lot…

Suddenly he got hit from behind as a pair of new Brat’mar entered the spaceport landing field, coming out from behind a building and apparently jamming sensors enough not to have gotten picked up on the battlemap prior to that. Both of them unloaded their Doh’gon at him, with Rio only managing to dodge one of the shots. The other hit and blew through his shields, then partially severed his right arm that dropped limp beside him as he ran off in his metallic body as fast as he could, but the smaller Kar’ka with the Brat’mar raced across the gap faster than his neo could move without the counterbalance of the arm, and even then the V’kit’no’sat might have turned out to be faster, because they were closing alarmingly fast.

He didn’t turn to fight, knowing that if they delayed him the Brat’mar would finish him off, so he continued running as their Chi’parat ate into his rear armor. He got nearly a kilometer before they got one of his leg joints and his mech fell to the ground, digging a furrow in the hard pavement and forcing him to fight from a kneeling position...but what they didn’t expect was the massive Fornax blast thrown their way along with the weaponry in his intact arm and shoulder mounts. Another followed it, and another, disrupting their balance but not taking them down to the ground as many of their return shots missed his mech entirely…but then a cannon shot from a Brat’mar hit him square in the chest and knocked his mech flat on its mechanical back.

Free of the Fornax disruption, the Kar’ka swarmed over him, shooting into the armor damage and wrecking his mech until a combination of air strikes and a star of mechs got to him, fighting off the Kar’ka and killing most of them before losing two of their own to the Brat’mar as Rio sat in his armored cocoon trying to get his mech back on its feet…but it was no use. It was toast and all he had was the secondary battlemap feed coming from the cocoon to see what was going on outside, for his command and control systems were down.

He could issue commands, and did send a few quick ones before he started digging his way out of the dead mech. It took him several minutes of pushing and cutting using the tools inside to get through the damaged cocoon even with the help of internal releases, then he crawled out through the gash the Brat’mar had torn in the torso and stood atop his dead mech in his purple/white Archon armor and looked around.

The two Brat’mar were being pushed back by another star coming to assist the broken one, but neither of them were damaged. Shields were low, but no armor damaged yet. As for the Kar’ka…

Rio leapt up off the mech and kicked in his Yen’mer, flying up a few meters then doing a superman low to the ground as he headed for three of the Kar’ka. Each was a good three meters tall and had weaponry that could eat through his shields and armor really fast, but he never gave them the chance. Readjusting his shields into a forward cone and throwing up his own bioshields over them, he dove straight into one of them and knocked it over with his body, dropping both shields right before impact so not to drain them, then flicking them back on after the fact as he bounced to the second one and punched it in the head.

Running/flying between the three he moved too fast for them to easily shoot with their Chi’parat, but they also had smaller Dre’mo’dons on their short arms that they did land a few shots with, but not enough to get through both sets of shields before Rio started messing with their mental aim and causing the others to go wide or to shoot phantom images of himself. He kept them so busy and frustrated that they didn’t even see the skeets coming in, and when he dropped into a ball on the ground between the three and generated the biggest Fornax field he could, the area around him lit up with weaponsfire as the skeets didn’t fly past. They came to a hover nearby and unloaded on the three Kar’ka with repetitive shots…shots that the V’kit’no’sat could not return so long as the Fornax was messing with their aim.

When the weaponsfire ceased all three Kar’ka were full of smoking holes and Rio waved off the skeets as he went around and made sure each of the three remained dead while also watched from afar as the 10 mechs took down one of the Brat’mar and chased the other off…though there were only 4 of them left standing at the end.

Another neo ran over to him and Rio flew up to land on the shoulder, then the Regular pilot ran him across the battlefield to a secure area before heading back out to help clean up what was left of the V’kit’no’sat and establish a perimeter in case more were on their way…and with the local jamming devices they were setting up to minimize Star Force sensors and their battlemeld coordination, the odds of ambushes were considerably greater. Rio was going to need to bring sensor beacons in and set them up everywhere to fill in the gaps, for armor and mech systems working in conjunction were not going to pick up anything beyond line of sight with this much jamming in play.

Another neo guarding the recently established evacuation site…given that it still had some intact ships sitting on the tarmac…commed him and offered his ride, but Rio declined. Instead he headed over to the Morpheus-class mech that was standing guard along with a quartet of drones. Rio had it open up and he flew into the hatch, sliding inside with the two occupants and taking a seat on the floor.

“The neo can cover this location. Get your star moving and out to the damaged mechs. We have to recover pilots before they can get picked off by Zen’zat. I’ve seen one killed already, and I know they’re waiting for another opportunity. I’ll provide coordination and psionic assistance if we encounter anymore Brat’mar, but right now we need to go Zen’zat hunting.”

“Gladly,” the Archon in the controller’s seat said while the Regular that was piloting the Morpheus itself didn’t respond other than getting them into motion. The Archon mentally ordered the four pilotless mechs to fall into formation behind the Morpheus, and Rio rode with them out towards the battlefield as he looked on sensors for dead spots where the V’kit’no’sat may have been hiding jammers…for the Zen’zat were using them cagily to move in and around the various structures and downed mechs, often running across the gaps so fast that no one could shoot them because they weren’t in range, then disappearing from sensors again and unable to be tracked down once a mech or skeet got to their location.

Rio kept checking the battle in the air as well, seeing that what fighting was left amounted to a few I’rar’et poking the perimeter in order to keep the skeets from massing against the ground troops as they fought an aggressive retreat away from the spaceport trying to bleed Star Force of as many mechs as they could without going down themselves.

But they weren’t Rio’s concern…the Zen’zat were, for right now they were acting as assassins and looking to take down the mechwarriors when they exited their dead machines or going after them inside them. Rio picked up on one such attempted to the west and the Morpheus star responded in time, seeing a large explosion rip open the heart of the mech as a Zen’zat ran off under ranged weaponsfire that wasn’t accurate enough to hit him, though Rio had hoped they’d get a lucky hit in.

They didn’t, but when Rio exited the mech and flew down to the site of the explosion he saw that a bit of the cocoon had remained, then he coordinated with the Archon inside to cut him out while standing guard against any more assassination attempts.

The spaceport was theirs, but this was not safe territory yet. They’d have to clear and reinforce it heavily before they could open up the space doors and start accepting in the convoys of transports to evacuate the survivors…and he had no doubt that there would be Zen’zat lurking in the shadows to ambush the unarmored civilians as they transitioned here.

Which meant that he was going to have to be spending a lot of time out of mech counter hunting them…along with Archon teams linked in battlemeld with the same objective.

As long as the mechs and aerial division could keep sufficient numerical advantage to hold the V’kit’no’sat heavy hitters back from this location, and the navy outside could do the same, this was going to be a war of Zen’zat versus Archons with the prizes being the lives of the civilians yet to be evacuated…and Rio knew that they weren’t going to get them all out, so he set himself to the task of hunting the hunters rather than being a defender, and took most of the best Archons he had available with him for the same purpose as other Archons, Knights, and Commandos were deployed in defensive arrangements and escorts along the evacuation routes that were just now being set up to channel the panicked civilians that were running out of buildings everywhere and heading straight for the nearest Star Force troops they could find…

Which the Zen’zat took advantage of, killing many in the chaos before Rio returned the favor and started a killcount of his own that would cross into triple figures within two days…but that was only the beginning of the fight on the Ribbon, for the V’kit’no’sat had come here for answers and they weren’t going to give up their captive population until they had learned from them who among the V’kit’no’sat was sponsoring the rogue Zen’zat.

Star Trek Red Alert

Kaalo

1

May 4, 3602

Solar System

Neptune

The subdivision of the V’kit’no’sat fleet led by the Serni’jar broke away from the other races, taking their 296 ships out beyond the main planet to the gas giants in higher stellar orbits, picking the cold blue one with a fair amount of orbital constructs but it was the pair of sizeable shipyards in low planetary orbit that drew their attention. With only four of their defense stations to defend them and a small fleet of the rogue Zen’zat ships, Mak’to’ran had sent Nikken to both take them out and draw system defense fleets away from other targets.

That said, Nikken didn’t like what he saw. A direct attack would cost him some ships and they’d already lost plenty since entering this system without even assaulting a protected world yet. It was questionable whether or not the V’kit’no’sat fleet could destroy this system if they kept taking losses, for the strength of the planetary shields had not yet been tested, and he did not want to contribute to their losses here.

The quadruped strode back and forth on the command deck of his Na’shor, sizing up the defense fleet and nearby ships moving to reinforce the shipyards…as well as the partially completed vessels in the slips. Many were larger than the ships they’d been fighting, but without a complete record of the enemy fleet classes it was impossible to determine their function. He wanted to send troops onboard to pull computer records and other information, but with the resistance being put up so far he wasn’t going to risk it. There were many shipyards, some of alarming size, spread out across this star system, but this pair were going to be eliminated quickly and efficiently…the question was how to do that aside from a straightforward attack.

Using the data from the battle in stellar orbit, Nikken calculated how many hits from those defense stations his ships could take and set up an assault circuit with a point starting beyond their range, then when he was satisfied, the Serni’jar and Octo’mar fleets began running in towards them at high speed, but only a few ships at a time stretched out into a long line.

Nikken didn’t go first, but rather back in the 19th wave so he could monitor the damage on both sides and make adjustments prior to his personal attack. He’d ordered the defense stations and the Zen’zat ships ignored as much as possible and all firepower to be directed on the shields protecting the outer shipyard of the pair. Taking fire from the defense stations and the Zen’zat fleet, his leading ships punched through and unloaded only a handful of shots as they flashed by at high speed, suffering more shield damage on the far side as they accelerated hard to get out of weapons range.

Nikken didn’t get information back from them until they came out of their tiny microjumps, but none of them had their shields go down…which was good, and if the trend held they’d be able to continue battering the shipyard with impunity until they breached the weak shield covering its spindly mass.

But the Zen’zat defenders quickly caught on to their disadvantage, and by the time Nikken’s ship made its strafing run it had enemy ships accelerating to keep pace with it, exchanging fire as they flew in and out of proximity, but when the microjump ended he saw that the Star Force ships were still with his…but they hadn’t followed all of his ships, only certain groups that they now outnumbered.

Clever of them, but he wasn’t going to let them bait him into a slugging match. He ordered his ships to continue fleeing to a new rendezvous point, but the ‘Star Force’ ships continued to pursue. Calling them Zen’zat vessels wasn’t fair, after all, for no true Zen’zat had built these primitive craft.

They weren’t V’kit’no’sat technology or design, but it was going to take a while for Nikken to start thinking of their opponents as something other than their own…which was why he didn’t expect one of his smaller Ti’mat to suddenly drop out of formation as Star Force made a strafing run against the four ships in his group. He expected them to come in close and open fire, but none of them did on this attack run. Instead they came up so close they nearly rammed the Ti’mat, then suddenly they fell back dragging the Serni’jar ship with them.

By the time he realized what was happening and turned his own ships around, more Star Force ships were intercepting the Ti’mat pinned within an engine crippling field and hammering its shields. Like a swarm of rodents they surrounded it and did not relent even when his Na’shor and 9 other ships arrived, with his group combining with another attack wave. They fell on the tiny Star Force ships and began savaging them, but the Ti’mat inside had hull breaches before the rescue battle had even begun and Nikken couldn’t draw their fire away from it.

The Star Force fleet group eventually scattered and ran, now outnumbered, but having destroyed the Ti’mat. Its hull was still mostly there, but with huge holes in it, few operational systems, and drifting on its previous course with no engine power even without the Star Force crippling ships holding it in check. Nikken had destroyed several of them as they fled, but he hadn’t gotten them all and the tradeoff had definitely not been worth it.

Angry at having been bled so stupidly, he began clumping his formation up more as he continued to pound the shipyard’s shields until they eventually failed. When they did, each subsequent pass destroyed part of the giant station, but eventually another Ti’mat went with it. The Star Force fleet assaulted one again as they passed, weakening its shields but not penetrating them as they focused their full firepower on the single vessel during the brief flyby. Like before, some of them accelerated and tried to match pace, but the four defense stations also targeted the single Ti’mat whose shields were already diminished…

Suddenly it dropped from the group just as they were beginning to make their microjumps, with Nikken ordering a sudden abort. He wasn’t going to leave a ship behind to get picked apart, so he decided to weather the Ardents from the stations as his ships surrounded the damaged one, taking hits for it as he called in all his far flung ship groups for a direct attack on the Sentinels.

The battle lasted longer than he wanted, but the outcome was never in doubt. All four defense stations fell and the remains of the defense fleet fled as they were quickly outgunned, leaving both the damaged shipyard and the untouched one at their mercy…though at the cost of 18 of his ships. More were damaged and still operational to various degrees, but the crews on the destroyed ones would at least be partially recoverable. Nikken ordered rescue teams sent immediately and enough perimeter skirmishers to keep the Star Force ships back from any assassination runs they might attempt.

Simultaneously he sent a handful of ships to finish destroying the exposed shipyard, which they could now do patiently without the defense stations waiting nearby to shoot them. Both the Serni’jar and their Octo’mar allies, whom they often paired with on joint missions, methodically took apart the station piece by piece, utterly destroying it in a venting of their rage, but Nikken had them carefully take down and disable the shields on the second shipyard sometime later, then surround it with a defensive screen while he sent boarding parties onboard.

He might not have come out of this with his full ship count, but he was going to get some intel he hadn’t expected to retrieve. It wouldn’t be worth the loss of his ships, but it would be something to help mitigate that loss…and he hoped that Star Force would come back within firing range in an attempt to stop him so he could destroy more of their pathetic small ships.

Nikken’s costly victory was expanded upon as his fleet sought out and destroyed all unprotected orbitals in the region around the gas giant that weren’t under the protective umbrella of a defense station. He’d hoped to draw out the Star Force fleet but they didn’t respond at all, just letting him destroy their infrastructure that, like the shipyards, appeared to have already been evacuated…unlike a larger station in orbit around one of the closer gas giants that the Brat’mar were assaulting. They’d gotten inside to discover a large number of the rogue Zen’zat still remaining, and according to previous reports they were capturing as many as they were killing and beginning to get some answers as to what was going on here.

But then things took another turn for the worse when Star Force staged a counter attack with ships of an unfamiliar kind coming up from somewhere far below the star to reinforce them. The V’kit’no’sat didn’t know who owned them, but they were much larger and heavily shielded, giving the small ships some badly needed mass and allowing them to take back naval control of their synthetic landscape in orbit, though in appearance only. Brat’mar, I’rar’et and Kar’ka troops were still inside and in control, but Star Force had begun shipping in a massive amount of their own troops and initial reports indicated that they were using both aerial craft and large mechanized vehicles and battle suits that were having some effect.

Whenever it was told that a Brat’mar died in ground combat it gave Nikken chills for they fought the least recklessly, and the combination of their firepower and defenses meant it had to have taken something particularly nasty to take them down. As it was, his splinter group was being called to that battle location along with four other fleet segments in order to regain naval superiority against the alarming number of Star Force ships gathering there.

Other fleet segments were being reassigned to punish the enemy’s arrogance in different locations, but as Nikken recalled his various ships from around planetary orbit he got word from the vessels in the center of the system that Star Force reinforcements had begun to arrive, complicating matters further.

“There they are,” Roger-009 said from the bridge nexus onboard his command ship as he came out of his high deceleration jump and began getting battlemap data of the V’kit’no’sat fleet that had spread across the system, but with a chunk still remaining in stellar orbit tearing apart a lot of Sentinels with an Ethan-commanded fleet nearby…and the Slip’in’slide deployed above them.

As the data began to pour in Roger reviewed it quickly with his Sav-enhanced mind and the neural interlink, seeing the initial battle replayed while also monitoring current movements to make sure the 1000 jumpships in the 112th fleet that he’d brought with him in full weren’t disturbed at their  jumppoint. He’d followed the jumppoint recommendations flowing out over short range communications and was glad to see that there were no nearby threats nor any moving towards him.

During that time he also received a message from Ethan, including a set of coordinates that he wanted him to rendezvous at.

“Glad you finally got your ass here, buddy. If you haven’t noticed by now they’ve got a Mach’nel that is causing us a lot of headaches and their ships are a bit stronger than during the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. No major improvements seen yet and with the fleet they brought we’re going to kick their ass, but if we don’t do something about that Mach’nel they’re going to make a mess of our tidy system.”

“Don’t trip over the debris on the way in, we’ve already had one dustup, and Rio is in a bind out at Titan. They got onboard the Ribbon and we’re taking it back to finish with the evacuation. Right now the Mach’nel is picking off Sentinels and I can’t do a damn thing about it aside from trying to trim off some of their support ships, so if you have any bright ideas get your ass over here and take command. And even if you don’t, get over here. I need all the help I can get. These bastards are trying every trick in the book to break our battlemap grid and I’m having to bleed drones to accomplish anything against them.”

The recorded message finished with a position highlighted near Ethan’s current location, and with a thought he assigned command of the jumppoint to another ship with orders to remain on station until everyone had arrived then follow him over to Ethan…but right now he needed to get within realtime comm range and have a chat with his peer.

That took only a matter of minutes when sufficient engine power was applied, dropping him out behind the Star Force position to help avoid a possible intercept that never came. Right now there was no fighting aside from the Mach’nel sniping a Sentinel from beyond its return fire range and methodically poking down its shields.

“Why didn’t we build one of those?” Roger joked when Ethan’s hologram popped up in his nexus.

“Rio didn’t want to tip our hand and I agreed. We’ve pulled in a couple of Shivas, but that’s it. Unless we can get the Mach’nel alone to hammer on it, any assault we make is going to be wasted.”

“And unless you can disable its engines it can just run unless we get it cornered properly.”

“You see the problem,” Ethan said sarcastically. “Any suggestions?”

“Not yet. Why haven’t they touched Earth?”

“They think we’re an illegal V’kit’no’sat project sponsored by one of the current races and they want to know which one. That’s why we think they boarded the Ribbon and are taking some prisoners. The others they’re killing on the spot. Some with Lachka.”

Roger winced. “Pulled apart?”

“The ones caught out of armor, yeah. It’s not pretty, but take a look just to get your ire up. We haven’t tried taking any prisoners yet, both because of that and the fact that we’re not sure how hard it will be.”

“Save that for after we kick their ass,” Roger said firmly. “So long as they’re mobile and dangerous we can’t risk losing other people to pick up their scraps. How badly damaged is that Mach’nel?”

“Not enough. Got a sunbath though.”

“Saw that. Did they lose any weapons and repair them or did they just not take much damage?”

“Unclear, but its combat capabilities don’t seem to be hindered other than some armor loss. By now its shields have fully recharged and they’ve got at least one damaged generator back online. It wouldn’t surprise me if they get the others up before too long.”

“Still, the armor loss is a help and they can’t replace that out here,” Roger said as he continued to pull up past data while feeling out the current situation. “They’re going for the control ships. Why haven’t they got one yet?”

“We’re not making it easy, but I sense some hesitation on their part too. When we run we win by buying time for the drones to fight, meaning it’s not a loss, and they seem to have trouble figuring out how hard to chase and when to head back and shoot up the drones.”

“When they start using Domjo and smaller we’re going to have a problem. They can maneuver close enough to do damage even when we’re evading.”

“They haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Damn them. They just had to bring a Mach’nel. With a fleet this small I didn’t think they would have bothered.”

“And we’re losing drones fast.”

“There are more on the way, and it looks like you’ve got a decent killcount yourself. Mind if I see if I can add to it?”

“I’ll happily take second seat. What do you need?”

“The I’rar’et know how to fly and fight, so let’s ignore them and focus on the plodders with a more navigationally aggressive attack and see how they respond.”

“Do you want to pull down another summon?”

“Not yet. You’ve got enough here for me to comfortably work with, though I am going to break some of your toys in the process.”

“Fine, so long as they’re not the big ones.”

“Have they found the fireflies yet?”

“The orbital stations submerged before they arrived, and we had the interceptors out of harm’s way long before that. No way of knowing how far their sensors have penetrated the star.”

“When are they supposed to emerge?”

“When they run out of shields.”

“Too deep for a recall pulse?”

“They’re as deep as they can go.”

“Alright, we’ll use the interceptors. Get them sipping star while I play with the Vikies here, and reconfigure their shields for opaqueness over the capture area. No point in tipping our hand when they probably don’t know what we’ve got…or am I wrong in assuming they didn’t scout the system prior to arrival?”

“I get the feeling they didn’t do any scouting. I was told the lizards are getting wiped out and they mind raided the information out of them. What they don’t know, the V’kit’no’sat probably don’t know. And I haven’t seen anything to contradict that theory. They came in here blind expecting to squash a bug.”

“How have they been taking the disappointment?”

“Well, but they’re still not registering how much trouble they’re in. They’ve got their big chess piece and are using it to probe a reaction from us, so they’re being cautious here and looking for answers on the Ribbon.”

“Good. Then they’re not going to see this coming. I’d go after the Mach’nel if its shields weren’t up, but there’s no way they’re going to sit still long enough and they’ll just pick off our interdictors if we make them. You were right to try and reduce their number of support ships. We’ll stick with that and let them trade off our Sentinels. They’re worthless without a range advantage anyway.”

“I was hoping you’d have some brilliant strategy to take out the Mach’nel and give us our range advantage back.”

“Like you said, if they don’t leave it alone we can’t do squat against it without bleeding ourselves dry. We…” Roger stopped mid-sentence as he saw an update on the battlemap.

“I see it,” Ethan confirmed as one of the fleet groups made up of the Hjar’at ships began moving out on a slow microjump far below the star and not on any useable jumpline. “They’re trying to backtrack the Shiva platform.”

“243 ships? That’ll be fun to watch. I assume she’s prepped for uninvited guests?”

“Got the confirmation signal back when I summoned the first cluster. Anything gets close to the wall it gets obliterated unless we use the stand down code.”

“You handle the fireflies?”

“Happy to. Just give me cover and let me know where to target.”

“Done. Any word on Sara?”

“Not yet. Expected her here before you.”

“So did I. I hope they’re not hitting multiple systems.”

“Not a peep off the entry route yet, but we did get confirmation from Char. They’re sending a flood of backup.”

“Hopefully we can finish this before they get here. The less tricks we have to pull out of our arsenal the better, but the fireflies we need now.”

“On it. Can you manage here if I go pick them up personally?”

“Yep,” Roger said, sending out priority commands that put all the nearby ships under his fleet control banner and removing Ethan’s. “Go.”

A few seconds later Ethan’s command ship made a microjump out of formation and began arcing its way over towards the jumpline for Earth while keeping well clear of the V’kit’no’sat fleet.

2

May 15, 3602

Solar System

Titan

Rio punched the taller Zen’zat in the face, cracking the already damaged helmet enough that he was able to telekinetically rip off the forward part of it, exposing his forehead and one eye. Over the next few furious blows Rio was able to spin the Zen’zat around and send him tumbling to the ground, then the Archon was over top of him and firing down at his head.

One shot landed and blew out a section of his skull, causing the Zen’zat to go limp on the grass in the Ribbon park where Rio had found him trying to ambush a nearby line of evacuees. Their fight had lasted more than 4 minutes as Rio beat through his shields and then his armor with a combination of fist, foot, and plasma, but like the others he’d come across in past days this Zen’zat was probably a high Kilnor at best…their lowest skill bracket out of six and about the equivalent of a padawan or mage, though this one was very good at close quarters deflections. A lot of the body blows Rio had attempted he’d moved a few inches prior to impact, drawing out this fight longer than a lot of the others.

Rio extended his mind out, searching for more targets while a pair of skeets flew overhead in a search pattern to cover for the civilians. Many had already been evacuated off the Ribbon as the naval fighting had stalled into a draw with Star Force holding part of the Ribbon and the V’kit’no’sat claiming access to the rest. Neither side wanted to fully engage the other, but neither could they allow for their troops to get stranded. The V’kit’no’sat had paid a heavy price to take back and then hold a few entrances and both fleets were now on opposite sides of the rectangular Ribbon and agreeing to stay there without any official communication.

Rio didn’t like that, but they’d have to burn through their remaining ships to get rid of the V’kit’no’sat fleet segments that had recombined here and the additional shivas were helping to keep the V’kit’no’sat from overrunning the smaller drones. The naval situation outside the Ribbon alone was a powder keg, but Roger and Ethan had their hands full elsewhere as the V’kit’no’sat kept hitting Sentinels and other targets without fully engaging any planetary defenses. Rio’s army here wasn’t interesting in holding onto the Ribbon, only in getting the people out, and after that the V’kit’no’sat could camp out here as long as they wanted and hope that Rio didn’t decide to destroy it with them inside.

That objective was why the naval situation outside was a draw. Star Force couldn’t risk the remaining civilians on their narrow advantage, needing to preserve it so they could escort the evacuation ships away from the Ribbon and down to the planet, otherwise the rescue effort would be pointless.

Right now more civilians were being killed by Zen’zat assassins than by the heavy combat, which was why Rio was here and not in a mech…and as his mind searched the area he caught sight of another Zen’zat, one that was heading his way rather than toward the civilians. Rio figured he was going to probably try and rescue the one he’d just killed, though with that head injury it was doubtful if a Kich’a’kat could even revive him.

Rio ran out across a grassy opening and by a few tall evergreen trees, then dove into a thicker area of woods that had been kept in cold, snowy conditions via segmented atmospheric shields to give it a different environment than the rest of the park. He passed from warm grass onto an inch of snow with only a slight resistance as he moved through the shield, then he came into contact with the new Zen’zat a few seconds later, seeing that he carried nothing more than his forearm gauntlets.

The Zen’zat struck first, a lightning fast punch followed by three more, then a kick that sent Rio flying backwards…with the Zen’zat following and pummeling him with punches offset by a Dre’mo’don shot here and there that were wearing down his shields fast.

It took a Jumat blast from Rio to knock the Zen’zat off him, then when Rio engaged again he realized that this Zen’zat was better than the others he’d faced, and to the point was faster than him. His reflexes and agility were superior, and given his larger size that meant Rio was at a significant disadvantage save for his psionics…which he pulled on heavily to disengage from the flying fists several times as the Zen’zat beat through his own blocks and made body shots that continued to drain his shields until Rio flashed up a bioshield a few inches off his armor and the Zen’zat’s next hit bounced off it unexpectedly.

The Archon took advantage of that and dived forward, landing a quick punch with his palm that moved the Zen’zat’s torso back a bit more, then he brought his other arm forward and blew the bigger warrior off him with another Jumat blast followed by him pulling out a pistol and shooting him several times as the Zen’zat got back up and charged.

Rio ran backwards and flew up into the air a couple meters, continuing to fire condensed plasma shots into the Zen’zat’s shields, but his opponent jumped up at him faster than he could fly away, taking a shot directly to the face, and dragged both of them back down to the ground. When they hit he tried to leverage Rio into a headlock and nearly succeeded had it not been for all those training sessions he’d done with the Black Knight. He recognized the move coming and reacted instinctively, ducking down all the way until he was curled up into a ball underneath the larger body and took that opportunity to summon a larger Jumat blast.

He blew it out from around his spherically and popped the bigger guy off, but only enough to get himself a step away before the Zen’zat was back on him. Rio got one shot off before his pistol was knocked out of his grip, then it was a series of losing arm and leg blocks as he fought a retreat across the snow until a wall of Lachka hit him from the side and knocked him into a tree. A hooking fist came around and hit him in the head so hard the impact drove his helmet into the thin tree trunk and snapped it in half as the Zen’zat grabbed Rio by the wrist and threw him back across the snow into another tree…which was when his shields popped, for he couldn’t turn them on and off fast enough to protect against the energy attacks while letting his armor absorb the physical blows.

When his shields went down the Zen’zat held position and raised both arms, firing multiple Dre’mo’don blasts at Rio as he dodged to the right. Some missed, some hit and melted little portions of his armor until his head stopping ringing enough for him to throw up a bioshield that caught the rest as he took off through the trees.

But the Zen’zat didn’t let him get far, actually running him down and punching him towards another tree that Rio expertly dodged, flying in place and letting his feet come up level with his body, then using them to jump off the bending trunk and launch him back at the Zen’zat…who moved so fast that Rio missed, and had it not been for his Yen’mer that allowed him to adjust his movement direction in flight he would have jumped completely clear of him and let the Zen’zat get behind his back, but Rio was able to curve his angle just enough to get a hand on the Zen’zat’s arm, whose shields were up and a bit slippery, but he was able to lock his fingers around the elbow joint and use it to pivot swing himself around and get behind the Zen’zat and put him into a headlock.

Rio latched on tight, then kicked into his back with his knees as the Zen’zat tried to extricate himself, eventually flipping backward in order to flatten Rio, but the Archon spun him around in air with his Yen’mer and landed him face down on the ground.

“You’re good,” Rio said in V’kit’no’sat as he fought to keep him pinned there against the massive muscle below and failing, so he had to summon up and drop an Ubven field over top of him. “Too bad you’re fighting for the bad guys.”

“Who gave you these abilities?” the Zen’zat said, struggling and failing to push through the thick Lachka field and Rio’s weight, which was enhanced considerably by his armor plates.

“We figured it out. And I’d hate to see someone of your skills be destroyed so pointlessly, but if you’re not gone when I get back here with my buddies we’re going to have to kill you.”

“Traitors never win. Whatever advantage you think you have will not be enough. You will be destroyed sooner or later.”

“We’re not V’kit’no’sat, so we can’t be traitors,” Rio said, jumping up off the Zen’zat into the air and hanging there for a moment as the bigger man fought to cut through and destroy the lingering Lachka restraints before Rio could shoot him with impunity, but when he succeeded a few moments later Rio was already above the tree line and flying hard to put distance between himself and the Zen’zat that had to be one of their elites, a tier 3 Tamrenor at minimum. Every other Zen’zat he’d faced here was either a tier 1 Kilnor or a low tier 2 Zardaku, and had he not had a psionics advantage the Zen’zat would have surely killed him.

Rio dropped a hazard warning on the park area and got the two nearby skeets flying low to strafe anything they saw as he headed to the top of a nearby building and perched himself there, giving his breathing a chance to settle as he scanned the battlemap and tried to make sure that there were enough assets in the area to protect the civilians against the Zen’zat…but no further attack against them materialized, and Rio got the distinct impression that Zen’zat had come here specifically for him, though he did note the other Zen’zat body had been removed and probably taken back to wherever the badass had come from.

The V’kit’no’sat gunship that had eventually picked up Kaalo set him and the body of the dead Zen’zat down in one of their strongholds on the Ribbon with Kaalo carrying the body out and handing it over to another Zen’zat before proceeding inside a portable V’kit’no’sat structure that had been set up inside one of the demolished cities. He made his way through the large corridors, passing by both Kar’ka and Brat’mar until he came to the commander’s platform that was but a simple room with a single workstation on which a Brat’mar stood with two Zen’zat assistants as they manipulated numerous holographic displays.

The unarmored Brat’mar turned to look at Kaalo, who retracted his own armor down into thick forearm gauntlets.

“I do not care for that look,” the Brat’mar said skeptically. “What has transpired?”

“I engaged their Rio in single combat after he killed one of our Zen’zat. I defeated him, but was unable to land a killing blow before he escaped. I can confirm he has Nakane, Jumat, Ubven, and whether by body or armor has the ability to fly under low power. I can beat him, but he can run from me.”

“Jumat and Ubven?”

“Yes.”

The Brat’mar considered that for a long moment before he spoke again.

“What of the others?”

“None have demonstrated the skill he has, but some do have Jumat and I believe it correlates to their armor colors.”

“What did he wear?”

“Purple and white. The only one known to bear such markings, but the pinks and golds have also been seen to use Jumat.”

“You said you defeated him?”

“He is smaller and slower. Without his psionics he would not have lasted long, but with Ubven he can lock me in place and run at will. If I engage him again I do not expect different results.”

“No. Now that they know you are here they will target you if possible. I will not risk you again. Stay here and guard against a counterattack, though I do not think they will mount one. Their intent seems to be to evacuate their people. After they are gone they may choose to destroy this construct with us on it.”

“Even with our prisoners?”

“That remains to be seen. It is possible they will try to rescue them first. If that occurs, intervene with their infantry alone. Do not go near their battle suits. They are causing us damage. If they land a blow on you, you will die.”

“Zen’zat know how to evade.”

“Until we learn more about their capabilities it is not worth the risk,” the Brat’mar commander said, flicking his nose horn towards a bit of air that materialized with a hologram showing new battlesuits being deployed.

“These are much larger, and we cannot take them down quickly. They have a free shield and sword and can displace us far easier than I like. We have to attack from moderate range in groups, else they will take us down individually. We can run from them, but it is clear these rogue Zen’zat have been preparing to fight us without the help of their sponsor. Their machines give them a chance, though primarily when they have the advantage of numbers. These new battlesuits that they call ‘Voltrons’ are different. I do not think they can stand up to Hjar’at, but with their physical shield they counter our strength.”

“And if a Zen’zat got close?”

“You would not be able to break your way inside. They have considerable armor in multiple layers surrounding their pilot. Unless the releases can be hacked, you will not be able to fell them.”

“Explosives?”

“Possibly, but others less valuable will test those theories, and without their shields down I see little point. We haven’t been able to claim any wreckage from these Voltrons yet, but if we find a weakness that Zen’zat can exploit I will make use of your skills. Otherwise we will take many more losses.”

“I saw I’rar’et getting slaughtered. What was the source?”

“An even larger battlesuit, equivalent to our Ultras,” he said, pulling up another hologram of a two legged machine similar in structure to the smaller models in use. “They call it a madcat 3, and it has so many missiles that the I’rar’et cannot even get close to it.”

“Countermeasures?”

“They adjust to cluster fire with contact triggers and blanket the airspace with enough weapons that some will hit, and I’rar’et armor is not capable of holding up to that inferno. Fortunately this battlesuit is too large to fit through most of their streets, so it has a limited usefulness here, but can lock down the airspace of select regions that they are routing evacuees through.”

“How many more prisoners do we need?”

“Few, unless they are higher ranked.”

“Shall we arrange an ambush for one of their golds?”

“There are attempts being made, but none have succeeded thus far. They work in concert, save for this Rio. If his capture is unfeasible then we must try to kill and revive others. So far the highest we have is a blue, but his mind is damaged from his injuries and we cannot extract much information from him. If they come for the prisoners make sure they fail…but if you can engineer a higher valued replacement for them, take the initiative…but do not go near their battlesuits.”

“As you wish. Have any attempts been made to recover the prisoners?”

“Twice, but it was minutes after they were captured and before we could get them to proper confinement. It is because of this and the intelligence that we are recovering that I believe they will try for the others if they can find them. We are not going to make it easy for them, lest they expect a trap, but if they do not attempt so before the rest of this construct’s inhabitants are removed, then we will leave before they can turn their naval guns on us. See to it that you are among the first to leave. You are too valuable to the Brat’mar to be lost here. Let the I’rar’et Zen’zat take the risks if they wish. This purge will not end with this fleet. I fear it will take many more to destroy them all, and I do not think they will die quickly. Keep your focus on the longer conflict ahead.”

“As always. My apologies for not completing my mission.”

“Your confirmation of Ubven is suitable compensation. Had we not learned that here and now, we would have lost many more Zen’zat needlessly. Their sponsor’s treason is not your shame. Ubven is reserved for the most sacred of Zen’zat, and with it comes great power. I am satisfied in that he was not able to defeat you. Go and spread your insights with the others so that they might better prepare.”

Kaalo clapped his fist against his chest then turned and walked out of the chamber, his armor reforming across his body as he did so.

3

May 15, 3602

Solar System

Outer Zone

The remaining vessels in the Hjar’at contingent of the V’kit’no’sat fleet assigned to Terraxis, some 243 in number, continued their slow deceleration in the Outer Zone of the star system as they approached what was now clearly visible as a large sensor-stealthed wall, behind which Garrtak knew they’d find the source of the larger ship reinforcements that Star Force had been drawing upon. He expected there to be considerably more here, especially given the size of the wall that could not defeat V’kit’no’sat sensors at this close range.

Thus far Star Force had destroyed far more ships than should have been allowed, and the damage returned to them, while of greater magnitude, was not sufficient for the Hjar’at commander. V’kit’no’sat were meant to dominate, not merely win, so he was taking no chances here and bringing all of his remaining ships, as well as assigning himself to this mission while other races attended to duties amongst the planets as he investigated this deep space outpost…hopefully with a lot more ships he could destroy before they left to reinforce the currently embattled fleets.

Star Force was also beginning to receive reinforcements from outside the system, making their mission here even harder given how long it was taking. They still didn’t know who the sponsor was and the defenses built here, while not V’kit’no’sat designs, were more formidable than expected. Hopefully whoever or whatever was out here would be able to give him some badly needed answers, and if there were crews at this location they would have nowhere to evacuate to. With such low gravity his ships would easily be able to intercept any that fled on their way in towards the star, plus they’d have very little lateral movement capability this far out, making whatever battle occurred here a stand and slug fest that heavily favored the V’kit’no’sat.

To increase his advantage Garrtak brought his entire fleet in towards the same side of the wall rather than spread it out in order to try and intercept fleeing ships coming off various trajectories. He didn’t know how many were waiting for them on the other side, but before they could get there to find out Star Force contacts started popping up above the edge of the wall with alarming speed. A quick sensor focus revealed the use of mooring beams on the far side, which prompted the Hjar’at to slow to a stop prior to the wall and scan it heavily for mooring nodes, but none were being found. If the enemy ships could use them to increase their maneuverability then he did not want to fight on the far side. Fortunately the enemy was being accommodating and coming to the Hjar’at, so he slowly slid his fleet into a defensive arrangement as the long range weapons on both sides began to exchange fire.

The first Star Force ships came straight at the Hjar’at and their larger bulk did little to save them. There was no strategy involved, just a straight line shot to their demise which concerned Garrtak, for this was not how the other ships had been behaving, but he wasn’t going to complain about easy kills so he kept shooting the ships heading for his fleet as more and more began to appear over the edge of the wall. Before long there were so many that they were getting within short weapons range before they could all be destroyed and the true battle began, with the Star Force ships starting to employ basic tactics once they were grouped up, but Garrtak’s fleet was chewing them apart with ease even as he was starting to get outflanked.

But so be it. They were in a perfect defensive alignment with the bulk of his ships situated on a flattened sphere that almost appeared to be a disc that was even with the edge of the wall, affording his ships both cover and maximum firepower at those incoming while allowing the flanks to defend themselves as ships began to pile up on both sides of the Hjar’at and creep around behind them.

The more Star Force vessels that came into play the more return fire Garrtak’s fleet had to weather, but with them targeting only a handful of enemy ships the Hjar’at were able to destroy their larger hulls quickly and efficiently while their own ships angled their shields outward for increased defense and rotated in and out of alignment slowly so fully shielded ships could take their place on the leaded edges of the formation when the weakened ones were near to collapse.

The Hjar’at lost no ships, let alone even a plate of armor, over the first 20 minutes of battle, though they were fully surrounded at that point with more ships continuing to come over the wall of varying sizes, though all of them had the weak, clear armor coating on them that did little against the V’kit’no’sat weapons as they continued to chew up the ships one after another until the sheer amount of Star Force’s weaker weapons began to be felt and the first Hjar’at shield fell.

Garrtak knew to hold position and continue slugging it out, for they were killing so many ships it was well worth it, but as the battle dragged on past an hour and some of his ships were taking serious hull damage he began to get concerned, for the flow of ships over the wall hadn’t diminished. In fact it had been gradually increasing the entire time. Already there were over 5,000 ships here with some 1,300 reduced to debris, but killing them quickly now was not an option and his ships were having to attack to disable the weapons on those nearest rather than tearing apart their hulls just to reduce the amount of firepower they had to whether…in effect using the mass of the attacking ships as shields against the others by plucking their weapons off them.

However, that tactic was countered as the Star Force ships pushed further into the Hjar’at formation even when they had little to fight with, trying to disrupt their firing lines and move them out of position…but the Hjar’at held firm and destroyed any such vessels that did so with a vengeance, then they had to push the debris out of the way and the best route to do that was to shove it either ahead or behind, with Garrtak choosing behind so to clutter the evacuation route the Star Force ships would take when they finally broke their will to fight.

He had designated ships traveling up and down corridors in their alignment dragging debris out of the way easily while other ships found moving sideways painfully hard with no lateral gravity wells to push off of. All they had was a tiny differential from the width of the distant star to work with and some emergency matter thrusters to use, but those where not effective for combat so every ship was aligned facing away from the star and moving on back and forth on paths like a train on tracks, with the cycling of ships from the interior to the exterior being excruciatingly slow save for those ships that were able to latch onto debris and push themselves off it or even the attacking ships when their shields were down.

And Garrtak’s ships were getting good at doing so, bouncing around their formation with far more speed than the plodding Star Force ships were moving and exacting a huge amount of damage for their lack of maneuverability…but still more ships kept coming and within another half hour there were upwards of 10,000 in total, though some 3000 of those were now junk.

But the 7,000 that remained were an even fight for the damaged Hjar’at and more were still coming. Garrtak made the decision to push his formation ahead, which was navigationally easy if the enemy ships weren’t there, because he needed to know how many more Star Force ships were coming in order to judge how to proceed with the battle.

Plowing the road ahead wasn’t quick, but a slight reforming of the disc with weapons trained on individual ships to eliminate, then tractor beams to push their debris or still partially functioning hulks out of the way allowed the Hjar’at to approach the edge of the wall…on which no weapons had been found previously and that didn’t change as they poked their nose over to the far side, seeing that the wall was indeed very thin compared to its width, but it had numerous extensions protruding off the back side where ships were berthed, though most of them were now free and moving towards the top of the wall.

Garrtak realized they’d made a grave mistake despite the kill count they were racking up. There were over 18,000 Star Force ships here compared to his 243, and even if his had been fully intact and shielded he could not have taken that number under these conditions. Their only option now was one that Hjar’at hated to order, but at a time like this there was no other alternative than needless deaths.

He ordered a retreat, but quickly saw that his decision to throw debris behind them to block evacuation lanes was going to cost them more ships, for it was now interfering with their straight line routes out of the engagement…not to mention the Star Force ships had been continuing to fill in behind them to a far greater degree than before.

Garrtak knew they were going to lose most of their ships, but the only chance some of them had to survive was to not let the enemy vessels not yet in the fight join the others, so they began fighting a reverse course and pushing their way through both dead and dying vessels without the ability to clear the debris from their path, so the Hjar’at ships had to tractor to it and swing around, pushing it to the side to propel themselves via inertial reaction, then to yank on it in the reverse to slow their lateral drift…all the while continuing to fight for their lives as more of their own armor was burnt off and hull breaches opened up.

The lack of tactics being displayed by the Star Force ships was now no longer an issue, for the simple and most effective tactic against them was being employed as they fought, with additional Star Force ships coming up over the wall at lateral distances not angling to get behind the retreating fleet, but accelerating out on a straight line to flank and then bypass the Hjar’at ships before creeping in around the debris field that he had ordered created, taking up positions both around and within it and waiting for the Hjar’at ships to approach and try to squeeze through…all the while they would be firing on the V’kit’no’sat ships that were trying to flee.

Garrtak was constantly running numbers through his mental interface, and with his fleet formation getting stretched out to go for the gaps he realized that only a handful of ships were going to make it out, and his was not one of them. Transmitting all relevant data in towards the star so Mak’to’ran could make use of it, he did what any good Hjar’at would do and turned his spines to the enemy, recalling his leading ships back to the others and forming up into a defensive alignment again, shoving off the debris between them even as they were losing ships of their own.

“We die here today,” he told all his remaining ships as they seamlessly slid into formation while they fought, “but we are not going to die running. We are going to stand our ground and bleed the enemy to insure we inflict the maximum cost for this betrayal. Mak’to’ran will complete the mission and uncover the traitors, but we cannot allow these ships to reinforce the enemy or more of our brothers will die. So do your duty to the V’kit’no’sat and deny the traitors this fleet. Take down as many of their ships as you can before you fall, and make these rogue Zen’zat rue the day they ever face another Hjar’at fleet again.”

With that said, Garrtak turned his full attention to denying Star Force every ship he could. The wall was of no consequence and already out of range of medium weaponry, with him having his fleet drifting away from it with the rest of the debris and delaying the new arriving ships a bit longer. He added to this by having his crumbling formation continue to push out lightly through the debris, using some of it for cover as they clawed with every weapon they had at the Star Force warships, destroying so many of them only to have to face fully intact ones following up with machine-like efficiency, grinding down the Hjar’at and plucking away their own weapon systems more often than not.

When his own ship lost forward weaponry he didn’t have the gravity drive power to spin it around fast enough, so he accelerated towards the wall, diving into the Star Force ships and ramming one of them in order to let his aft weaponry target flanking ships. Several enemy vessels took the opportunity and slowly slid in behind him, blocking him off from his fleet until they were destroyed by other nearby Hjar’at vessels, but their debris still partially blocked his view of his kin as his ship tore into all those around them with diminishing results.

Eventually the enemy’s short range streamers burned into the hull nearby his command deck, with the exploding chambers coming his way with telltale pops until the wall to his left joined them. He activated his armor, covering himself with battleplates and shields that kept him alive through the blast to come…then he was bouncing around like debris until two large pieces of ship collided with him in between, crushing what was left of his shields and snapping off several of his spines as his last moments were filled with nothing but rage at the losses these traitors were inflicting upon his troops.

Then another streamer surge burnt through the hull and ended him along with a chunk of his Na’shor.

Mak’to’ran watched from afar as the Hjar’at fleet fell, even as he was being engaged by another Star Force probing attack while the nearby Mach’nel continued to destroy more of their defense stations from range. They could do nothing against it while escorted and it was going to be the key to his conquering this system, but the number of reinforcements Garrtak had discovered sitting behind that wall in deep space worried him, for while many of them had been destroyed many more remained, and they were all of their larger variety and not as easy to kill…except with the Mach’nel. It was better for it to fight them than their smaller ships, for a single shot from it could take down any size vessel the enemy had fielded.

Only their defense stations could withstand a Tar’vem’jic blast, though they could not withstand several in repetition. That meant while a single shot would kill a single ship, mass for mass it would take dozens of shots to their smaller vessels to equal what one would do to their larger ones. Ironic as it was, that meant that near the Mach’nel they did not have to fear those larger reinforcements, but anywhere else in the system they were vulnerable to their numbers and the attrition the enemy was inflicting upon them.

Before it could worsen, Mak’to’ran canceled all other combat assignments within the system save for the Mach’nel and the ships engaged over the Ribbon, pulling back the others to his position with the exception of the Lir’nen fleet, which he sent to augment the Brat’mar as they continued to pry information out of their captives along with a warning to watch the position of those ships near the wall, and if they started to move to reinforce there were to begin evacuating immediately, for Mak’to’ran did not want to have to pull the Mach’nel nor any of its escorts off their current assignment to bail them out. He made that clear in his message to the Brat’mar, then instructed them to dig in and secure as much information as possible up until that eventuality came to pass.

The traitorous sponsor had to be discovered, and while he did not hope that that information would be acquired on the Ribbon, he was fairly certain that the Brat’mar would discover where it could be attained…and then he would take his battered fleet with the Mach’nel at its heart and rip out their secrets from wherever they were buried. After all the losses they’d suffered here, especially Garrtak, the Era’tran was not going to withdrawal without the information they came here for. Once he had it they’d leave the system, deal with whatever internal repercussions resulted, then they’d return with a better prepared fleet and wipe this Star Force scum from the face of the galaxy.

4

May 17, 3602

Solar System

Titan

Sara-012 entered the orbit of the moon along with her Clan Mantle fleet of 46 warships, the most she could grab on the way here, and immediately assumed control of the Star Force fleet holding position over the top of the Ribbon. She could see the larger V’kit’no’sat fleet on the other side and the Shiva units already brought in to counter them, but she knew that a fight right now would result in her loss. The addition of her ships didn’t alter that much, but it was the presence of ground troops from both sides onboard the Ribbon that was contributing to the standoff…along with the fact that the V’kit’no’sat ships would almost all be destroyed if they threw down now.

“Knock, knock,” Sara said, sending a comm signal to Rio’s helmet wherever he was on the artificial landmass inside the giant station. “Guess who’s here.”

“Get your ass down here now,” Rio said with no levity in his voice.

“Fill me in.”

“There’s at least one Zen’zat down here that’s stronger than me and I’m not sure my posse can take him. I need you.”

“How strong?”

“Very. He kicked my ass and I ran away, but they’re holding prisoners we need to get back and I know he’s going to show up again. He hasn’t attacked anything but me the one time.”

“How many prisoners?”

“Not as many as they’ve killed, but they’re here for information.”

“I got the basics from Roger on the way in. Are the Zen’zat really the most trouble you’ve got?”

“No, but we’ve got an agility advantage on the bigger ones. This guy was faster than me.”

“And bigger?”

“Yes.”

“Damn. You think this naval standoff is going to continue?”

“Until they find what they want…which they won’t. We don’t have a sponsor.”

“Well…”

“They won’t find anything about Puff and his buddies, but Ethan is convinced that they won’t accept the idea of rogue Zen’zat doing all this on our own. Especially the psionics.”

“Nefron did help a bit, but I suppose that won’t help here. They’re looking for one of their own?”

“Yeah, and while they’re mind raping the prisoners we’ve got a narrow chance to recover some of them. Otherwise they’re just going to rip them apart when they have no further use.”

“Do you need me, or me and an army?”

“What do you got?”

“Clan Mantle.”

“Send down any mech specialists you have. We’re doing damage but losing a lot of equipment in the process. Brat’mar are a 5 to 1 scenario, and whenever we lose a mech there are Zen’zat assassins roaming to try and pick off surviving pilots.”

“Where are you now?”

“Covering evac routes. We’re about 5 minutes away from another hit. I can see the I’rar’et massing to cover the Brat’mar. They’re going to try to grab some more people and they’re not being hesitant about losses. They’re going for broke no matter what the costs…and we’re not doing a good job of protecting the people when they can just run us over at will.”

“Mechs incoming and I’ll be with them.”

“Hurry,” Rio insisted.

Sara bolted out of the command nexus and got down to the hangar on the warship she’d rode in on, already having summoned the ground troops across the various ships to assemble with a thought, though there weren’t many of them. None of the ships were ground assault models, so she’d just shoved as many units in them as possible when she’d stopped by Miranda and grabbed whatever Clan assets she had available.

So when she got onboard a dropship most of her pre-prepped troops were already ready to drop, then on her order a flock of them headed down to three different entry points into the Ribbon with Sara riding a skeet out across the artificial landscape to nearby Rio’s position where all hell was breaking lose. It stopped atop a low building and she let go of the exterior, letting the pilot join in the battle as she leapt across the street using her jump pack and stuck to the wall of the next building, climbing to the top and continuing her trek across the cityscape until she got near a pool of civilians being funneled into evac ships that were flying off under heavy aerial escort with a ring of madcats on guard in the streets and on top of some buildings to keep the I’rar’et at bay.

Sara dropped down amongst them then began backtracking the flow, running through the crowded streets and leaping over a lot of the congested points until she got to a group of Commandos and a pair of Knights that were fighting off Zen’zat that were poking into the civilian lines with hit and run tactics that were successfully killing many people.

When one jumped down from a building window, shot several people, then sprinted on out the other side, kicking another Commando in the back as he went, Sara took off after him, blowing through the Commandos that got several shots into the Zen’zat’s shielded back…then he disappeared behind a nearby building.

With a mental lock, Sara went after him and caught up fairly quickly, being led into a trap as two Kar’ka suddenly appeared out of nowhere and fired at her.

She caught several Chi’parat on her shields before throwing up a bioshield and sprinting to the side…then redirected with a sliding step towards them, jumping into the air and hammering them off their feet with a pair of Jumat blasts from either arm. That disoriented them long enough for her to land between them and get running to nearby cover, for their weapons were just too powerful to go up against with any longevity. One on one she would have tried to take them, but two plus a nearby Zen’zat was too much given the fact she just got here and wasn’t sure what they were capable of these days.

As she ran she laid down a waypoint behind here, then got around a corner and doubled back, crossing in front of the chasing Kar’ka and knocking them back again with more Jumat, though not taking them off their feet. As soon as she got behind the building wall on the far side she reversed again and came back out right in their faces, jamming them to either side as she passed between them and ran into the Zen’zat behind. Him she punched backward, then ducked underneath his higher torso and shoved his body backward with a combination of Jumat and Lachka as she kept running forward.

The Zen’zat landed hard, rolling over and getting back to his feet as a Knight ran into view and tackled him. The Zen’zat threw him off then got hit by multiple plasma shots as several Commandos came into the street and laid into him. He tried to run but the Knight reached out and grabbed a foot, delaying him long enough to take even more hits as Sara caught up and knocked him back again, separating him from the Kar’ka as she threw up a huge bioshield she knew she couldn’t maintain for long and blocked the Chi’parat shots heading for her and the commandos as they punched through the Zen’zat’s shields and tore into his armor with more troops following them to the waypoint and adding their firepower to the takedown.

The Kar’ka didn’t just stand by and let him die, running/jumping forward all the way up to Sara and the Commandos, but by then there were so many enemies to shoot that they didn’t focus on the trailblazer…which they quickly regretted.

She jumped on one of them, wrapping her arms around its long, thin neck and pulsing her jump pack to drag it down to the ground where the some of the Commandos fired into its shielded belly until it shook Sara off with a strong buck, but she still loosely clung to its neck as it stood up and spun, knocking down a Commando with its tail as the other Kar’ka shot Sara at pointblank range while adding its telekinetic tug against her arms. Between the two of them they pried her off, but by then their shields were dipping so low and so many Commandos were coming that they couldn’t fight them and Sara at the same time, so one of them raced forward and picked up the dead/dying Zen’zat, flipping him over its back with its Lachka before the pair ran off too quickly for the Commandos or even Sara to catch up with.

“Damn they’re fast,” she said, stepping over next to a Commando who was on the ground and still alive, but had a large hole in her chest armor with at least partial penetration. She knelt down and retracted the armor on her right hand. “Cover me.”

The other Commandos and the Knight surrounded her, with the latter’s large shield coming down behind her to provide a physical block as she pushed her bare fingers into the charred gore that sank down an inch into where the woman’s left breast used to be. As soon as Sara made contact she started numbing the pain and cutting down the blood loss, reducing trauma lockdown and a lot of other things to bring the body into a semblance of control as she rushed healing with her Haemra ability to the point where the Commando was no longer in jeopardy of dying, though she was still badly wounded.

“Best I can do,” Sara said, standing up and having the taller Knight take a few steps back, though clearly still protecting the two from any sniping shots.

“That…really hurts,” the Commando said between gritted teeth, and Sara could hear the tears in her voice, but she managed to stand up and retrieve her weapon.

“You,” Sara said, pointing to another Commando that had taken an armor shot, though one that didn’t fully penetrate. “Get her back. The rest of you, cover the evac. They’re trying to bait us out. Hold your ground,” Sara said, not taking her own advice and running off through the perimeter buildings.

By the time she got to Rio he was on the edge of a huge mech fight…like buildings being smashed down mech fight…and she was careful to avoid that and skirt around the edge until she got to him on ground level taking three Zen’zat on the periphery. She sent a mental ping of recognition letting him know she was coming in, then she dove into the combat and started punching and kicking the Zen’zat, getting a feel for their fighting style, speed, and strength before alternating with pulling weapons from her rack and firing a few shots into them…then dropping them and punching some more before telekinetically picking them up and repeating again.

The Zen’zat had an advantage in that their default weapons were on their forearms, leaving their hands free, but they were clearly outmatched by the two Archons. They took down and killed one, then damaged another to the point where the third covered them so they could run…at which point Rio threw up a hand to signal Sara not to pursue, then he walked over and put several more shots into the armor breaches on the dead Zen’zat.

“Don’t get close to the mechs. They’ll try to draw you back there and the Kar’ka are setting up ambushes everywhere.”

“Found one already. How we doing?”

“Badly, but delaying them. You bring me any more mechs?”

“At the LZs and probably on their way here.”

“Come on. Help me hunt down some more Zen’zat. They’re planting explosives and a lot of other nastiness to catch our mechs. We can’t send our infantry against them. We have to use mechs only.”

“Lovely. Lead on.”

Rio took off running to the left and she followed, then they had a hell of day trying to delay the V’kit’no’sat long enough to get this section of the Ribbon fully evacuated…of the living and dead, for if Star Force left the bodies of the civilians they couldn’t protect behind the V’kit’no’sat could revive some of them and add to their prisoner count. As for Star Force, their medical stations were too busy saving the living to try and revive any of the recently dead, and unfortunately they were not as good as the V’kit’no’sat regenerators…a pair of which Rio and Sara were able to steal from some Zen’zat medics during the fighting, which were put to good use saving a handful more of their own as both the troops and civilians pulled out under fire, leaving nothing but mechs remaining that then ran off across the Ribbon in a fighting retreat until the Brat’mar stopped chasing them.

Sara pulled a chunk of her Frieza armor off her leg where the auto-retraction failed due to a melted spot, then tossed it to the ground alongside Rio as he stripped his armor and clothes off and slid into a shower tube. She followed a couple minutes later when he got out, not bothering to dry or drain the water, and allowed her a few minutes to clean up in one of the abandoned buildings within the ‘safe’ zone of another LZ that hadn’t been hit yet aside from a few Zen’zat scouts.

By the time Sara got out Rio was already dressed and back in his armor, but with the helmet and hand pieces retracted as he chewed threw a box of foodstuffs, some of which were ambrosia laced. She got dressed and into her armor minus the damaged piece that she’d have to get replaced, then began eating along with him as they carried on a telepathic conversation covering everything from the varying Zen’zat strengths to mech tactics to planning their incursion to rescue the prisoners…which were being kept at one known location and who knew how many others.

After taking their quick break, the trailblazers headed to an equipment room where Sara got a replacement for her extremely heavy armor and the weapons Rio had requested had been stacked in numerous crates. He opened several of them, pulling out a lot of non-standard weaponry that he knew they were going to need to take down that super-Zen’zat that they’d encountered earlier, for he wasn’t going to be kind enough to stand still and let them shoot him.

Pistols were better than rifles, but what they really needed was more range and more bang, with their plasma weapons not having the same kick as Dre’mo’dons…but unfortunately Star Force hadn’t miniaturized them far enough yet and they’d decided to stick with continually improving plasma weapons until they had.

But since that wasn’t going to be good enough now, Rio grabbed a special gauntlet that attached over his right forearm, elbow, and ran all the way up to his shoulder. Nicknamed a ‘Seru’ it was a tiny mauler that would help penetrate shields as well as tear through armor and would provide a much bigger kick than any of their plasma weapons short of a hand cannon, though the Seru was going to slow down his arm movements appreciably.

“Here,” Rio said, tossing Sara a long narrow cylinder. “You whack, I pop.”

“And us?” Angel-676 said as she walked in with several other Archon ViLords.

“Accessorize as you like,” Rio said as he also grabbed a sword cylinder and attached it to his back rack.

“How are we getting the prisoners out?” Mathis-831 asked, pulling open another crate.

“We probably won’t be,” he answered honestly. “Most will probably die, but if we can even get one out before the V’kit’no’sat kill them it’ll be worth it. We’ll take them out by air if we can, but we’re also configuring some of the mechs with cargo compartments.”

“Do you expect to sneak in?”

“We blast in with mechs and air, then we try and sneak in through all the noise.”

“Just my kind of mission,” Mathis said, pulling out some sticky grenades.

“We’re the only infantry going in.”

“So stay close,” Sara added. “And in battlemeld at all times.”

“All of us?” Darrel-627 asked.

“Pairs at minimum, more when you can manage it. We know there’s one badass out there and there could be others. We gotta kick their ass and not be subtle about it.”

“While pulling out prisoners,” Angel added.

“Anyone we bring out is bonus points,” Rio said firmly. “At the minimum, we don’t let them die in an execution. They go down fighting with us.”

“Extra armor?” Jyra-836 floated.

“We’re not sure how many troops are in there, so we’re not going to take any. We need as much firepower as we can get.”

“Understood,” she said, strapping on an auxiliary shield generator to her right thigh opposite three death sticks on her left.

“This isn’t going to be fun,” Sara said, knowing they all knew it, but feeling it needed to be reinforced. “We have to be the weapon, not the shield. If we pull someone out, we can’t defend them. We have to cover with fighting and give them a chance to run. If we go defensive we’ll get overwhelmed. And if we take too long…”

“…we get stomped on,” Nathan-937 finished. “We know the score. Just promise you’ll kick Superman’s ass.”

“We intend to,” Rio said, now fully geared up, “but he may have friends, so keep an eye out. We have to retreat in the case of a fair fight.”

“Killjoy.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to fight Zen’zat later,” Sara said. “But we have to be cautious with this guy.”

“We’ve got your back,” Angel promised.

“I know,” Rio said sarcastically, “but if you try and block a Brat’mar shot, it won’t go well. Stay away from them no matter how tempting a target they make. Unless you’re in a star of mechs, don’t go near one.”

“Or a Voltron,” Sara added, “of which we’ll have several drawing them off. We stick together and stay away from the big guns…even if it means we have to abort. We are not losing anyone on a rescue mission. Clear?”

“I think the V’kit’no’sat might say otherwise,” Nathan differed, “but I’m game regardless. Let’s do this.”

“Everyone done shopping?” Rio asked, getting nods of confirmation. “Then let’s find our ride.”

5

May 18, 3602

Solar System

Titan

Kevin Sandre flew over the cityscape in a crude block of machinery in a formation with many others behind a wall of skeets and gunships as they headed towards one of the V’kit’no’sat’s main encampments on the Ribbon. Already the I’rar’et had begun nipping at the edges of their formation and were getting beat down by the missiles from the gunships, but now that they were approaching the first defense ring, weaponsfire was starting to come up from troops in and around the crushed cityscape they’d been clumsily remodeling…meaning it was time to land and take this fight to them on the ground.

Kevin trigged the landing cycle, slowing his block to a stop and lowering it to just above the ground as four others hovered nearby. With the dropships landing in the background and spilling out tier 1 mechs, his block began to transform. It altered in shape and began to attach the others around it, eventually forming arms and legs before a head popped up out of the central section where he rode, completing the Voltron-class mech.

He reached a giant hand over his mechanical shoulders and pulled a large, nearly flat shield off his mech’s back and swung it forward as the smaller weapons of the Kar’ka began to spit at them from various bits of surviving buildings. His shield blocked most of that, and with the other Voltrons assembling beside him they came together and formed a loose wall that the other mechs, mostly made up of neos and a mix of madcats and starbrights, lined up behind as they walked forward, slowing forming into a large column that was to meet up with the Brat’mar as skeets buzzed around the sky overhead to keep the I’rar’et from strafing them.

The first cannon-like blasts hit the Voltron shields, absorbing into the energy barrier overtop the physical components before subsequent hits started to tear through here and there and chip away at the armor, but that was the Knight-like shield’s job…soak up hits while the mass of mechs came in closer behind them before finally breaking up and spilling out around the 9 Voltrons and engaging the Brat’mar at close range where they could better flank the heavily armored triceratopses.

Kevin, with his shield almost to the point of burning through in a few places, reached back with his other mechanical arm and pulled a cylinder off his back which he then extended out into a simple bladed sword, then he started his tier 2 mech running forward, taking cover behind the heavy shield as he headed straight into a trio of Brat’mar. He didn’t care how much damage he did to them, for the more shots he took the less the smaller mechs would be hit. The mechwarrior expected his mech to be destroyed, but before that happened he was going to do some damage.

He popped up several shoulder-mounted weapons and fired as he ran, but they weren’t going to do much again the huge bioshields the Brat’mar were throwing up in front of their armor’s own shields, blocking as much incoming fire as his physical shield was. Deciding to force the issue, he ran forward and punched his shield against theirs in what looked like a slow moving collision, but one with a huge amount of kinetic force behind it.

His mech slowed considerably, but he managed to push the Brat’mar back a dozen meters or so until it got its footing and drove itself forward in a short lived contest of strength before Kevin forced his way to the right, trying to get around to its flank, but the Brat’mar turned with him…exposing itself to the Voltron beside Kevin who slammed down on its back with the giant sword it carried.

It didn’t penetrate the shields, much less the armor, but the Brat’mar was forced onto its belly with its legs either crumpling underneath or being forced to the sides, giving Kevin a few steps free of it that he used to get around to its other flank and unload all the weaponry his mech carried into its topside shields as he took another Brat’mar’s cannon shot to the left shoulder where his physical shield was tucked.

It burnt all the way through this time, soaking away some of his mech’s shields as he flipped the sword over in his free hand and brought it tip down on top of the Brat’mar as the other Voltron rushed in and smashed it in the face with its shields, delaying its moving long enough for Kevin to make contact with his sword, whose tip came down with such force that it penetrated the Brat’mar’s shields and put a slight dent in its armor…all the while driving it back down to the ground again with the other Voltron kicking it in the face while unloading its energy weapons onto it.

Their little 2v1 didn’t last long, for Kevin’s right leg was suddenly knocked out from under him as another Brat’mar rammed him. He fell forward over it and took a cannon shot to the chest as a result, but his weight smashed the Brat’mar’s face down momentarily as the two got tangled up on each other…then a pair of neos ran in and started hammering the Brat’mar in the flank even as it threw up its bioshield over its face to protect against missiles coming in from several nearby madcats.

The Star Force focus on those few Brat’mar was too much, and within a few minutes both were killed, but at the cost of many more mechs on the flanks of the formation that were distracting the other Brat’mar long enough to delay their retreating into a more compact grouping that was virtually impossible to break into when they went tail to tail in a circle and threw up their bioshields, giving them heavy protection from all lateral angles of attack.

But Star Force mechs could jump, and Voltrons in particular could fly very slowly when in mech form, so Kevin and two others followed several neos as they ran forward kamikaze style, getting owned by multiple Brat’mar cannon shots, but taking enough hits that the Voltrons could run and slide/jump through the air over the almost locked bioshields and land in the small island inside them.

As soon as that happened the Brat’mar had to break formation, for their hip-mounted weaponry, even coming from dozens of Brat’mar, wasn’t going to be enough to take down the bigger Star Force mechs quickly enough before they could hammer their tails with damage, so the Brat’mar ring pushed out, increasing the spacing between them, then one out of three turned around and attacked the Voltrons with cannon shots, blasting them so hard the Kevin hardly had time to respond. His shield caught a couple, but there wasn’t much left of it and he was getting hit from all sides…then the twin horns on one of the Brat’mar, covered with armor, rammed into his leg and pierced it, skewering his mech and not letting him move with the giant weight now attached to it.

He brought his sword down on the neck of the Brat’mar, but he was going to have to hit it several times to get through its shields and he didn’t have that. His Voltron got torn to shreds first, but even as it was falling to the ground with system after system going offline he saw the outer ring of the Brat’mar formation begin to crumble as Star Force mechs pushed into the gaps and many, many neos started shooting/punching into their flanks, bypassing their heavy bioshields and turning this into a massive brawl…one that he’d have to sit out, for his giant Voltron had been reduced to trash and he was pinned inside it in his armored cocoon, now dependent on a Star Force win or he’d end up becoming another V’kit’no’sat prisoner or casualty.

Yvonne Neir was one of the many mechwarriors being shipped over to the Ribbon from across the star system, but given that they didn’t have the luxury of time those closest had arrived first and were learning the hard way what worked best and poorly against the V’kit’no’sat. She’d come from Triton in a thor, arriving only a few days ago, and what previous battles had learned so far was that the lesser used thors were the best for engaging the Kar’ka.

As such she was following up the main attack ground at a distance as hundreds of Kar’ka were running fast around the battle to try and get behind the Star Force mechs and get at their landing craft if they could get so lucky, or simply circle around behind and pick off weakened or blindsided opponents. Individually a Kar’ka fared poorly against a mech, but put them in groups by the dozens and they were able to pick apart a lone one with alarming speed.

That was why the thors were traveling in skirmisher groups while the neos were in the main attack force. Against the quick moving Kar’ka the neos had trouble getting within hand to hand range, for they’d run or jump out of reach, leaving the neos to fight with ranged weapons for the most part. Madcats were best at ranged combat, but the Kar’ka had learned to get in close to them in order to make the kill, for they were far less maneuverable than a neo and particularly had trouble spinning about in place fast enough to hit Kar’ka behind them…who would just circle with them while firing into their backsides where they had little weaponry.

Thors, however, were more compact, upright mechs with a stiff Humanoid body that were basically walking turrets that had a much better swivel rate at the torso, as well as a rotational spin rate with the mechanical legs, meaning the Kar’ka couldn’t circle them with impunity and the thors outmassed the Kar’ka, meaning they couldn’t knock them down very easily.

Add to that the fact that the thors carried more weaponry than the neos and they became the perfect fit for anti-Kar’ka operations, able to run in straight line speeds at nearly the same velocity while also able to reach out and touch the enemy with various energy weapons when the Kar’ka used their superior agility to suddenly redirect.

Kar’ka weren’t easy kills by far, but thors had a slight advantage on them so long as they didn’t get overwhelmed with numbers and right now the flocks ringing the battle were near to becoming too much too handle…but if Yvonne and the others let them through to the rear of the other mechs they’d tear them apart with swift moving strafing formations while the Brat’mar continued to hammer them from the front.

That wasn’t going to happen today, so with the other four thors in her star they accelerated over a road/debris field towards the nearest point in the surrounding infrastructure where they saw the Kar’ka heading, popping from one bit of cover on the perimeter to another looking for a good ambush angle.

The thors fanned out into an arrowhead formation with Yvonne second on the left, giving them all clear firing lines that they littered with Dre’mo’don blasts, churning up pyres of smoke and debris wherever they hit the ground underneath and around the running Kar’ka. When they got lucky enough to hit one the thors moved in, hammering it as it tried to limp off as the others circled back around and tried to flank the thors, coming around a half destroyed building and hitting them from Yvonne’s left.

She immediately stopped running and spun in place, bringing her arm-mounted Dre’mo’dons around while using the shotgun-like scatterguns to blanket the area ahead of her with tiny, fast moving projectiles. They didn’t do a lot of damage against heavily armored targets, but they were very good against infantry and soaked up a lot of energy from shields...not to mention physically beating back the Kar'ka running towards them and slowing their movements.

Yvonne kept her ‘sprinkler’ on constantly, showering the three Kar’ka at the head of the line as she pelted the area they were in with Dre’mo’don blasts, some hitting some missing, but with the overlapping firepower of the thor beside her they knocked several of the Kar’ka down while more sprinted in past them, drawing attention away and trying to get within very close range where they could unload shots that were not going to miss no matter how much the mechs moved.

As Star Force had seen before and she’d been informed about, the Kar’ka didn’t stand and fight. They blew through, exchanging one attacker for another and leaving none to slug it out, forcing Yvonne to either try and focus on one as it ran past or just shoot everything that came into view.

She chose the latter, just wanting to do shield damage or worse if possible, knowing that her star would add more damage later. Yvonne didn’t need to make solo kills. They needed to work as a unit and wear these fast moving bastards down while holding their ground…but not doing so by standing still the entire time, or the Kar’ka would use that to their advantage.

So after the first few seconds of their hold, their star leader got their formation drifting back out further into the open plane of debris, with Yvonne having to make sure her mech didn’t trip on any of the larger pieces as the five mechs took on a pentagon formation and forced any diving Kar’ka to pass by at least two of them, increasing the odds of them taking major damage before sprinting out the far side.

The mechwarriors watched as their own shield levels dropped considerably, and soon Yvonne was out of sprinkler ammo, leaving her only with her energy weapons. In addition to the Dre’mo’dons she also had some anti-infantry Keema beams of very narrow width that doubled as anti-air along with her Ichods…and she had all of them adding whatever damage they could to the passing Kar’ka, making her and the other thors look like a fireworks platform, throwing so much varied firepower at the attacking flock that the misses were kicking up a huge plume of dust that looked like storm clouds around their drifting formation.

The Kar’ka kept hitting them, drifting further and further out from the cover of the partial buildings until several dozen skeets redirected away from their ongoing battles with the I’rar’et and took it to the Kar’ka…who were too far away from cover now to avoid 6-8 seconds of inferno for those that turned back immediately. Those that didn’t react as quickly to the incoming air strike never made it out.

With the firepower of the 5 thors being able to kill any Kar’ka that stopped moving fairly quickly the skeets focused on wounding as many as they could, leaving Yvonne and the other mechwarriors to run up and hammer them. Their star broke apart with each thor heading in different directions to make the most of the temporary aerial assist and Yvonne racked up another six kills for their unit before the other Kar’ka fled behind buildings and out of her sights, though some of the skeets continued to shoot them from above and she got a targeting waypoint on the far side of the nearest building.

Yvonne took after it, running up to speed and hanging the turn as well as her stiff mech could to find a Kar’ka with a leg missing hopping off as well as it could on one and trailing diminishing drops of blood behind it as the skeets had to break off to deal with a few I’rar’et that were not going to let them keep getting free shots against the Kar’ka.

Yvonne didn’t like taking down nearly helpless targets, but after seeing the information packet all incoming mechwarriors had received that contained the images of unarmed evacuees being shot dead or crushed beneath V’kit’no’sat feet as they fled, let alone picked up telekinetically and torn limb from limb within a second, she knew she couldn’t leave any of these bastards alive or they’d find some way to do more damage. With that in mind she followed up the fleeing Kar’ka and hammered it from decent range with three Dre’mo’don orbs, dropping it to the ground and running up nearby it as two others took Chi’parat shots at her, almost taking down her slowly regenerating shields.

Yvonne knew she had to get back to the others, but she wasn’t going to let this one’s healing tech allow it to survive and be recovered. Firing heavily into the bloody and broken armor, she put enough shots into it that there wasn’t much for the V’kit’no’sat to recover even if they tried…then a group of four Kar’ka emerged around a building chunk behind her and blasted into her rear shields.

They held up a bit longer than the front ones would have, but they still fell before she could turn around…with them blowing past her so fast she had to twist her torso back ahead of her legs to get a shot off at even one of them. It was a clean hit with the Dre’mo’don, but her other weaponry did little more than paint their shields while most of it hit the ground around them.

“Yvonne, what are you doing?” her star leader asked over the comm.

“Making sure one didn’t get back up,” she said, not chasing her new attackers and returning towards the debris plain where the others were. “Heading back,” she added, just as another larger wave of Kar’ka raced into view and they all hammered her right leg…blowing apart the knee and dumping her mech to the ground face first.

6

Rio, Sara, and 13 other high level Archons rode into the battle area on the back of mechs, clinging to them with the grip pads in their armor and dropping off short of the actual fighting and clear of the roaming Kar’ka and Zen’zat skirmishers. The team immediately found an intact building and went underground, deep enough to get past the surface ‘remodeling’ that the V’kit’no’sat had done and made their way through the undercity where the Brat’mar could not follow and the Kar’ka would be so confined their speed and agility would be of little advantage.

That left them with Zen’zat to worry about, but the Archons progressed a remarkably long way before even catching the smallest hint of a mind below ground. As per instructions, all of them except Beth-5311 were traveling with their Kgat enabled, shielding their minds from detection but likewise blinding their own Ikrid senses. The single Archon that was visible to the Zen’zat was also sensing them and the V’kit’no’sat above and guiding the team via battlemap and comm, for her telepathy wouldn’t reach the Archons only meters away so long as they were mind shielded.

The Zen’zat that came to intercept Beth didn’t recognize the trap until he was within Pefbar range, but by then it was too late because when Sara and Rio exposed themselves to view they reached out with their combined Lachka, amplified by their battlemeld Nemsa, and wrapped an invisible band around the Zen’zat that he could not break easily. It prevented him from running away until the Archons were on top of him, then they beat/blasted through his shields and armor until they were able to pry a piece of it off.

Sara retracted the armor on her right hand as the others kept the Zen’zat physically subdued, then when she touched his exposed skin and bypassed his Ikrid blocks the combination of her and Rio’s mind quickly broke through his mental resistance. They held position while the other Archons fanned out into a small perimeter, getting loads of information from him, most pertinent of which was the location of the prisoners.

They were being held in three different spots in this camp and routinely mind raided for information as hunter teams were occasionally bringing more in from across the Ribbon. The Archons also confirmed that several of their own had been taken prisoner and were the focus of interrogation, but those civilians that proved of little use were being sucked dry of all pertinent knowledge then summarily executed.

Sara finally stood up in disgust, wanting to dig through more information but knowing there wasn’t time. The V’kit’no’sat expected Star Force to come for the prisoners, but this one didn’t know about any actual traps laid and she wasn’t about to send two of her team back to take this Zen’zat with them for further interrogation. They were going to need all 15 of them to have a chance of getting anyone out.

“Take his armor off,” she said, knowing that there were no external releases available when in combat mode without the proper codes, and only other V’kit’no’sat armor contained them so an enemy couldn’t compromise the defenses of a pinned or fallen ally…but the Archons had incorporated the codes they had into their own armor and they weren’t working on this one. Apparently an upgrade had been made over the years or the codes had been specifically changed when they came here hunting rogue Zen’zat. If this one had been a bit weaker she would have taken control of his mind and had him remove it, but there was considerable resistance to that invasive of a mind raid.

They might have been able to do it if they all joined up in a single battlemeld, but 15 minds together was not something easily done and it would reveal the presence of all the Archons to anyone else in range, most of which were still hiding themselves with Kgat, though this Zen’zat had reported that there were multiple Archons here before he had been subdued, meaning the V’kit’no’sat there was more than one of them underground at this point.

The Archons shot, pried, and punched his armor into pieces until they could pull the unconscious Zen’zat completely out while Rio maintained a hand on him at all times to insure the rough extraction didn’t wake him back up. Keeping his mind suppressed wasn’t hard now that he’d knuckled under, but with the Ikrid block it did require a hand on him at all times.

Meanwhile Sara took a few Archons and moved ahead, securing their route and ready to intercept the Zen’zat they knew would be coming. Not wanting to kill their Zen’zat prisoner but knowing they couldn’t allow him to rejoin the fight, they did the next best thing by destroying his armor and taking his single free weapon with them far enough that they could stash it in a room that he wouldn’t find. They left the armorless Zen’zat in one of the underground chambers in the deepest sleep Rio could manage then moved on, knowing that unless he was suicidal the Zen’zat couldn’t fight until he got another set of armor, and he’d have to retreat all the way into their camp to do it…and by the time he did this battle would already be over, one way or another.

Rio’s group caught up with Sara and they all ran hard towards the farthest prisoner encampment, knowing that they weren’t going to be able to get to all three, but expecting the V’kit’no’sat to be waiting at the closest one for them. Beth and two others continued on that direction, with only her mind visible, then she went dark as well and backtracked to a predetermined rendezvous point, after which all the Archons moved through their own city with ease under the Ikrid invisibility that Kgat provided until they physically ran into another Zen’zat several kilometers later.

Knowing that a simple comm would have revealed their position, the leading Archons let go of their Kgat and killed the Zen’zat after a brief, one-sided fight. She was outnumbered and couldn’t run, especially from the trailblazers, and they didn’t have time to take more prisoners. Two more Zen’zat found them later, attacking in a pair, but they too were overwhelmed…either not having received a heads up to the numbers they were facing or not realizing how strong these Archons were.

But that was as far as the easy combat went, for when they soon came to the underside of where the prisoners were being held they ran into more than a dozen Zen’zat waiting for them and could sense both Kar’ka and at least one Brat’mar on the surface.

What happened next surprised the Zen’zat, and Rio assumed the Brat’mar and Kar’ka had to be monitoring somehow, for the Archons, when going against slightly greater numbers of Zen’zat, inexplicably were able to disable and disrupt their opponents with far more than Fornax. As far as he knew, the V’kit’no’sat were not aware of the battlemeld psionics written into the Zen’zat genetics by the dragons, and if that were so then this was the first time they’d ever encountered them being used.

Rio didn’t think they understood what was happening, but when the supposedly equal forces clashed in the corridors of the undercity the Archons owned them from the first exchange of fire, getting up into melee range and never letting them retreat. The Zen’zat weren’t easy or quick kills, but none of them could focus long with multiple Lew conduits bypassing their Ikrid blocks and jamming whatever premade thoughts were wanted into their minds…whether it be disabling freezes, ghost images, or sensory overloads…every time they passed between a linked pair of Archons.

Physical Neofen conduits knocked them down clothesline style and a multitude of other battlemeld techniques let the Archons literally wreck the defensive Zen’zat forces in remarkably little time compared to the throwdown that was expected…with the Brat’mar on the surface responding by opening fire on the building where the prisoners were being held.

“Shit,” Rio said, heading for the nearest stairwell or elevator he could find as the others scrambled after them. By the time they got to the surface the building was junk and the minds in it were gone, but the Brat’mar, 5 Kar’ka, and a handful of Zen’zat were still there, firing into the rubble intent on not allowing the Archons any recovery of the prisoners…then the Brat’mar turned towards them and fired a cannon shot into the doorway they were coming out of.

Linked as they were in pairs and trios, they were able to see it coming and dodge out of the way…then all 15 of them were in the streets and facing off against more than just Zen’zat.

“Take them,” Sara said, even as Rio telepathically told two of the ViLords to head for the destroyed building and see if they could dig someone out. That left 13 Archons against the Brat’mar and company, and despite the stupidity of attacking one without a mech, neither Rio nor Sara were afraid. They were both enraged and going to take at least a few seconds to do as much damage as they could before they were forced to flee. It might not have been the most prudent course of action, but after all the prisoners he’d just killed they wanted the Brat’mar. The rest were just bonus points.

Rio and Sara extended their battlemeld out to two more ViLords, greatly increasing the stress on their minds but not beyond practiced tolerances. With their combined Ikrid they reached out and sparred with the Brat’mar even as it fired at them with its secondary weapons and the Kar’ka didn’t back down either. The other Archons knew to deal with them and the Zen’zat, giving the most powerful quartet their opening.

This Brat’mar’s mind was large, as Rio guessed all of them would be given the amount of brain tissue they possessed, but it was not particularly skilled. The four Archons were able to jam a freezing impulse into it fairly easily with Rio and Sara actively fighting countermeasures, both autonomic and conscious, with the help of one of the ViLords while the other created and maintained the impulse…causing all of its weaponry to cease firing and it to stand still like a statue as the four Archons ran towards it untouched.

Rio unloaded his baby mauler into its shields as they continued to fight with its mind, trying to trick it into doing what they couldn’t force it, for like the Zen’zat it wasn’t a pushover like the lizards were, and its shields and armor were so thick that it would take forever for the Archons to blast their way through…with their attack doing little more than provide visual cover for the true conduit of their assault.

Meanwhile the other Archons were using their battlemeld techniques to great effect against the Kar’ka, though they often had to jump into the air to get their Lew to cross the heads of the taller, chicken-shaped dinosaurs, most of which had a height of over 3 meters, but they did not have the same Ikrid blocks that the Zen’zat had, and with some work the ViLords managed to take control of one enough to trick it into shooting the Brat’mar.

Its Chi’parat weren’t all that strong, but they were far more powerful than anything the Archons carried…and the sight of that happening sent the V’kit’no’sat into a flurry, for it wasn’t just one shot that landed, but several in a row before the Kar’ka momentarily shook off the Archons’ hold…and it looked like there was a traitor in their midst.

Two of the Zen’zat, apparently loyal to the Brat’mar, turned on the Kar’ka instantly and attacked it, not even bothering to mess with the Archons anymore…and that gave Rio an idea.

Their hold on the Brat’mar lessened, allowing it to see clearly what was happening around it as the weak Kar’ka shot it again, then had to fend off the two Zen’zat as the rest of the fighting finally contributed a Zen’zat death at the hands of the Archons, but with many others showing armor damage and two of the Kar’ka with bleeding punctures…but it was nothing compared to the damage the Brat’mar inflicted when it shot the Kar’ka with its cannon blast, ordering the Zen’zat back just as it fired and catching the other V’kit’no’sat completely off guard, for as far as it knew it was the Zen’zat that were the traitors.

The Kar’ka’s shields, already weakened by the Zen’zat attacks and Archons, popped instantly under the heavy energy blast that proceeded to tear through the body armor and gut the Kar’ka in explosive fashion, spraying charred bits of skin and internal organs everywhere…with the other Kar’ka immediately turning on the Brat’mar in a fury and completely ignoring the Archons who quietly turned and backed off the big boys. Some of the Zen’zat were still trying to take them down, but with a few evasive moves the Archons retreated into the nearby buildings and the Zen’zat that followed them soon wished they hadn’t…all the while the rest had to pick sides as the two V’kit’no’sat races fought it out with messages and reports flying through their comm grid for all to see.

And as subsequent notice was taken, the Archons were no longer involved. Leaving only V’kit’no’sat fighting V’kit’no’sat and making them all wonder if one of these two races wasn’t the secret sponsor of Star Force now backstabbing the others.

“Damn that was brilliant,” Sara said as they met up with the two ViLords they’d dispatched into the rubble and who were now carrying four bodies, two apiece, though several had missing limbs and huge gashes where building rubble had skewered them…but the bleeding had been stopped and temporary heals were keeping them barely alive after the Archons had managed to bring them back from the dead with their Haemra.

“Can they travel?”

“We’ve got them buttoned up as much as we could. There’s a few more that might be recoverable, but I don’t know if they could make it back.”

“Rio,” Sara said, picking up one of the living pieces of cargo to lighten the ViLord’s load.

“I’ll check. Angel, Mathis, with me,” he said as they split up with the main group taking the four recovered prisoners back through the underground as quickly as they could manage, hoping the distraction up top would keep the V’kit’no’sat preoccupied long enough to allow them an easy run back to the mechs.

Rio and his two ViLords headed the other way, working their way back up and to the destroyed buildings where they found bits and pieces of buried bodies with their Pefbar under the rubble and went to the most intact one they could find…which was missing a right leg and right arm. They dug him out of the debris, seeing that most of his bones were crushed but his head was only superficially wounded…meaning they had a chance.

“I’ve got him,” Rio said, with the other two trying to find someone else to potentially save. The trailblazer bared his left hand and pressed it again the gore, hacking into the deactivated nervous system all the while keeping an eye on the surrounding minds that were busy fighting it out and ignoring them…save for one that was heading their way.

“Got him,” Angel said, leaving Mathis to try and dig out the other body while Rio kept working on his, causing flash growth in vital places but finding so much damage that…

He broke contact the moment he recognized the incoming Zen’zat mind.

“Angel, get back now! You can’t take him,” the Frieza said, jumping to his feet and pulling Mathis off as well, but Angel was already within firing range and the Zen’zat wasn’t going to let her retreat. He ran her down with ease and punched her so fast she couldn’t respond, with her pink armor bouncing into the ground as Rio flew into view and tackled the Zen’zat off her.

He threw Rio off him in the following roll, then went back towards Angel as she got up…but Mathis came in just in time for him to link with her and they split directions around him, sending a Lew conduit straight through his head as he reached out and grabbed her arm.

She broke free as soon as the Zen’zat staggered with disorientation, then Rio linked with the pair of ViLords…taking a quick mental glance around the area to make sure there were no other Zen’zat heading in…then as a battlemeld-linked trio they grabbed him with their combined Lachka and pulled him towards them through the air, only to be defeated by a hasty Rentar pulse that broke their grip, but the Zen’zat landed off balance long enough for Mathis to get in his face and hammer him back with an Archon punch to the pelvis.

Rio pushed Angel out past the Zen’zat’s left, dragging another Lew energy ribbon stretched between her and Mathis through the Zen’zat’s head, trying to freeze him up for a second but only managing to slow him a bit, but it was long enough for Rio to get in near him and fake a punch…only to pull back defensively into a crouch as Angel came flying through the air on the end of a Bataf conduit as Rio pulled her to him.

Her feet landed in the Zen’zat’s back, shoving him into Rio where the trailblazer knocked out his legs and sent him spinning overhead, with the Archon pointing his arm at the Zen’zat afterwards and unloading a couple of mauler blasts as the bigger warrior righted himself and dove back towards Rio with the two exchanging blows for a few seconds and Rio losing out, especially with his heavy right arm carrying the mauler, but the few Dre’mo’don shots the Zen’zat got in on him were worth the beatdown that the two ViLords laid on him from the sides.

All three grabbed him with another Lachka field, which he responded to with a Rentar pulse to break it and free himself, but in that bit of delay both Mathis and Angel pulled out a death stick and jabbed them into his armor…Angel into his back and Mathis into his right leg…with the resulting explosions blowing through his shields at both points and leaving him with large craters of armor damage beneath.

7

Sara!

The trailblazer skidded to a halt at the telepathic yelling of her name, then motioned for the Archons around her to keep going as some slowed and looked back.

“Go and keep going until you get them out of here,” she said as she started running the opposite way, heading for where she felt Rio’s mind. It wasn’t holding still, but coming her way in short little bursts that suggested he was retreating along with the other two Archons engaging in similar movements.

Coming! she replied as the level 3 Frieza ran through the various corridors and turns in the undercity, sensing a growing fight happening up on the surface between the V’kit’no’sat and each other, hoping it would continue for some time before they got things straightened out.

Rio threw another Jumat blast at the Zen’zat, barely knocking him off Mathis before he added to the crack in the Archon’s armor. Angel tried to bounce hit the Zen’zat from behind while he was off guard, but he was too fast and turned on her, slapping aside one of her arms and getting a hand on her throat. Slippery as it was to touch shields, his grip didn’t falter and he used his formidable strength to pick her up and throw her at Rio as he flew a few steps forward.

The trailblazer, still linked with both Archons through the battlemeld, twisted to his left while Angel did so the opposite way midair, causing the two to brush each other but not collide as the Zen’zat intended. Rio passed her by and landed a punch followed by a mauler shot that took down the Zen’zat’s shields again, then Rio backed up a step and played defense as furious blows came his way. Ever since the two ViLords had managed to detonate their death sticks on him the Zen’zat had shown a strength that Rio hadn’t seen before, and it was all they could do to manage a fighting retreat while trying to whittle down his defenses.

Rio received a battlemeld prompt from Sara when she got in range, accepting it immediately and feeling his head tighten up with the increased stress, for there were now four of them in the link, but even before she came into view their comms activated and a very familiar battle song began to play, making it clear that Sara…in addition to spending too much time around Paul…had no intention of helping them retreat. She intended to take this bastard down.

Angel and Mathis felt it too, and their movements suddenly shifted from one of controlled panic to determination as they pressed off one another with a Bataf conduit that spread them apart so fast that the Zen’zat couldn’t hit Mathis with another hammer blow, though he did manage to follow up with a Dre’mo’don at a few meters range that melted a new spot on the pink armor.

The Archons had been drawing the Zen’zat further and further underground and away from the ruckus up top, and with no other Zen’zat minds nearby Rio knew they had their opportunity. If they couldn’t take him down here, then they’d at least find out what the depths of his strength truly were.

Sara finally emerged in the corridor behind them some 150 meters away and took off sprinting towards the fight as ‘Duel of the Fates’ played over their comm channel, and fittingly so she didn’t pull out a ranged weapon as she approached, but rather a long cylinder that quickly expanded into a double-bladed staff. It wasn’t a plasma sword or any other type of energy weapon. Just a solid, durable stick.

When she got closer and Rio was punching and kicking in defensive blocks, Angel connected to her with a Bataf conduit and pulled her through the air at increasing speed, throwing her at the Zen’zat.

Sara spun vertically like a buzz saw, but the Zen’zat saw her coming and ducked in time. She passed over his head, nearly hitting him with the end of her sword, then unfurled and landed a few meters away as Rio extricated himself from the fight with a hasty Lachka wall that the Zen’zat didn’t even bother to try and break through. He turned to face Sara as she took her two-handed grasp on the long black rod and stepped into him, swinging with short, choppy strikes and taking advantage of the experience of the other three as they saw through her eyes and vice versa.

The Zen’zat flicked away several hits on his arms then dove forward trying to knock her down, but only succeeded in landing a couple Dre’mo’don shots when his fists fell short. Sara hopped back gracefully, then took a step back in and whacked him across the side of his head as Rio shot him with his mauler, melting a little armor only to be grabbed by a Lachka field and pulled towards the Zen’zat.

He reacted, pulsing his Rentar and breaking the grip, but it off balanced him enough for the Zen’zat to get moving his way. Rather than try to fight or run, Rio let himself fall to the ground face up, and as the Zen’zat came over him shoved a Jumat blast upward that lifted the green/black armor into the ceiling with a crunch.

Sara stepped under him as he fell, swinging one end of her sword up but she was knocked back by another Lachka push, this one coming instinctively at the end of a flattened palm from the Zen’zat, suggesting that his mental fortitude was flagging a bit if he was having to rely on physical triggers to use the psionic, as he knocked her and then Mathis back, but he didn’t get Angel who was coming in a step behind and dove at him with her last death stick.

The Zen’zat couldn’t dodge in time, but the weapon never hit his armor. Instead a bioshield emerged and took the brunt of the condensed Ta’lin’yi, absorbing all of the one shot weapon as the Zen’zat brought his knee up and kicked Angel back, firing three Dre’mo’don shots into and through her shields as she fell before Sara knocked him aside with a whack of her sword and Rio told the other two Archons to stay back and snipe when they could.

The top Archon pulled out his own cylinder and extended his single blade sword, also a simple rod, and together with Sara they went at the Zen’zat who kept putting Dre’mo’dons into them routinely and eating away their shields…but the two trailblazers had no intention of letting him do that anymore, forcing him to block their sword strikes from both sides while Sara engaged and sustained her Da’nu. The tier 2 psionic was a rare one, and it allowed her to emit a field of energy that interfered with both her and everyone else’s Pefbar within the area of effect.

That made her, Rio, Mathis, Angel, and the Zen’zat unable to see aside from with their own eyes, and with the two trailblazers attacking him from both sides that was a significant advantage…in addition to neutralizing everyone’s Lachka, for Pefbar was the guiding mechanism for it, and if they couldn’t control it they couldn’t use it.

Almost immediately the Zen’zat turned his full fury on Rio, ignoring Sara and jumping/clawing his way into physical contact with the Archon and pumping Dre’mo’don shots into his armor, burning away his recovering shields and putting a melt mark on his upper torso…then the Zen’zat latched onto him as he rolled, throwing the trailblazer into Sara and bowling her over as the other two Archons got some plasma shots off at him from range, adding a little bit more damage to his armor.

The Zen’zat ignored the trailblazers and went after the weaker two, springing towards them and sending out a Fornax blast just prior to reaching them. It didn’t have full effect, for both ViLords had Snu that greatly reduced its influence over them. They remained standing and used their battlemeld Cerden, linking their bioshields into a much stronger barrier and put it out in front of them like a wall as the Zen’zat ran into them. His Dre’mo’dons absorbed into it, as did his momentum, giving the pair a moment to charge one of the most powerful battlemeld abilities.

The Zen’zat hammered his fists into the bioshield, pushing the pair back a step as they dropped to their knees to get better leverage, then they released the amount of energy they’d summoned into their Jumatran…and shoved an upgraded, mutual Jumat blast into him so hard he flew all the way back to the two waiting trailblazers several meters down the hall.

Sara and Rio both hit him midair with their swords, bringing him to the ground as Rio poured three mauler blasts into his armor, finally breaking through in one spot and hearing the Zen’zat roar in pain as he sent a wind-like Lachka pulse off him, but unable to control the energy matrix and make it do more than tickle. Sara tried to drive her sword tip into the breach in his armor, but the Zen’zat twisted around to deny that and started firing with both forearm weapons into Rio, not bothering to try to close range with him.

The trailblazer took hits, but Sara was on the Zen’zat before he could truly lay in the damage, striking him in the head with her double-bladed sword so hard he half spun over, landing face down for a moment before leaping up and running off…but a quick Ubven drop by her froze him in place, though she had to remove her Da’nu jamming in order to make it work.

The Zen’zat pulsed his Rentar, eating away at and pushing through the field in slow motion as Rio ran up through it easily, for which his own Ubven allowed via a special energy neutralizer, and he began punching him in the back relentlessly, intending to disorient and daze more than damage, then when the Ubven field finally fell he knocked the Zen’zat to the ground and dropped his own down on top of him…but not before an elbow came up and knocked Rio off him.

The trailblazer recovered quickly as Sara ran out ahead of him, making sure he couldn’t escape, then Rio landed a few more mauler blasts that met the Zen’zat’s bioshield, finally breaking through it as the other two Archons caught up and dropped their Ubvens on the Zen’zat in sequence, allowing them all to hammer him with energy weapons but nothing physical aside from their bodies. Even their swords would have caught on the field, though they were made for more for leverage against armored targets rather than damage, and the other weapons the Archons had brought with them were pouring it out now, including a sticky grenade from Mathis, as the Zen’zat pushed his Rentar as hard as he could to eat his way through the field as he walked towards Sara fighting an invisible hurricane trying to hold him in place.

The armor on his back breached in several places when the grenade went off, with bits of flesh being burnt as the final field saturation failed and he was free again…with the Archons requiring quite some time for their Ubven tissues to regenerate enough strength for a second drop. The Zen’zat, clearly enraged but not stupid, screamed telepathically so hard that all four Archons heard it as he charged Sara, throwing another Lachka attack on her that she slipped out of with her Rentar, but not before he punched her into a nearby wall as he ran past and sprinted away.

Rio flashed past, tearing after him with Sara in hot pursuit a few steps behind, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t going to catch him. Rio surged onward, flying/running down the corridors and catching up until the Zen’zat suddenly reversed course and punched him hard.

Rio half dodged it, but careened off the misaimed blow and into the wall. The Zen’zat shot him multiple times, with Rio’s own bioshield taking some of the hits as Sara caught up with Mathis and Angel trailing farther behind, but before she could strike him he took off running again and Rio sensed two minds pop into view further ahead…then three more.

“Damn it!” Sara yelled, sensing the other Zen’zat approaching. “We had him!”

“I know,” Rio said, getting to his feet and running the opposite way back to the pair of ViLords, who then led them away rather than falling in behind so they could maintain the top speed possible…which was always determined by the slowest of them. “He’s not going to try taking us solo again.”

“Crap,” Angel said as they all sensed more Zen’zat coming down around them, including a few ahead.

“Blow through,” Sara ordered. “They can’t beat us unless we stand and fight or go up top and play with the big boys.”

“The others look like they’re clear,” Mathis said as they released their battlemeld and the stress in their minds lifted. “Are we going to try for the other prisoners?”

“Yes,” Rio said, surprising Sara. “Mr. Badass is hurt and we may not get another shot at this. Go dark and take the main line to the left ahead. We’ll work our way from there and at least find out if any of them are still alive.”

“We need the others,” Sara reminded him.

“They have a job to do, and if they can get back here in time so be it, but getting those four out is paramount. I’m not drawing any of them off until they’re safe.”

“You three are beat up,” she argued.

“Then you can do most of the ass kicking if needed.”

“Alright, we’ll have a look. But we can’t take on a Brat’mar with just four of us and do more than tickle him…and by now they’ve probably got a lot more guards on them.”

“If they haven’t made adjustments yet I don’t want to waste the chance of getting one more person out.”

“Agreed,” Sara relented, using her Kgat and disappearing from the minds of the others along with losing her Ikrid tracking of them as well, but with their Pefbar and battlemap there was no issue of them getting lost. They just couldn’t spot the Zen’zat closing in on them, but with the change of direction and their familiarity with the subsurface Star Force structures they were soon able to elude the enemy and began making their way to one of the other two prisoner holding areas within the huge V’kit’no’sat camp.

Kaalo kept running away from the Archons until his Zen’zat got to him, then he turned around and was ready to fight if they were still pursuing, but unfortunately they were not. He sensed them running off like the cowards they were, but at least they were pragmatic. There was no way they were going to win now and they knew it.

The Tiparen-level Zen’zat balled up a fist and punched one of the Star Force walls in anger/frustration, breaking through it and creating an impact crater around the penetration point as his fellow Zen’zat stood by waiting to follow his lead.

“Make sure they leave the area,” he said, pointing them ahead.

The other Zen’zat ran on by, leaving him to walk back towards the surface as he used his Sesspik to begin healing his injuries, which were significant. He’d learned long ago to not let pain slow him down in battle, but the wounds into his back and chest were deep enough that he had to force himself to stop and hold still long enough to fully stop the bleeding, though most of his wounds were nearly cauterized to begin with.

When he finally got back to the surface there was a gunship waiting to pick him up that flew him across the distance he normally would have ran, but from its elevated viewpoint he could see the continuing battle on the perimeter of their camp where the Star Force battlesuits were attacking in far greater numbers and being torn apart methodically. He did not fear them taking the camp, but he did know that there were many Brat’mar and Kar’ka going down out there.

When the gunship landed near a medical station he triggered his damaged armor to shed all non-responding components, with a shower of sand-like material falling away before the rest retracted back into the typical forearm gauntlets, leaving the burn marks in his clothing and body where the Archon weapons had burnt through…though it was their simple rods that had given him the most trouble, and that was an embarrassment he did not tolerate well.

“Do you want a Kich’a’kat?” a Zen’zat medic asked when he walked in and the extent of his injuries became visible.

“No,” he sneered in disgust. “Use the gel.”

“If you wish, but you’ve lost a lot of muscle mass. I’m surprised you can even stand up straight,” he said as another Zen’zat pulled out a canister and brought it over.

“I have no patience for the ignorance of medics,” he snapped, but made no further retort.

“How did they beat you?” the medic inquired, respectful but stern as he opened the canister and the pair began pulling out small amounts of glowing gel with their own Lachka and pushing it into the charred remains of his flesh at the wound points. It began dissolving all dead tissue and spurring the normal regeneration of tissue immediately without enacting the flash growth that would deny the muscle tissue the adaptation enhancement from the wounds’ recovery.

“There were four of them and they were all steeped in treason,” Kaalo growled, but his ire wasn’t directed at the medic. “They have psionics they have not earned, and a great deal of them. All four of them had Ubven.”

Both medics froze, aware of what the tier 3 psionic was but never having encountered anyone who had actually possessed it, for it was extremely rare.

“All of them?” the second medic asked.

“Indeed,” Kaalo said, sneering against the burning sensation of the gel as it worked deeper into his wounds, not harming any living tissue but energizing it in a very uncomfortable fashion.

“If you are needed immediately for battle, why not use the Kich’a’kat?”

“There is no immediate need. The cowards fled.”

The medics continued in silence for the next minute, filling every charred crater with a pale while glow until all were attended to.

“Finished,” the medic said, pulling off the tatters of Kaalo’s shirt and offering him a new one.

The tier 4 Zen’zat put it on slowly, not wanting to disrupt the gel any more than necessary, then headed for the door as his armor redeployed across his body in a quick wave of what looked like liquid material until it hardened.

“You will be needed shortly,” he said as he left, though it would be more than an hour before the wave of Zen’zat casualties started coming in.

8

The Voltron’s physical shield smashed down into the rubble, blocking a Brat’mar cannon shot headed towards the Archons carrying the prisoners as they came up to the surface behind the battle lines that were falling apart. The V’kit’no’sat had suffered a lot of casualties but the Star Force mechs were dropping far faster and recovery operations of downed pilots was taking priority as they started to fight a withdrawal after the Archons reappeared…with their location being swarmed by the V’kit’no’sat nearby.

A neo ran up and punched a Kar’ka back as it jumped over a limping madcat to try and get a shot at the Archons as numerous Zen’zat were now pouring out of the subsurface corridors everywhere, but staying in the shadows and out of the line of fire trying to get a chance to take out either the Archons or the prisoners. Why it was so important to get them the mechwarriors didn’t know, but they’d be damned if they were going to let those bastards get through to their people.

A second Voltron ran over and blanketed one area of partially constructed buildings with weaponsfire, chasing several Zen’zat contacts back underground as the 11 Archons continued to run with their four recovered prisoners at the center of their tight formation with numerous bioshields deployed to hit anything that got through. Further back, having stayed out of the heaviest fighting, several madcats ran forward, firing from their arm- and chest-mounted weaponry at distant targets and Zen’zat trying to get out ahead of the retreating Archons, but with their missile boxes remaining silent, as they had been throughout the battle.

Two madcats stayed on a direct course to the fleeing Archons while the others fanned out into a perimeter as they stopped, firing at anything that moved while the missile boxes on the two opened up…revealing empty compartments inside as the mechs stooped down as low as they could on their legs.

Two of the Archons jumped up on the mechs and climbed into the missile boxes, then using psionics pulled the prisoners up to them, locking them inside while the rest of the Archons headed for other missile boxes, cramming inside as the two mechs scooped up the vulnerable infantry and spun around, running away from the retreating formations and getting their precious cargo clear while the other madcats stayed and helped to collect pilots recovered from both downed mechs and skeets as the battle was switched to a high speed retreat.

Those mechs that fell on the way out caused minor delays, for Star Force intended for no one to be left behind…though the four Archons still inside the enemy camp were an exception. The trailblazers had ordered the mechs to get clear after they determined there were no more prisoners to be recovered. The other two groups had been either destroyed or moved, and the Archons were going to make their own way out.

The mechwarriors didn’t like that, but they weren’t going to disobey two trailblazers. The plan had been to pull all of them out, but if they could get clear on their own it would save a lot more mechs. With that in mind the battle slowly disintegrated as the V’kit’no’sat chased after them until some clever ambushes discouraged the practice and the two sides retreated to their respective strongholds.

Star Force’s was well off, but flocks of dropships came in once the area was safe and picked them all up, including the madcats with the four prisoners, and took them back to one of the Star Force-held spaceports.

“Damn it,” Sara said as her four-man team stayed under Kgat anonymity and moved even further inside the V’kit’no’sat camp…the last place they were expected to go. They had decided to try the trick after heading for the edge and making sure they were seen traveling that direction, with them doubling back and going after the prisoners that had been moved. Their search had brought them near a V’kit’no’sat landing zone where they saw them being loaded onto a gunship that had just taken off, headed for one of the giant doors in the sky that led back into space.

“We can’t get them now,” Angel said, angry but pragmatic.

“That was only three of them. Where are the others?” Mathis asked.

“Good question,” Rio agreed, “but Angel is right. We can’t signal the fleet in time to intercept, and if we did we’d pull them down on top of us here. We’ll review the logs and see where that gunship went, then tag the ship with a marker for potential capture later. Odds are that won’t be an option, though.”

“I hate these fuckers,” Angel added as the Archons pulled back from their observation point just above ground and took to the subsurface tunnels again, crawling through a layer of debris until they got into the intact substructures.

“Where we going?” Mathis asked.

“Does anyone have any memory of where they might have split the others off?”

“No,” Sara said icily. “Think they used those three as decoys.”

“Meaning they’re still here,” Mathis argued.

“We can’t keep roaming around pressing our luck. If we don’t know where to look we need to get out of here before they decide to start blasting.”

“Without the mechs they can focus on us now,” Angel agreed. “I don’t like leaving, but we can’t let ourselves be captured either. Question is, do we bag one of them on the way out?”

“No,” Rio said, heading down a tunnel of his choosing with the others following. “We move fast and far. We’re ghosts until we get in the clear.”

After that there was no more talking, only single file running and silence until they got well beyond the boundaries of the V’kit’no’sat camp and to a working transit hub, then they took a train car through subsurface landscape all the way back to the edge of the nearest spaceport and got off where the damage the V’kit’no’sat had done earlier had cut the lines. From there they signaled for an aerial pickup and got back into the business of continuing to evacuate the remaining civilians, hoping that no more of them would be snatched up or killed before getting them off the Ribbon and down beneath the protection of Titan’s planetary shields.

Kaalo walked by the Zen’zat guards surrounding the single prisoner camp they now possessed in another landing zone camp, but this one was well underground with all approaches physically blocked off so no potential rescue teams could easily get to them. There were several hundred prisoners here that had been deemed of some value, but it was the few Archons that had been captured that he was interested in.

A few entrances had been reconstructed to allow the Kar’ka down this far with more ease, but the Brat’mar could not reach the prisoners. Hopefully this would help to further camouflage their location, but the Tiparen didn’t care about that. He wanted another shot at their Rio, though the Brat’mar had ordered him not to seek out combat until he was fully healed.

At the moment though he needed information, so he located one of the holding cells with an Archon currently under interrogation by a Kar’ka and walked in on them, seeing the Archon outside of armor and laying stiff on a table with a three fingered Kar’ka hand laying over his head making the physical contact necessary to bypass the Ikrid block. Another Zen’zat stood by for assistance, and both V’kit’no’sat looked over at Kaalo questioningly.

“Leave,” he commanded, retracting his armor into his forearm gauntlets as he looked down on the Archon.

“What is it that you want?” the Kar’ka asked.

“I have questions that need answering, and I will ask them alone.”

“I have not finished with this one.”

“You are finished…now,” Kaalo said, staring up at the Kar’ka and making it clear with his gaze that he was not in a mood to be argued with.

The Kar’ka sniffed rudely but made no other objection, knowing the status of this particular Zen’zat along with the fact that he could remove the Kar’ka by force if he wished, and some of the elite Zen’zat tended to throw their weight around more than they ought to.

The Kar’ka released the Archon and walked out, with the other Zen’zat going with him as the prisoner, now with his body back under his own control, sat up and slid off the table with a mix of fear and rage in his eyes.

Kaalo shut the large door with a telekinetic tug, then looked down on the smaller Archon.

“You may not know the identity of your sponsor, but I require different information.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” the Archon said, a little wobbly from the drugs he’d been given to loosen his mental resistance. “You’re going to have to dig it out like the rest.”

Kaalo pointed a finger at the Archon and lifted him up off the ground with his Lachka, holding him head level so he could look him eye to eye.

“I can kill you in an instant, and I don’t even need my weaponry to do it.”

“Get on with it then,” the ranger urged.

“At least you have the spirit of a Zen’zat, but not our size. Why? You have others of Zen’zat size, but not your elite. This makes no sense.”

“Maybe you should try thinking rather than blind obedience,” the Archon said as his feet hung dangling in the air, though his eyes caught sight of the healing wound on Kaalo’s arm, for he wore a sleeveless shirt with his long pants, both of which were skin tight and dark green. “Maybe learn to duck too. You got shot up, didn’t you?”

“My injuries are healing. I would have defeated your Rio and the three Archons with him had it not been for your treachery. How have you bypassed the Ikrid restriction?”

“He got you in a headlock, didn’t he?”

“No. I do not mean by physical contact. How have you bypassed it remotely? I was told this was impossible.”

“We have a penchant for doing the impossible…but I actually don’t know what you’re talking about. Rio is a trailblazer, so he knows a great deal more than I do.”

“That is obvious. If you possessed Rentar like the others you would have freed yourself from my grip already. If you do not follow protocol, why don’t you possess the psionics that the others do?”

“I haven’t earned them yet.”

“None of you have earned them,” Kaalo growled. “However you managed it, your abilities are not naturally gained. Why not give all of your kind the same?”

“Only those who are worthy get them, and I’m too young to have proven myself for all of them.”

“What did Rio have to do to get Ubven?”

“Ask him.”

“I am asking you, warrior to warrior, answer my questions directly or I will treat you like the rest of the scum of your bastardized race.”

“If you’re going to kill me, then all I can do is resist. Would you give away information if you…” the ranger said, cut off as he floated within reach of Kaalo and the Zen’zat punched him so hard in the chest that ribs snapped…then he was inside his head, digging around but still asking questions, amplifying his physical voice until it boomed so loud that the ranger couldn’t help but shudder with each word.

“How do you bypass the Ikrid restriction? What psionic have you altered to accomplish this?” Kaalo asked, but as the ranger said he did not know the answer. As much as he knew, Ikrid could only be bypassed by skin to skin contact, which was one reason why they wore full armor in combat.

“What psionics do you possess?” he asked next, with the information rising to the surface of his mind as he posed the question, making it easier to recover. This Archon had the basic 7 abilities that all Zen’zat did, but none of the second or third tier like the others had. It was a pity that none stronger had been captured, though he would have had several if not for those overlapping Ubven fields. It and their other rare psionics gave them the psionic power of legendary Zen’zat, which was an even greater sacrilege given how low their physical skills were.

“What do you know of their skills? Their psionics? Their tactics?” he asked, getting a lot of information hits that he had to further dig out. It took him several minutes until he crossed something unusual. Something that no Zen’zat possessed and betrayed all reason.

Kaalo checked again, digging out any and all information this low level Archon had, but the word was clear and there were a few instances of him having heard stories from others, though he’d never observed it occur himself. The higher level Archons had something they called ‘battlemeld’ that was supposed to combined the psionic power of more than one individual to make them stronger as a pair or group than the sum of their individual powers.

Was that what Rio had meant when he promised to kill Kaalo with friends? Did they gain strength in numbers? And did that somehow allow them to bypass his Ikrid blocks and mess with his mind? It was the Ubven that had caused him the most trouble, but it was the mind tricks that truly worried him, for Zen’zat had always been immune to them. Fornax operated differently and they had become acquainted with both using it and weathering it, but if these Archons had found a way to cheat the Ikrid block then their treachery was growing to a truly dangerous level.

“Battlemeld. Who has it? What creates it? Is there a weakness to it?”

The Archon wouldn’t answer, and unfortunately his mind did not contain much in the way of answers beyond a single memory of some type of tournament he’d observed…no, that he had reviewed images of later…in which many high level Archons participated. During group combat this Archon had seen two others swing each other around various objects, both pulling and pushing the other with their Lachka to great effect…but they always had an extended arm or arms to do it, and both of them, which made no sense to Kaalo. Only one used Lachka, and while physical directions helped one to focus their concentration they were not necessary.

This Archon had also saw something odd with the way they operated, speculating that it might be some form of battlemeld psionic while realizing that such things would not be revealed to him until he made their rank of Padawan. That was when they were instructed by another more skilled Archon in the attainment of the additional psionics. This was where their accursed ‘sharing’ occurred and the natural progression of development was cheated. It was also inferred that this was where the battlemeld was learned if not previously gained.

Somehow they even had cheaters within their own ranks, sharing powers before their approved time. How could a group of Zen’zat, no matter how bastardized by their illicit reproduction, function in such discord?

Kaalo was beginning to question how a sponsor could be so silent and still manage to keep this rabble functional…and yet he had witnessed himself how effective they were in combat, undeserving of their psionics for certain, but their effectiveness was more than just fortune.

Had this Star Force actually created new psionics? Or was there more to them that even he did not know? If the latter was the case he was going to find out now. If the former…

Kaalo released his physical contact with the Archon, pushing him away from him in his Lachka grip slightly.

“Your kind cannot be allowed to exist. You are an abomination that will be purged, no matter how many of us it takes,” the Zen’zat said, grabbing the Archon’s arm and flipping him over his head so hard that his shoulder dislocated as he slammed him down onto the table, breaking his nose…but Kaalo didn’t stop there, pulling on his arm again as he smashed the Archon’s torso to the table with a Lachka field so that the limb ripped clear off the body in one sickening snap/crunch.

The Archon screamed, then rolled off the table onto the ground making more sounds of agony as Kaalo left the room, pulling open the giant door with his Lachka and walking by the Zen’zat outside. He tossed the Archon’s bloody, severed arm at her and the Kilnor caught it on the wrist so the blood wouldn’t drip on her.

“I am finished here. Reattach it if you wish.”

9

June 3, 3602

Solar System

Venus

The Tar’vem’jic from the Mach’nel continued to fire from range, hitting another Sentinel in Venus orbit as the V’kit’no’sat fleet made a run in toward the planet similar to what they had been doing in previous days. Already one shipyard had been destroyed and it looked like they were going after another now, with Roger having deployed a lot of the remaining Shiva ships here to help defend the planet, but there was no outdistancing the Mach’nel. That forced him to engage it at closer range, and every time he did so he lost ships.

The V’kit’no’sat fleet had gotten smart, in that they didn’t allow any long battles to ensue. The size of their ships meant that the Star Force fleet had to hammer them for a while in order to do sufficient damage to kill them, thus the V’kit’no’sat fleet, in a very atypical strategy, was making fast hits to do damage to the Star Force orbital defenses and ships before retreating to recharge shields and repair the limited damage to their hull plates…so it had become a frustrating game of attrition with Roger trying to slow the damage they were inflicting on Venus orbit while picking off a ship or two when he could.

And the Mach’nel wasn’t just shooting at the shipyards and Sentinels, it was also targeting and one-hitting the Shivas, forcing Roger to run them up in the face of the other V’kit’no’sat ships in order to use the enemy vessels to block incoming hits, otherwise he was just wasting them. If the Mach’nel wanted to shoot at destroyers and frigates he’d let it do so all day, for most of its primary weapon’s destructive power was wasted to take them out and he had hundreds of thousands of them to pull on, but bring a big ship or station within range of the Mach’nel and it was going to be quickly destroyed, just like all the Sentinels in stellar orbit had been.

The trailblazer had hoped they’d go after the Slip’n’slide, but they’d wisely ignored it, for it wasn’t a threat to them now, and destroying it would have wasted valuable time that they could otherwise use to hit more important Star Force targets all the while more drone fleets were returning to Sol and increasing their numbers.

Roger thought they might be able to win a straight up fight right now, but he didn’t want to waste the number of ships that would involve nor tip their hand to how many more summons they had…but Roger couldn’t let this damage keep going forever, so it was time to up the intensity and try to counter the hit and run tactics with a quicker takeout punch.

Directing the combat from a distant command ship, Roger sent his fleets in towards the Mach’nel and its thousands of escorts as it sat out of range of Venus’s orbital defenses and continued sniping Sentinels around another valuable shipyard. Once they were in range of the V’kit’no’sat fleet and a good-sized brawl broke out the Mach’nel stopped firing on the Sentinels and redirected its primary weapon at a Shiva, punching through its enhanced shields on the first shot and gutting the ship with a hole blown straight through and out the other side, followed by explosive plumes of debris out both openings as the ship’s center tore apart and shredded like a piñata.

But that Shiva had deliberately drifted high to attract attention, for with the Shiva ships hidden amongst the beehive of regular drones were another summon that Roger had quietly pulled down several days ago. These ships were Ultima and well hidden behind the wall of other drones as they all headed into the defensive alignment the V’kit’no’sat had used in previous engagements, setting them with decent spacings so they could focus fire from multiple directions while also blocking for one another.

Roger hit the outer ships hard, but before they could get to their predetermined minimum shield strength and begin to run, peeling away from the formation while allowing the Mach’nel to continue sniping targets, he ran the Ultima ships up close and activated their element. Where the Shiva ships had special shields to make them more durable, the Ultima ships had basic technology across the board, from weapons to defenses, with one key addition.

Many Star Force drones suddenly lost propulsion, drifting on previous headings as conical-shaped IDF interdiction fields stretched out and grabbed the leading V’kit’no’sat ships, taking away their ability to maneuver along with all the drones in between. Almost as soon as they did a Tar’vem’jic blast fired at one of the Ultima, hitting many other drones in between and failing to get more than a bit of energy through…which was absorbed by its shields.

Roger began throwing more ships into gap, some of which had to decelerate hard to cut their momentum before they hit the field, but others were able to block while maintaining navigational control because the interdiction field wasn’t spherical, but rather focused along certain channels and strong enough to hold all the mass in it that it wished.

With multiple ships captured per field and dozens of Ultima casting their fields into the V’kit’no’sat lines, Roger had ships pinned in place that he could now kill, but he knew the V’kit’no’sat wouldn’t stand for that. They were going to pour the rest of their ships into the engagement and fight it out rather than abandon their ships and let Star Force get some ‘easy’ kills. Anticipating that, Roger also had other ships in this formation that had not engaged the V’kit’no’sat before…in the way of fully topped off Fireflies.

With the already weakened V’kit’no’sat ships stuck on the edge of their formation, Roger ran the fat firefly interceptors up through his ships lightning fast as the drone swarm parted for them under his direct control, allowing them to get into firing position before the other V’kit’no’sat ships could flank the IDF fields while the Mach’nel was busy shooting Shiva and trying to punch through to the Ultima with primary weapon and others.

The Fireflies, running with energy shields that hid the glow inside them, moved up to almost pointblank range with the pinned V’kit’no’sat ships, drifting forward as they lost engine power as well, but with their ‘firehose’ mounts still pointed toward their targets as other drones flanked them to provide extra blocking ability, both with their mass and shields, as well as contributing as much firepower to the targets ahead as they could, for the IDF only interfered with gravity drive operation. Not weaponry.

The first Firefly got within four kilometers of an 18 mile-long Voro’nam Dak’bri when it extended a shield column up to the enemy ship just after the V’kit’no’sat shields fell. Roger was hoping for that, because the Fireflies were not as effective against shields as they were matter, and had tweaked their approach timing to get them their best shot…which this Firefly took now.

It opened up its aperture and poured fiery hot plasma sucked up from the star through the shield ‘straw’ to help contain it further until it got to its target. What normally would have been a laughable plasma attack against a V’kit’no’sat ship took on a whole new dynamic in the amount of plasma being channeled. This wasn’t a plasma weapon being fired, this was the entire content of the Firefly being funneled out through a very wide tube in a one shot attack.

And that attack burnt into the V’kit’no’sat hull on a specific spot, eating into the armor plates and puncturing through before the full load was delivered. Return shots were fired immediately, but the Firefly was well enough shielded to survive them long enough to unload, blasting a crater in the hull and vaporizing so much internal structure that there was a backwash of molten debris thrown out into space as the Dak’bri pounded the drifting Firefly into scrap, not realizing that it had nothing left to attack with.

But it wasn’t the only one hitting the Dak’bri, for three others did as well, opening up points in the thick hull armor that the surrounding drones then tore into as adjacent weapon systems went down, no longer with power or otherwise gutted by the plasma flow inside the ship that ate into it like venom.

Roger had timed the attack so well that all 126 Fireflies he’d brought into this fight delivered their attacks within 2 minutes of one another, and combined with the Ultima pinning the targets in place and the mass of drones around them firing constantly, Roger got more than a handful of ship kills in this engagement before he finally pulled back when the V’kit’no’sat wouldn’t. He gave them a little breathing room, fighting a withdrawal and protecting both his Shiva and Ultima as he reset his formation into a better defensive alignment.

The V’kit’no’sat didn’t press in, suddenly turning around and fleeing now that their damaged ships were no longer pinned. Those that could move did so, and those that didn’t got towed away while the remains of others were targeted by friendly fire and destroyed as the V’kit’no’sat ships made hasty microjumps as the Mach’nel continued to snipe drones the entire time.

Roger, knowing it was going to leave soon, sent his ships in towards it so it couldn’t sit around an extra minute or two and get free kills in on his ships or the Sentinels…and given the numbers he had now and the threat of the Ultima pinning it in place, it did in fact run, pulling back through its own microjump and abandoning the attack on Venus until the V’kit’no’sat fleet could lick its wounds and adjust to the new ships and tactics Roger had just effectively thrown at them.

As it left, Roger pulled up a bit of media from the Halo library and sent a cinematic clip to both the V’kit’no’sat fleet and made sure all his remote pilots could see Sergeant Johnson as well.

“The message just repeats…regret, regret, regret.”

“Catchy. Any idea what it means?”

“Dear, Humanity. We regret being alien bastards. We regret coming to Earth. And we most definitely regret the corps just blew up our raggedy ass fleet. Hoorah!”

Within two seconds he had thousands of replies through the battlemap, either text or audio, echoing the ‘hoorah’ at the end, and with his Sav-enhanced mind he could hear/read all of them at once.

For the moment the attack on Venus’s orbital infrastructure had been paused and they’d just destroyed another 47 ships and damaged upwards of 200…and given just how big those ships were, that was a huge victory despite the 3,000+ drones lost.

“They’re starting to pull out.”

Rio frowned and pulled up the battlemap focus on the nearest V’kit’no’sat camp on the Ribbon from where he sat on top of a tall building overlooking the continuous evacuation of the civilians, guarding against another attack or assassination attempt.

“Damn. They’re going to bombard the station when they’re clear. We have to get them out faster.”

“We can shove more ships through other portals if they’re not contending,” Sara said over the comm.

“Keep an eye on it, but I don’t think they’re going to be that gracious. They may still have Zen’zat on the prowl up until the end too.”

“It won’t take much to breach the atmosphere, but they’ll have to do it section by section. Do you wanna hit them to delay their pullout?”

Rio thought about that for a moment, then shook his head.

“No. We straight up race them. Pull everyone back and pack them in as tight as possible. Send the dropships out beyond the spaceports if you have to.”

“What about the prisoners?”

“If you have a good idea I’m all ears.”

“Destroy their ships,” Sara said grimly, but Rio understood what she meant. If their people couldn’t be rescued, and they knew that the V’kit’no’sat were going to kill them anyway, better they go out in battle rather than being tortured to death in the various grotesqueries that they’d long known about from the pyramid database before they started to see some of them here in real life.

“Yeah,” Rio said reluctantly, not giving up on the prisoners but also not seeing any way to get at them right now, though he’d always keep an eye open for an opportunity if it arose. “Let’s make sure no more get grabbed, but we have to scramble people to get out before the rain starts to fall.”

“If they want to shoot the Ribbon, it’ll give us free shots at them.”

“They might do it anyway. Call in some of the larger transports and we’ll see if we can pull a Covenant on them.”

“Risky, but it’ll save us some time. I’ll take care of it, just don’t go on any dates with our favorite Zen’zat without me.”

“No promises,” Rio said, knowing full well that he might show up again out of nowhere for round 3 while they rushed to get the remainder of the civilians out.

Two days later…

“Let’s go, let’s go!” a Commando yelled as he waved people forward in a thick and fast moving line across the spaceport tarmac.

Haley and Brittney ran together, arms locked so they wouldn’t get separated amongst the others in dirty clothes that hadn’t been changed in over a week. They’d managed to hide out in their quarters’ building for a while, but eventually people started dying nearby and they ran before they found out what was going on, moving from city to city on the Ribbon and grabbing whatever food they could on the way from abandoned cafeterias as they headed as far as they could get from the Dinosaurs.

They eventually got to a working rail line and got in a car that took them even further away to a city with some Star Force troops in it, but that city got attacked two days later and they had to run again, somehow managing to stay alive until they ended up in a makeshift refugee center guarded by infantry and mechs. They’d been there until three days ago when all of them had been moved out on foot through the streets with occasional vehicular transports or dropships coming to pick some of them up, but the mass of them had to travel mile after mile on foot until they got to the spaceport.

There had been no fighting on the way, and Haley didn’t want to think about them getting shot so close to getting out, but it was in the back of her mind constantly as she and her best friend ran forward until the crowd got pinned down as they funneled between a pair of Commandos and into a line only four or five people wide. Hanging onto one another the pair of civilians were shooed forward, running again as they headed for a giant purple energy tube that reached up into the sky.

They didn’t know what was going on until they got close enough to see people being carried up it, then they were shoved ahead by more Commandos without a chance to think, crossing inside the field and suddenly being lifted off their feet.

“Shit,” Brittney swore as she was suddenly weightless, but both of them held onto one another as Haley’s foot hit the outer edge of the tube as they were going up. It bounced off it, luckily, rather than letting her fall out and to her death as they and the others above and below them were sucked up into the sky, past the clouds, and to the far up roof of the Ribbon where they passed through the energy field separating it from space and into vacuum.

Haley thought they were going to die with no air, but the purple energy tube kept them alive and breathing until they reached the underside of a ship. They were pulled inside of it then carried sideways until the field dumped them out beside the hole in the floor that they could see space through, with both cringing away from it as more Commandos pulled off those that didn’t move quick enough, for more and more people kept coming up behind them.

Haley and Brittney went with the flow that ended with them being herded into a giant empty cargo room packed with people elbow to elbow, so close that she immediately felt claustrophobic with the cacophony of voices from the crowd adding to the effect. She started to cry uncontrollably, feeling like she was going to be crushed as people filled in behind her and surrounded them as everyone was getting packed together as tight as boxes.

Brittney pulled Haley’s head into her shoulder so she couldn’t see anything, then the two just held onto each other and suffered through it, not knowing if they were safe or going to be shot by the enemy ships. No one was telling them anything, just pushing them around like cargo, but at the very least they were off the Ribbon and that was worth putting up with the sounds and smells and constant bumps of people around them.

“Close your eyes and think of someplace else,” Brittney said, doing the same thing as she hung onto her friend. “Someplace with tropical trees, beaches, and hot men.”

“I can’t…”

“Just try, babe. Just try.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Yes you can. It’s just crowded. And we don’t have to walk anymore. Just stand here and cry. Cry your eyes out if you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What the fuck is happening…” Haley whimpered, pressing her face against Brittney’s neck as her friend held her up while other people were freaking out around them. Some screaming, others trying to sit on the ground and tripping others when there wasn’t room…all the while more people were coming up the gravity lift and being crammed inside far faster than dropships could ever have managed.

“Hang on,” Brittney said, tears seeping out her eyes as well. “Just hang on.”

10

June 9, 3602

Solar System

Inner Zone

The Brat’mar gunship landed inside one of the hangar bays on the inner edge of the ‘tuning fork’ prongs that made up the front of the Era’tran Kafcha, blocking them from most external weaponsfire while daring anyone to come inside the overlapping fields of fire. At the moment that wasn’t an issue, for the entire V’kit’no’sat fleet had reassembled in a null orbit between the first and second planets in the system as they continued to digest the information taken from the prisoners and free data they were still getting from the public grid, the comparison of which was yielding some interesting results.

Normally discussions between ships would occur via hologram, but this was not a typical situation and Kaalo, a Zen’zat assigned and loyal to the Brat’mar, walked off the gunship onto the Era’tran deck that was even bigger than Brat’mar standards between two waiting rows of assembled Zen’zat who flanked him as he walked, ceremoniously escorting him through the ship amongst the bipedal giants that had built it, drawing many skeptical looks in the process.

Kaalo took his time, walking rather than running, and over the miles it took to get across the hangar he didn’t waver. The Era’tran weren’t his enemy even if they were a rival of the Brat’mar, for he was Zen’zat and loyal to the V’kit’no’sat as a whole, but old habits died hard and with the prospect of one or more races betraying the others tensions were even higher than normal…not to mention the fight between the Brat’mar and Kar’ka on the Ribbon that had been thankfully stopped, though not until two Kar’ka were unrecoverably dead.

So the Era’tran Zen’zat escorted him with respect and purpose to insure there was no misunderstandings as they finally arrived at a Zen’zat support system of tiny tunnels and lifts that Kaalo took to speed his progress across the 47 mile long ship. The base frame of a Kafcha was designated as 36 miles wide/long, but the Era’tran ship design was elongated, much like the I’rar’et’s T-shaped vessels, and the lesser bulk was therefore compensated for by increased length to keep vessel combat capabilities essentially neutral despite the varying designs.

That meant there was a lot of walking to do onboard an Era’tran ship if one wanted to get from bow to stern, and for security reasons the command deck was in the stern and well away from the hangar bays to protect against the possibility of boarders, though such things had not been a concern of the Era’tran for a long time. Lessons of long ago were still heeded to this day as protocol, even if of no apparent use, for the V’kit’no’sat had a long history of bloody battles and when a deficiency was discovered it was adjusted for...which was what brought Kaalo to the fleet commander in person, who chose to receive him in a private chamber rather than on the command deck where their conversation would be in front of others.

“What have you discovered, Zen’zat?” Mak’to’ran asked, staring down at the tiny biped who stood before his unarmored bulk, though out of respect Kaalo had his armor retracted into compact mode…though even if he deploy it, it wouldn’t matter. The Era’tran could still kill him before he could do enough damage for it to matter. “And why come to me directly?”

Kaalo took a knee, an unnecessary height reduction given his miniature status, but for Zen’zat it was a sign of confusion and therefore submission to those who could give them direction.

“I have encountered something truly disturbing. Something that I was long told was impossible. Given that the Era’tran know Zen’zat better than any other I have come to you with this knowledge. I have not discussed it with any other due to the implications, and as fleet commander you are the one that must accommodate for it now.”

“What new treachery have you discovered?”

“I have fought their most skilled Archon and defeated him. He fled only for us to meet again a second time in an assault to regain possession of prisoners. He had with him two, then three others. I could have defeated them, for their strength and speed are vastly inferior to mine, but all four possessed Ubven and subdued me long enough to inflict serious injury. I am recovering now and can fight if needed, but never before in Zen’zat history, as far as I am aware, have multiple Ubvens been used in combat. It is something we are not prepared for and gives these abominations a significant advantage.”

“Four of them?” Mak’to’ran considered. “And if there are four, how many more possess these skills?”

“It is of great concern, as is their varying fighting styles. They do not fight like Zen’zat, though they have clearly studied our ways and incorporated aspects into their codex. They have built weapons and constructed team tactics that are unfamiliar to me.”

“I have stopped thinking of them as Zen’zat entirely,” Mak’to’ran admitted. “To do so now would be a grave error, as well as an insult to your race. These mutations are something else entirely, and expecting them to behave as Zen’zat is a mistake that I will not make. Has there been any other noted use of Ubven or other tier 3s?”

“Jumat is prevalent in combat, and they use it to disengage from me repetitively, but the weapons they carry are inferior. In the second engagement they came with additional ones, but still they are not well equipped to deal damage.”

“Yet the reports of Zen’zat losses are high.”

“We have been deployed behind enemy lines. With such risk comes losses.”

“The Brat’mar should not waste you merely to kill a handful of useless Humans,” he said, using a term that was still unnatural to him. “Especially if they cannot fight. Zen’zat are valuable resources and should not be squandered.”

“We were also taking captives in the process, but I am not here to debate with you how the Brat’mar operate. There is a more important matter.”

“The conflict between the Brat’mar and Kar’ka. The Ikrid tricks of these Archons are formidable, it seems. We have always assumed that our minds are too advanced for your kind to enter and control, and that if one does manage to it is the weakness of the individual that is at fault. Did the Brat’mar and Kar’ka underestimate the enemy?”

“I fear it is something far worse.”

“Explain,” Mak’to’ran demanded when Kaalo didn’t continue.

“I cannot speak for what happened to them. I was near but not present, engaged in my own battle, during which I encountered…an impossibility.”

“You mentioned so before. What is it?”

“It was not Fornax,” Kaalo began, ruling it out before the Era’tran could ask. “I am certain of that.”

“They influenced your mind as well?”

Kaalo looked up from his kneeling position at the huge head over and just in front of him. “It was momentary, but yes, they did. I was told this was impossible for Zen’zat because of our Ikrid restriction. I have reviewed my memories many times looking for fault of my own, but I can find none. I fear that somehow their treachery is responsible for this.”

“Your hand,” Mak’to’ran said, taking a step forward and almost stepping on the Zen’zat as he came within inches of his kneeling form, then Kaalo reached out and made skin to skin contact with the Era’tran so it could bypass his own block and enter his mind.

The search did not take long, but the review of his memories, incomplete as such things always were, went on for a very long time. With what seemed great reluctance, Mak’to’ran broke the contact and Kaalo retracted his hand as the Era’tran stepped back.

“Your failure was not your fault,” he pronounced, relieving a bit of shame from the Zen’zat, but having been so damaged without making even a single kill still burned within him. “Nor is your analysis incorrect. Somehow these Archons have bypassed the Ikrid restrictions…and yet this Rio did not use the technique against you individually. It only manifests when there are multiple Archons…and did you notice that one Jumat blast was far greater than the others?”

“Two attacked me simultaneously for greater effect.”

“No,” Mak’to’ran said firmly. “It was not cumulative. The impact was far greater than that would have entailed. It appears they increased their power above and beyond what either could individually generate. Tell me, have you ever heard rumors of such things before?”

“Never.”

“I have. From a very long time ago. What I am about to tell you is for your knowledge only. You will not share it with the Brat’mar nor other Zen’zat.”

“As you wish.”

“There are stories of Zen’zat with…unusual powers in V’kit’no’sat history. Those stories have been eliminated from all records, but some have still passed through the Era’tran as legends. We have a keen interest in your race and are continually watching your progress to see how many psionics you can unlock. What you have accomplished thus far has eliminated most criticism for your inclusion into the V’kit’no’sat, but we believe you still have greater potential within you. It is a pity that the other races do not train you properly.”

“The Brat’mar have done well enough.”

“There is a reason why the Era’tran hold the most powerful Zen’zat save for a few outliers. We have you train better and longer. Others are more lax. You know this, for you have succeeded where they have not, Tiparen.”

“Others require more motivation than I do.”

“And that is an oversight of your masters as well as your fellow Zen’zat. What the Brat’mar do not instruct you can still do, and have in your case, but the others do not. They are satisfied with their current strength, wishing it to be greater but not submitting themselves to the optional training to make it so. Push a Zen’zat too hard and they will break, but push them not enough and, like all other races, you become complacent. We do not tolerate this in our Zen’zat, but only those who seek out the training will truly ascend by it, as you have done and are doing.”

“Your words honor me, but my strength was not enough against the treachery of these Archons.”

“Nor will it be, I fear. At first I had believed this rogue ‘Zen’zat’ civilization to be a work of folly, but more and more I see a devious and ingenious plan becoming exposed. The Hadarak are truly frightening if they can be controlled, but these Archons are quietly just as dangerous if they can overpower a Brat’mar’s mind…and I would suggest that they did not do so individually, but as a group. That is not unheard of, but like your Jumat encounter, I do not believe it is an accumulation of individual attacks, but rather something more powerful. You say you have not heard any rumor of such things in Zen’zat history?”

“None. Individuals have tried to hone simultaneous mental attacks, and while that might make it more difficult for a Brat’mar to resist, they cannot coordinate them to a necessary degree and often they counteract one another…and any preplanning is lost when they have to adapt to their target.”

“Well said. But what I have to tell you comes from the culling of the Les’i’kron. It was more than an internal division that the V’kit’no’sat fought. It was their entire race…and it was not as limited a fight as the records depict. We have access to more complete data, but even those of lesser station within the Era’tran do not know the full extent of their eradication. The Les’i’kron are those loyal to the V’kit’no’sat, but they were originally of another name. It was changed when they were defeated and their race remade, but the originals were a founding member of the V’kit’no’sat along with the J’gar and Oso’lon.”

Kaalo looked startled. He knew the Les’i’kron were major race, but he had no idea they had actually been a founding member along with those two longnecks.

“One of air, one of water, and one of land,” Mak’to’ran went on to say. “They were more powerful than the Oso’lon and J’gar, both in numbers and knowledge, but over time the strength of the V’kit’no’sat grew greater and a division formed. The originals were not fully loyal to the V’kit’no’sat and eventually a confrontation occurred that resulted in their annihilation. Rather than lose their formidable power the Les’i’kron were created out of their remains, but they have never had the power the originals had…which included Zen’zat that fought against the V’kit’no’sat during the culling who displayed what is rumored to have been joint abilities.”

“New psionics or undiscovered ones?”

“I know the full extent of the psionics within your genome. Those that Zen’zat have not uncovered yet do not fit this description, nor has any record been made of their existence, but the rumors have persisted. The originals had knowledge beyond us and may have upgraded their own Zen’zat in violation, either in response to the culling or preceding it.”

Kaalo blinked as he continued to kneel, thoroughly confused. “Were not all of their Zen’zat destroyed in the culling?”

“They were, as was every facet of their race that we did not wish to remake. They are gone and have been so despite fantasies to the contrary, all of which have proved baseless. I do not think that somehow survivors remained to spawn the heresy here, but if it has been done before then others may have remembered and sought out similar development on their own.”

“How effective were these altered Zen’zat in battle?”

“It was before my time, but they were rumored to be incredibly powerful…as well as possessing armor that allowed them to fly.”

That brought Kaalo’s head up another inch. “Their Rio.”

Mak’to’ran nodded in one long, slow motion. “The Archons appear to use a tiered system much like our own, with the upper echelons mimicking these legends. It is possible that the stories inspired this research, though who is conducting it I cannot determine. Many races I can rule out individually, but if there is a pact between several then everyone is suspect, even the Era’tran, though I highly doubt we are involved. But you can be assured that whoever is doing this, from trying to recreate Zen’zat of legend to controlling Hadarak, has the end goal of destroying the V’kit’no’sat. There can be no other goal of this treason, and no possibility of us ever condoning it. We stand on the brink of a civil war, not a mere rebellion like the Rit’ko’sor, and that hurt us badly enough. This could destroy us.”

“Did these legends speak of the Ikrid block being bypassed?”

“No. I have no knowledge of how it is even possible, but the binary nature of the attacks against you suggest that it is part of what occurred in the past or perhaps a new addition altogether. I also do not know how a Hadarak can be controlled, yet obviously it can be done.”

“What are we to do if they can enter our minds?”

“Do as we have always done. As disturbing as this is, it is also an opportunity to prove your worth. The Ikrid restrictions were created to keep you immune from manipulation, but also because it was thought you needed the assistance to counter your inferiority. Even the Ari’tat do not have a block, and in my opinion you are superior to them. Learn to function without it by strengthening your mind. If you cannot, then you truly are lesser than an Ari’tat.”

“Understood. We either stand on our own or we do not deserve to stand at all. However, this will greatly reduce our effectiveness until we can learn to compensate.”

“It will do far more than that, but this is the hand you have been dealt. Adapt to it.”

“As you will. Is there any other counsel you can offer?”

“When you find this Rio again, do not fight him alone unless he is alone. Take other Zen’zat with you.”

“We have withdrawn from their station. I will not have another opportunity.”

“Orders have not gone out yet, but a decision has been made. Based on the interrogation of the lower level Archons you captured, we have discovered that not all the V’kit’no’sat structures in this system were destroyed by the Rit’ko’sor. The planetary defense station still exists.”

“Why was it not detected on arrival?”

“They have hidden it, and not well, for it has not been moved. It is at the same location as before, but they have constructed a city over top of it. I do not believe they did it to hide it from us, but rather from their own people for a reason I cannot fathom. Their masses of Humans do not know of the V’kit’no’sat, nor do they know of the defense station. It has been kept from them and the concealment is for this reason, I believe.”

“Why would they hinder their greatest defensible position in such a manner? If it is intact, it possesses the most powerful weapons they have access to.”

“I have consulted with the J’gar on this, and they assure me that primary and secondary weapons were locked out when this world fell, which was why the Rit’ko’sor did not try to claim it and merely submerged it. Such codes that prevented them from accessing it would also prevent anyone other than the J’gar or Oso’lon from doing so. Even the Era’tran do not possess the codes to override them.”

“If they are behind this treachery, then the defense station could fire through the city to strike at us.”

“If either of those two races have betrayed us, then the V’kit’no’sat are already doomed.”

“Are you certain it cannot fire?”

“Both of them have assured me that the lockouts cannot be bypassed, no matter how much effort is given to the task. Whoever is sponsoring this Star Force cannot unlock it, and the fact that they have chosen to build over it is both a sign of this and of their folly, for while they may never have intended to use it as a defensible outpost, they have compromised its perimeter defense with the structures covering it.”

Kaalo’s face cracked a touch of a smile. “They are vulnerable to a ground assault.”

“This is a tactical mistake and we are going to exploit it. Once there is a breach in their planetary shields a team of Zen’zat will be dispatched to infiltrate their structures and gain access to the defense station. Once inside you will seize it and destroy the city surrounding it when the J’gar supply you with the necessary instructions to reactivate its weapons. We will reclaim our property and secure a foothold on the planet. If there are answers to be found there we will have them, but even if the databanks have been wiped clean we will not run from these vermin. We will hold at the defense station and I will send for reinforcements. When they arrive, we will begin exterminating the Archons, this Star Force, and eventually deal with the Hadarak. Whoever is responsible for this will show their involvement eventually if we are not able to discover their identity…else they will have to sit by and watch us annihilate everything they have painstakingly created here.”

“You believe they will launch a major strike?”

“I do, but in what form and where I cannot guess at. We will draw them out and crush them, no matter what the losses. The V’kit’no’sat cannot stand with this poison inside us. It must be purged. Only then can we rebuild on a solid foundation. But if we cannot decisively succeed here it will encourage dissent and perhaps further betrayal. We must reestablish our dominance, and for that I will need you and every other high level Zen’zat in the fleet to take the defense station. The rest of us are too large to move through their city, and the Ari’tat are too pathetic. We must rely on the Zen’zat for this, and I have little doubt that their Rio will respond to the incursion. You have another chance to fight him, but this time do so with support. V’kit’no’sat are not individuals, we are a united whole. Fight as such, and do not allow ego or your opponents to goad you into doing otherwise.”

Kaalo clapped his fist against his chest hard, having come here disillusioned seeking answers, but now his purpose and path forward were clear.

“It will be done.”

Duel of the Fates

Halo clip

Intransigent

1

June 11, 3602

Solar System

Earth

Barbriea Nooner set up the harvesting equipment over pod #1934 in the Antarctic bioharvest facility where she worked with a few button presses. Then after visually confirming with a glance that the apple trees were ready to be plucked again, she opened the top hatch on the acre-wide pod from her position outside the clear glass walls via a control gauntlet that the Star Force tech wore on her left arm.

The collector assembly lowered through the containment shield beneath, entering the thicker atmosphere inside that was mostly CO2 and would suffocate her or anyone else that went inside, but the trees absolutely loved it and the machines designed to harvest crops didn’t need to breathe. The platform that lowered into a gap between the trees stayed on the roof of the pod and extended a number of arms and tubes down as if it were a mechanical mirror image of those growing below, but it did nothing else as it waited for Barbriea to get to work.

Standing outside the pod on the narrow walkway that separated it from the one directly behind her, the tech hit a button on her gauntlet that caused it to create a holographic control board that didn’t move with her arm. It floated independently in front of her and allowed the tech to press the tactile floating buttons in conjunction with the mental control patch attached to her forehead.

One of the buttons brought her into a virtual view inside the pod that overlaid with her actual senses, making her both in the walkway and between the trees at the same time. When Barbriea had first been taught to use this equipment that duality had caused her a lot of trouble, but after 67 years working bioharvest facilities it had become second nature now and she linked with the collector arms as easily as if they were her own.

Using the sensors on the mechanical platform she was able to see the various apples, both those exposed and hidden beneath leaves. At a glance she could measure their width and ripeness, knowing which ones to pick and which ones to leave for more development. Those that were ready she locked as targets mentally, then pressed buttons for each that the collector automatically maneuvered an arm to, located the stem, and cut it when a collection basket was placed underneath.

Those baskets weren’t physical, but rather made of shields that caught the 10-15 pound apples softly as they fell, then maneuvered them low to the ground near the tree trunks and back towards the small center gap below the collector. There they were pulled into a physical terminal that shunted them up a tube that had an atmospheric shield of its own. Each of the huge apples passed through it into normal atmosphere as they were carried along via the lifting shields inside the tube that would take them to a prep area to either be cut up and processed or stored whole for later usage…but that was beyond Barbriea’s task, for she was assigned to only collect and spent four hours each day moving from pod to pod harvesting crops, whether they be apples, corn, potatoes, toretia, narcal, kepper, or the thousands of other varieties that Star Force grew that ended up becoming food cubes, noodles, or the Archon favorite donuts.

It was a repetitive job, but then again most tech assignments were unless you were in maintenance, construction, or research. She didn’t mind the solitude that the position brought, meandering about the huge indoor fields of crops and crossing paths occasionally with other bioharvest techs. This was an essential part of logistics within the empire, for without food it could not exist. So while it was quiet, repetitive work it was important and Barbriea was both pleased and honored to have the assignment.

In the past she’d been paid credits for similar jobs, but she’d risen to a tier 6 rank now and they were the first level that received no pay, nor did those above them. That meant she was full Star Force and didn’t have any civilian interests…such as starting her own business or indulging in credit purchases of luxuries. Tier 5 and below were paid, with tier 5 being paid fairly well. The transition between the two meant that those who agreed to level up to 6 were interested in doing the work for work’s sake rather than it being a means to gain credits.

Barbriea got everything she needed for free now, without limits, but that didn’t include the public markets. Everything that Star Force produced she could get, but privately made products required credits. She still got a small stipend from previous work completed, but there was no pay for days worked going forward. She wasn’t going to be buying any private spacecraft or building her own station in Earth orbit. After all, why would she want to when Star Force built far better ones and she could move about them freely?

It was true she didn’t own any of it, but tier 6s and above considered each other to be family, and now that she was an ‘insider’ there was no desire to try and build something of her own when the entire empire now belonged to her in part.

Other people couldn’t understand that and would never work unless compensated with credits…and that’s why those people would never rise far within the Star Force ranks. Greed was easy to weed out, and Star Force certainly wasn’t hurting for workers. It had taken Barbriea a long time to get this far by developing her skills, for her harvest rate had increased greatly since she’d begun, and in the bioharvest industry time was also a commodity.

Some had argued for using fully automated harvesting equipment, but doing so in some experimental pods had resulted in greater inefficiency. A machine could only do what it was programmed to, and deciding which apples to take and how to take them was more of an art than science. She didn’t want to break branches in the process, and since trees didn’t grow along predictable paths a machine didn’t always know how to move around them to get at the apples.

It was a minor thing, but Star Force liked to get the absolute most out of each pod and that required a mind guiding the collecting arms and choosing when to take an apple or when to let it continue to grow. This pod and the others that Barbriea worked were hers and hers alone, and the mild competition to see who could produce the most over the course of time was an added motivation to attend to detail each and every day.

When her four hour shift was over she’d rejoin the civilian population in the nearby cities, take care of her training, then have free time to deal with however she wished. Some people worked doubled or even triple shifts to acquire more credits, but Star Force discouraged such things and outright prevented it at her tier. Unless there was a shortage, they weren’t going to encourage people to skip workouts or sleep, with the four hour shift being about average throughout the various divisions within the empire.

But every moment of that four hours Barbriea was in motion, moving from one pod to another and harvesting crops or adjusting nutrient and atmospheric levels. It was quiet work, but mildly intense as neither she nor the other bioharvest techs wanted to waste time. Their job was too important, for it was them that fed Earth, and those of their tier and above were here because they wanted to be, so they took their job very seriously.

The quietness was also soothing, which Barbriea appreciated, so when an alarm sounded throughout the facility it spooked her so hard that her mental connection to the collector arms inside the pod caused several to jerk wildly, snapping branches and causing a few apples to come crashing down to the ground far below, with some breaking apart on impact.

Barbriea disconnected from the equipment, shutting down her control gauntlet and following the new holograms popping up in the walkways. The one to her left was specifically for her, and as she began running towards it the little dashed line in the air disappeared. She followed the evacuation path quickly, not knowing what was happening but the presence of an alien fleet in the system wasn’t a secret. She and just about everyone else had been following the news feeds intently, but when she’d come to work the professional in her and the others meant they didn’t sneak looks, rather being patient enough to wait until their shifts were over before catching up on the battles occurring on their doorstep.

But if there was an evacuation order for this bioharvest facility that either meant there was a major malfunction or, more than likely, the invaders were headed here…and that thought made her run through the various walkways as fast as prudence would allow, for the turns were very sharp and if she went any faster she’d start bouncing off the clear pod walls.

With her eating up her evacuation route line like old school Pacman she eventually merged with another line, seeing out of the corner of her eye at the turn another tech racing towards her 50 meters back. Barbriea didn’t wait for him, knowing to clear out as quickly as possible. If there was going to be fighting occurring here then they needed to clear the area so the military wouldn’t be hampered by them…and if the facility was going to get blown up there was no point in waiting around even a second longer than necessary.

She knew the planet had huge shields covering every square meter of it that these V’kit’no’sat would have to break through, so why they were being evacuated now she didn’t know. Barbriea trusted her fellow Star Forcers enough to just go with the evacuation route and worry about figuring things out later, so when she got to the end of the holographic line and joined the crowd of others briefly waiting to get onboard subsurface cars at a transit hub there was no talking or hysterics. No pushing or shoving. When a new car became available they crammed as many people into it then the few security force officers present sent it off and began loading the next one.

Barbriea waited her turn then got pancaked inside one a couple minutes later, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other bioharvest techs as the tube visible outside the car started flashing by as they traveled through the undercity and hopefully away from whatever the danger was.

“Does anyone know what’s going on?” a guy somewhere behind her asked.

“No,” she said after a moment of awkward silence. “I just got the evac warning and ran.”

“They have to be attacking Earth. Attacking here,” someone else suggested.

“Why here?” the man next to her asked.

No one had an answer for that, and without any knowledge to share between them there wasn’t much point in talking. By the time they reached the end of their transit they were several hundreds of miles away, having been taken north across Antarctica and deposited in a random city there…but when they got out of the car they didn’t see or hear any alarms. Everyone in the giant plaza they eventually came out into were behaving normally aside from seeing the curious number of Star Force techs suddenly pouring out of the transit system.

Barbriea meandered out with the others, having received no further instructions and not being sure what she should do with herself, but eventually she and a lot of the techs were drawn to a live news feed that was being put up on the main holo in the next promenade outside the plaza. When she got there she saw images of the enemy fleet orbiting Earth. Their ships were so huge it was crazy, and they were all clustered together in a group while the much more numerous Star Force fleet was nearby but not yet fighting.

Then she saw the zoomed images of a giant orange beam traveling all the way from the high up enemy fleet hitting the planetary shield over top of them…which had to be why they’d been evacuated. If it managed to punch through and hit the bioharvest facility they’d all be vaporized.

But as she continued to look and listen to the commentary being provided it didn’t make sense. There was only one enemy ship attacking, and doing so from a range outside the planetary defenses…meaning Earth couldn’t shoot back. But if only one ship was attacking…

Then the enemy suddenly started to move with the whole mass of ships heading in closer to the planet and Barbriea’s hand involuntarily came up and covered her mouth as her jaw dropped.

They were coming here. And they were going to attack Earth with every ship they had.

She saw the Star Force fleets react instantly, accelerating to intercept them and her not knowing if they’d get here in time or even how long it would take them to pound through the planetary shields. She’d been told the defenses were stupidly strong, but against that many huge ships who knew…

But then she noticed something odd, for the point on the shields where the orange beam had been hitting was marked on the map…yet it wasn’t located over the facility where she worked. Not even close. The beam was coming down on the very edge of the continent and her evacuation route had actually brought her a bit closer to it.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, trusting Star Force but not having any idea why they’d been evacuated from that bioharvest facility.

Mak’to’ran watched the readouts from the command deck on his Kafcha as the J’gar fired its Tar’vem’jic into the planetary shields. It did not penetrate on first hit, and as subsequent impacts were registered and data analysis was conducted he began to grow very displeased. As powerful as the Mach’nel was, it couldn’t easily get through the shields protecting the planet…which were multi-layered and modulating. Even when it did puncture the top layer several minutes in, the lower layers prevented it from hitting the shield generators beneath. Doing the math he could see that it would take days to break through at the minimum, then when his analysts got him their determination of the effectiveness of the attack it was clear that the Mach’nel’s Tar’vem’jic wasn’t powerful enough on its own to get through to the surface.

He was going to have to bring other weaponry into range in order to breach their planetary shields…and that meant exposing his fleet to their orbital defense guns.

The Era’tran knew that would result in the loss of many more ships, for there was no way the Star Force fleet was just going to sit by and watch while they broke through and took out ground based defenses. They were probably sitting by now and waiting because they knew the Tar’vem’jic wouldn’t be enough on its own to get through, but as soon as he sent ships down to cover and assist the Mach’nel as it brought its full arsenal to bear against the shield they’d swoop in and engage in the most defensible position they had within the system.

Mak’to’ran had already plucked the nearby Sentinels from orbit, so at least they wouldn’t be able to add defensive firepower, but this was going to be a bloody fight to punch through the shields and land his Zen’zat assault team…with the fleet commander knowing that the way to limit his losses was by making this as quick as possible. That meant taking the entire fleet in, assaulting the shields and creating a breach point in the minimum amount of time, and distracting the planetary defenses long enough to get a single ship to the surface.

He’d wanted to pluck those planetary defenses prior to that, but now there wasn’t going to be time. He’d label them as primary targets, but this slugging match had to be as short and to the point. If the Zen’zat could be delivered safely he was confident they would accomplish their mission and give the J’gar a remote link to the planetary defense stations systems, allowing them to bypass the locks and give the Zen’zat full control of the defenses…which they could then use to hold that position indefinitely so long as they won the battle inside.

To make sure they did he’d already assembled all the top Zen’zat in the fleet onto one Voro’nam Domjo that would hide behind the protection of other vessels as they escorted it down through the kill zone he was about to thrust the V’kit’no’sat fleet into…but there was no other way to do this. Send less vessels and he’d lose more. The safest means to take the planetary defense station was to hit the planet with everything they had and let their mass strength be their shield.

The weak link was that single Domjo. He had to make sure it wasn’t hit and got to the surface before their enemy could react to the light invasion. The lockout the J’gar had implemented on the now hidden planetary defense station did not include the defense shields, so if Star Force had managed to repair the damage the Rit’ko’sor had done to it they could throw up that additional shield and block the Domjo from landing…which was why they’d be going down outside the maximum perimeter of the shield and landing the Zen’zat in gunships that would travel underneath its altitude as far as they could get before being forced down.

Mak’to’ran thought there was a chance they could make it all the way to the defense station’s location before Star Force could throw up sufficient aerial interference, and if they wanted to send some of their tiny starships down to strike them they’d have to lower the shields to do so. If they did Mak’to’ran was going to send his own ships down and fight it out long enough to block the attempted maneuver, even if it meant losing every one of them to create the distraction.

If he succeeded there then the only hindrance to the Zen’zat would be anti-air surface defenses and their aerial division. The Zen’zat knew to head to ground rather than fight it out if they couldn’t progress as far as needed, taking to the Star Force cities and their numerous underground structures that the V’kit’no’sat had not been able to enter on their ‘Ribbon.’ Only Zen’zat had been small enough to fight there, and likewise only they would be small enough to fight on the planet below. Their battlesuits and aerial craft could not fit, and Mak’to’ran was confident that his elite Zen’zat could handle any number of infantry thrown at them.

They’d make it to the defense station sooner or later, meaning the difficult task lay in getting them safely to the surface. If they could do that then he could have the fleet withdrawal to a safe distance and wait for the defense station to come back online…but if Star Force was able to accidentally down that Domjo before it delivered the Zen’zat, this attack would be an utter failure.

The Era’tran huffed his approval. He was a fleet commander for a reason, and if he couldn’t protect a single ship with the thousands of others he still had, then they didn’t deserve to win this fight.

With a thought through his mental interface he gave the attack order and the entire V’kit’no’sat fleet moved as one down into low orbit over Terrax and began exchanging fire with the Star Force planetary defenses.

2

Kaalo waited inside the Voro’nam hangar bay in one of several Brat’mar gunships that contained their most elite Zen’zat, of which he was the strongest, but there were several Zen’zat from the other factions that were stronger than him and all of them were assembled here for the insertion to the planet below. The plan was for the Domjo to get them down to the surface below the majority of the anti-air defenses then release all the gunships from the hangar at minimum altitude…after which they would be on their own as the ship returned to orbit, assuming it made it that far. There was a good chance that it would be destroyed prior to that along with many more ships securing their entry.

This mission relied entirely on the Zen’zat after the insertion and Kaalo knew that if they could get down inside the Human cities and travel through rather than over them, then there would be nothing that could stop them short of orbital bombardment. The fleet was going to make sure that didn’t happen for as long as they could, but they couldn’t hold position forever under the assault they were going to have to endure. The Humans had a great deal of planetary defenses in addition to their assembled fleet that continued to get larger with every passing day.

He and the other Zen’zat had to get in and secure the planetary defense station, and in order to do that some of the weaker Zen’zat accompanying them were carrying breaching gear to override the locks on the various entrances. Finding one was going to be difficult if the entire structure was built over, but even if they had to blast their way to the exterior of the station they would and they’d brought sufficient munitions for that if needed, though nothing was going to cut into the thick Yeg’gor armor with the haste they required.

That meant they had to hack their way in, and fortunately they had the two primary races in the V’kit’no’sat with them to supply the necessary codes to override whatever Star Force was using. Kaalo and the others would get inside even if only a few Zen’zat made it that far, and he knew that if either he or one of those stronger made it, they’d be enough to kill every Archon inside assuming Rio and the other elites hadn’t predicted this attack. If they were waiting in ambush it would take Kaalo plus support, but the other Brat’mar Zen’zat standing beside him and in the other waiting gunships would be enough…though he didn’t expect all of them to make it to ground.

Whether he died in the short gunship flight or survived to make it inside the defense station it did not matter. Star Force wouldn’t stop all the Zen’zat, and those that did make it would take control of the battle station and use its weaponry to blast enough of the city overtop of them away to allow additional ships to land while securing the orbital tracks above them. If they could do that there was nothing Star Force could throw at them to dislodge their foothold…and then they could begin eating away at the vermin on this planet one city at a time as more reinforcements were summoned.

It all depended on the fleet getting them to the surface and then the Zen’zat taking the defense station, but for now he and the other Zen’zat waited in silence inside the gunships, not knowing what was occurring until they got the order to depart. Until then they loyally and patiently sat on the benches shoulder to shoulder and still as statues.

“There they go,” Roger said through his computerized mind meld with Sara, Ethan, and Rio. He’d been wondering how long it would take them to figure out that their shields weren’t going to fall to just the Mach’nel’s Tar’vem’jic. Powerful as it was, the recharge rate of the planetary generators were greater and the multi-layered shielding prevented spot punctures thanks to the scattering effect of the second layer.

“Ignore the Mach’nel?” Sara asked, seeing the tactical situation along with the others, though their holograms were but bobble-head sized on the periphery of her command nexus.

“Yes,” Roger said while sending out orders to the planetary gunners as well as his part of the combined fleet in orbit, though each chunk wasn’t in exactly the same location. “We have to destroy weapons, not ships, and we won’t get to them until the shields go down so ignore it completely. Make the rest of the battle look convincing but keep the Ultimas intact.”

“Copy that,” Ethan agreed as the V’kit’no’sat ships raced down towards Antarctica and the trailblazers knew they were going to arrive first, but the bulk of the Sol defense fleet was now in Earth orbit and would be there shortly…and if the Viks were busy shooting the planetary shield then they wouldn’t have weaponsfire to counter the incoming ships. If they shot the ships then the planetary shields would hold up longer. It was a paradox that the enemy had to deal with by hitting as fast and hard as possible, meaning this was going to escalate quickly.

“Rio, backdoor.”

“The surface isn’t evacuated yet.”

“I know,” Roger said as his command ship accelerated and the view of Earth began to increase in size as they approached. “We don’t have a choice. Slug it out until then, but don’t lose your Ultimas.”

“If we don’t use them, will they suspect a trap?”

“They’re not trying to run this time, so don’t even bother pinning their ships in place. Just use them for fire support, but make sure they’re close enough to the Mach’nel to grab it when needed.”

“I doubt they’ll make it that easy,” Sara complained as her icon on the battlemap began to get closer and closer to the other trailblazers’ and the single dot that was the full V’kit’no’sat fleet.

“They need the Mach’nel’s other weapons, so they won’t pull it out. Grab a few ships so they can’t retreat to recharge shields if they try, but I think most are going to hold their ground and pound the planetary shields until they’re through.”

“I agree,” Ethan added, pulling up a quick Mass Effect clip from the ship’s database of all things cool.

“Our influence stopped the Rachni, but before that we held the line. Our influence stopped the Krogan, but before that we held the line. Our influence will stop Saren. In the battle today, we will hold the line!”

“Yeah, I think that pretty much fits,” Sara echoed. “They ain’t moving for nothing.”

“Make sure they don’t and we can win this,” Roger insisted as the first weaponsfire started to register on the planetary shield in addition to the Tar’vem’jic that continued to fire on approach. Simultaneously hundreds of Ardent began streaking up from points around Antarctica as the V’kit’no’sat fleet slowed and maneuvered around into a line of attacking ships…primarily the larger ones with the Mach’nel at the center…and a line of defenders above them in a flattened half sphere to protect against the incoming Star Force ships.

Roger saw several metallic rail gun slugs popping up from the surface through brief gaps in the shield that went streaking into the assaulting fleet, some of which were targeted and deflected prior to impact, but those that hit put huge dents in the shield energy of the targets, including one Na’shor that had already been weakened by concentrated Ardent beams. It punched straight through the remaining shields and planted a huge crater in the hull, though the 26 mile long battleship hardly felt the impact as its weaponry continued to pour down into the atmosphere, setting it aglow even before hitting the first of the shield layers with a combination of beams and orbs, though none of the ships were getting close enough to engage their short ranged weapons, which would have meant they had to get inside the atmosphere where their maneuvering options would be significantly limited.

Suddenly the fleet disposition changed and some of the frontline ships started throwing up dampening shields that stopped the incoming rail gun slugs cold, but that meant power had to be diverted away from the regular shields, weakening their recharge rate and making the Ardent strikes even more effective as multiple breach points started to occur in the first planetary shield, allowing the Tar’vem’jic clear shots at the second layer…which broke on the first hit, though it scattered the beam so much it became a cone as it traveled down to the third.

The hammering continued both ways as the Star Force fleet decelerated hard and got itself into a bit of alignment before engaging. Going in recklessly was to the V’kit’no’sat’s advantage, so the four trailblazers forced themselves to be patient a bit longer and got their drones into their favorite engagement formations before taking it to the defensive sphere over top the bombarding ships. Rio took the high road avoiding the first conflicts, cutting off their exiting jumpline and making the highest V’kit’no’sat ships turn around to attack them…all the while coordinating with ground-based weaponry so they didn’t get involved in friendly fire when an Ardent or railgun slug missed, or hit and passed through an enemy ship.

Numerous Bra’hems also opened fire, having been the primary defense weapons for many decades and now taking a secondary role, but still effective in adding so much firepower to select V’kit’no’sat ships that they were destroyed within a minute of initial contact. They never wavered though, holding position and firing constantly up until their destruction as layer after layer of planetary shields were being stripped away until the first Tar’vem’jic blast shot through a gap in all of them and hit the shield generator beneath on the surface.

The auxiliary shield covering the structure itself couldn’t stand up to that amount of raw energy, with the orange beam penetrating it on contact and vaporizing the huge tower along the internal spine, blowing out the rest of it in a donut of shrapnel that hit and destroying surrounding buildings…not to mention the damage done to the undercity as the beam penetrated even further. Fortunately the shield generator was the same one the Tar’vem’jic had been firing upon from higher up in orbit and the people in the area of assault had been evacuated, but that didn’t hold true for the weapons batteries and additional shield generators ringing it that were subsequently targeted.

The planetary shields tried to regenerate, but their ability to do so was weakened with the loss of that single generator and the bombardment hadn’t diminished with the destruction of the first V’kit’no’sat ships, for whenever one was destroyed another from higher up would drop down and assume its position, giving them a nearly constant assault that was continuing to push through and keep the shield from regenerating what had been lost while other ships were targeting through the gaps and taking out key structures in a wave of destruction that began to snowball…with the coverage of the planetary shield pulling back as a result.

Kaalo got word the same as all the other Zen’zat inside that their Domjo was deploying, but none of them moved. There was no point in doing so until they were on the ground, so all of them continued to sit and wait but the pilots shunted tactical data to them so they could start familiarizing themselves with the battle conditions on the surface that they were about to fly through.

Kaalo was pleased to see so many defensive weapons being blasted into oblivion, but the exchange of fire between the fleet, the surface, and the defending fleet was far greater than he had anticipated. The V’kit’no’sat ships engaging in the bombardment were getting torn apart, but they had succeeded in punching a short-lived hole in the shields that they were holding open with additional bombardment while softening the approach area for the Zen’zat.

It was costly, but as expected they were getting the job done as the Domjo moved out of its parking orbit between the two layers of ships and headed down towards the planet at the back of a formation of some 83 vessels that drew immediate fire from the planetary defenses. Kaalo saw a Lir’nen Na’shor get obliterated within half a minute as they came into the atmosphere and had to slow down, with so many surface batteries still remaining that its bulk was torn apart with alarming speed. The burning chunks from it floated up, relatively speaking, through the descending fleet as the drag tore at them as the rest of the ships powered down through the atmosphere as fast as possible…but the debris would rain down on either the planetary shield or through the gap and hit the surface soon enough.

Even as they descended, the blocking ships targeted and took out many of the exposed defensive batteries, but there were so many adjacent to them and still protected underneath the planetary shields that the descent to the planet was a gauntlet that had to be endured rather than defeated, and as another Na’shor broke up ahead of them and the other ships had to fly evasively around its debris, Kaalo could sense the moment of their inevitable victory coming, for soon they’d be below the firing arcs of most of the planetary defense guns and they’d…

“Time?” Jasmine-1188 asked, her voice calm but strained as she stood within the V’kit’no’sat pyramid at one of their Zen’zat control stations atop the Oso’lon platform on the command deck while another Archon was manning a Star Force add-on a few feet away. The pyramid systems and the Star Force battlemap had never been integrated into one another for security reasons, so Jasmine wasn’t able to monitor the progress of the evacuation of the bioharvest factory above them, but she could see the carnage occurring in orbit further to the west over the edge of Antarctica as the V’kit’no’sat began to punch through the planetary shield and hit a surface generator with the Mach’nel’s primary weapon, taking it down in a single shot and making the eventual fall of the rest of the shield layers covering the continent just a matter of time.

The pyramid’s own shields couldn’t extend that far out, which was probably why the V’kit’no’sat were attacking that far away, but she couldn’t understand why they were being so stupid. Yes, Star Force had to evacuate the people above them first, but what made the V’kit’no’sat think they wouldn’t come under attack by its weaponry? It made no sense. They obviously knew it was still here, otherwise there would be no reason to invade Antarctica when they didn’t have enough ships and troops to take the planet. They had to be trying to retake the pyramid by landing ground troops outside the shield perimeter, but as soon as the evacuation was complete they were going to get hammered.

“40 seconds,” the nearby Archon confirmed, watching the tracks of the people moving out through the adjacent cityscape. They had a minimum calculated range to get clear from, otherwise Jasmine would not fire. Dying in battle was one thing, but Star Force wasn’t going to kill its own people no matter what the situation was and damn anyone who argued otherwise.

“Good,” she said, seeing a column of V’kit’no’sat ships heading to ground already. Gritting her teeth, she realized that they might make it before she could get the first shot off, but there was no way in hell they were going to park there and just unload with impunity. Maybe the V’kit’no’sat were willing to accept egregious losses to get some troops on the planet, but at this point she didn’t care. They’d just made a very bad mistake and she was going to make them pay for it.

With a thought she shunted power to all the weapon systems in the pyramid, taking them through a quick pre-cycle as the power core buried deep in the planet beneath the pyramid amped up its production by the tens, then hundreds, then thousands of times. What Star Force had originally misinterpreted as the extent of the pyramid was really just the cap on the massive defense station, for below the living levels was over 35 miles of automated structure that sunk down to touch the magma layer beneath, sucking some additional energy from it but primarily using the rock of the planet as additional, lateral armor while the thick Yeg’gor atop protected against the most direct and obvious attacks.

The structure beneath that cap stretched down like a spike into the planet, and within it was the massive power cores in addition to the bulk of the Tar’vem’jic, whose firing aperture was located atop the pyramid. The destructive energy would be gathered below and channeled up to it when needed, meaning that even if the armored cap was destroyed the bulk of the weapon would still lie intact deep inside the planetary crust along with most of the major systems, insuring that they would outlast the inhabitants.

Jasmine started sending pyramid data to the Star Force battlemap over comms so the planetary shields could coordinate their rapid and precise lowerings around the firing lines of the weapons she was about to bring online and had not been test fired in over 100,000 years…but neither she nor anyone else in the pyramid had any doubts as to whether they would work. As malevolent as they were, the V’kit’no’sat knew how to build proper equipment that time could barely scratch at.

Jasmine let her mind become absorbed in the V’kit’no’sat firing program, into which she incorporated other ‘Zen’zat’ stationed on different pedestals around the command deck. They took control of the other myriad weapons the pyramid had while she retained command of the big gun herself, sending the first energy transfer up to the peak and pooling it there in its final form as the last few seconds ticked off.

“Confirmed,” the Archon nearby said. “Evacuation zone is now clear.”

“Firing,” Jasmine said, rousing the large Tar’vem’jic beam cannon from its slumber and taking aim at the Mach’nel in orbit.

3

Ethan stood in the nexus onboard a command ship that was situated well away from the combat, as were the other manned vessels that could be taken out in a single shot from the Mach’nel, but his mind was right in the thick of the battle along with the other trailblazers as their drone fleets hammered the V’kit’no’sat in a weapons exchange that eclipsed everything to date in Star Force history.

The size of the enemy ships was so problematic that Ethan literally had to throw away drones in order to do damage, and even the Shivas and Ultimas weren’t making a huge dent. Had they brought in other summons that would have changed, but they didn’t have time now and they also didn’t want to let the V’kit’no’sat know they existed, leaving him with a superior ship count to fight with, but he was losing them at a rate that was galling.

The V’kit’no’sat were winning too, and not just in their assault on the shields. If this battle was allowed to continue as it was going the Mach’nel would remain standing after the other ships basically annihilated each other. Ethan knew it wasn’t going to come to that, for the planetary shields were going to fall first, but so long as Star Force didn’t get baited into attacking the Mach’nel they were going to destroy all the other V’kit’no’sat ships with the help of the planetary defense guns. That would be a win despite the losses, but the Mach’nel could then sit over its hole in the shields and systematically destroy every bit of infrastructure on Earth’s surface with impunity.

Using the summons against it was suicide, for the bigger ships were easier to destroy. Ethan knew they needed thousands of little stings that were hard to target to get through that armor and the V’kit’no’sat knew it as well, meaning that no matter how this battle ended the V’kit’no’sat were going to end up last man standing.

Except that they had made one critical mistake, and as the countdown in Ethan’s mind began to approach zero he and the other trailblazers started moving the Ultimas in closer to the Mach’nel subtly, keeping them behind a lot of other drones and their IDFs silent for the most part, but getting within range to completely blanket the huge ship. If even a single one of its multiple gravity drives could pull on the star or push off the planet then it could escape, meaning that full immersion was required with enough backups that when the V’kit’no’sat realized their mistake and turned their full attack on the Ultimas the overlapping field wouldn’t fall instantly.

How long it would stay up was the question mark here, and when the countdown reached 7 seconds all four trailblazers lit up the Ultimas and caught hundreds of V’kit’no’sat ships and thousands of their own drones inside the engine-crippling fields along with the Mach’nel.

“Time for the boomstick,” Ethan whispered as the countdown reached zero.

Mak’to’ran was onboard his Kafcha in the outer defense sphere with his Era’tran engaging in battle but also keeping his ship out of the worst of it as he watched the column of ships descending through the hole in the planetary shields. The leading vessels were taking a beating, but he could see that the Domjo with the Zen’zat onboard would easily make it to ground to release them. Whether or not it made it back up to orbit wasn’t certain but they were going to accomplish their mission one way or another, after which the fleet would withdraw and the assault would be solely in the Zen’zat’s hands.

Suddenly his displays lit up with the presence of interdiction fields. None were crossing his ship, but a huge chunk of both fleets were now without engine power, including the Mach’nel. He expected some type of counterattack to come, but the warning alarm indicating a tiny amount of power buildup at the assumed location of the planetary defense station nearly escaped his attention. Just as he was trying to determine the source of both issues the energy surge spiked as a massive detonation occurred in the cityscape on the heels of a brilliant orange beam that shot at an angle into the sky and tracked through the battling fleets and directly into the Mach’nel.

The horror of that single attack and all it implied chilled him to the bone. The planetary defense station was operational. The J’gar and Oso’lon had assured him that was impossible, for only they had the necessary codes to unlock the weaponry. This should not have been happening, but Mak’to’ran knew he didn’t have time to think about it. He had his fleet to save…or as much of it as he could.

“Target their interdictors exclusively!” he roared while also sending out mental commands to his Era’tran and the overall fleet. “We must free the Mach’nel!”

“Yeah baby!” Sara yelled while still micromanaging her portion of the fleet and making sure all of their own ships stayed out of the firing line they’d cleverly disguised, for only a handful of seconds after the first Tar’vem’jic beam hit the Mach’nel’s shields and took a chunk out of their power a second shot was fired, then quickly a third.

Meanwhile there was a huge debris cloud expanding out around where the pyramid was, but it wasn’t diminishing. Within the next 20 seconds more chunks of debris were began being blown off, soon followed by a scattering of additional weaponsfire, for while far smaller in magnitude, the pyramid did have more than one battery that could reach orbit. And as more holes were punched in the surrounding cityscape and firing lines were opened up, that weaponry, in both beam and orb form, began flying up to hit the lowest ships in the V’kit’no’sat lines that were no longer assaulting the planet, but were turning around and charging towards the Ultimas.

But the Ultimas weren’t the only interdiction-capable drones in the fleet, and the much smaller support ships were actively snagging single vessels and delaying their attacks on the larger platforms as the Mach’nel used its own Tar’vem’jic to shoot through multiple drones simultaneously to get at the Ultimas. It didn’t even bother trying to shoot back at the pyramid, who now had its own shield generator active beneath the planetary layers, making it clear that nothing was going to get down to it.

That meant it was a race to do damage to the Mach’nel before it could escape, and Sara literally jumped for joy a few inches into the air when subsequent hits from that big, beautiful gun finally punched through the Mach’nel’s shields and hit the Yeg’gor armor beneath. It had already been damaged from its run-in with the star, but it greedily began soaking up as much energy as it could and diminishing the destructive effect…but there was no way to absorb that much energy, and bits and pieces of glowing armor debris began blasting off like fireworks with each additional hit.

Over and over the pyramid fired, with its secondary weaponry getting more and more intense as it ripped apart the cityscape around it. Those Dair’me and Sat’chi may have been older models, with the former now replaced by the upgrades made to the Var’ko that most V’kit’no’sat ships carried, but the sheer size of the Dair’me saw pure green beams of transit energy hit enemy shields and scatter across their surface like lightning, draining so much energy that it almost like cheating.

The shield draining weapon did damage to the hull where it hit, but considerably less. The armor on the V’kit’no’sat Kafcha especially could almost shrug it off, but the gunners in the pyramid wisely didn’t continue with the attack, switching to other ship targets that were going for the closest Ultimas and stripping their shields away as well, allowing the drones to do more damage on their own but also setting up shots for the Sat’chi orbs.

They were the slowest firing weapon the pyramid had that could reach orbit, though their tightly packed energy matrix continually expanded as it traveled, making it an extended ‘medium’ ranged weapon, but the V’kit’no’sat fleet was close enough and their ships large enough to catch virtually all of the sparkling teal orbs that were the big brother to the basic Dre’mo’don that was the foundation for V’kit’no’sat weaponry.

When one of the Sat’chi hit the unshielded hull of a V’kit’no’sat Domjo it nearly snapped the entire ship in half, melting in through the armor and detonating inside. It blew out through so many areas that the ship was immediately out of the fight, though the larger vessels with thicker armor didn’t succumb so fast, but there were six different Sat’chi cannons in the pyramid and soon all of them had broken free of the cityscape and were following up on the Dair’me, knocking out ships so fast that many Ultimas survived longer than they should have on the lower edge of the battle.

All the while the Tar’vem’jic continued to hammer the Mach’nel, pounding the same spot in the armor until it finally broke through. When it did the interior decks vaporized…both the water, the J’gar, and the weaker internal structures. The ship was so huge everything didn’t die at once, but with a couple shots put into that hole the Tar’vem’jic readjusted its aim and started boring another one some 60 miles away on the hull all the while the Mach’nel sat helpless as it fought the surrounding fleet trying to free itself from the interdiction effect.

Kaalo saw the cityscape over the planetary defense station explode, with his eyes noticing the orange beam leaping up into space even before the destruction registered. It was so powerful it just melted through all the unarmored structures above, then the surrounding destruction ensued as horror gripped him and every other Zen’zat. Their mission had gone from one of leisurely time to a desperate assault. He knew they had to get to the planetary defense station and disable it from the inside while the fleet retreated, but…

Then those hopes were crushed as he started to see the cityscape surrounding the defense station explode where the Tar’vem’jic wasn’t, and even as their column of warships were rushing their way down to the surface and almost ready to release the gunships he knew their mission was a failure…for the secondary weaponry in the defense station was blowing apart the cityscape covering it, and if that continued there would be no way for the Zen’zat to approach the structure without getting immediately shot. The disadvantage Star Force had created by building a city overtop the defense station was literally being peeled away, meaning he and the other Zen’zat had no chance of success.

He had four seconds to dwell on that before a green beam leapt up through the distant debris clouds and hit the Domjo he was in. The Dair’me tore through the shields in one shot, with the excess energy eating into the hull armor but not penetrating it…then a second shot hit and Kaalo could hear the destruction outside the gunship.

When the third hit it was only a graze, for they had dropped too low for the weaponry to target them around the curve of the planet, but it wasn’t a Dair’me. It was a Sat’chi orb whose graze was enough to tear off a section of the Domjo, destroying enough gravity drives that the ship fell out of alignment with the others and almost rammed a Dak’bri covering it from behind. A collision was averted, but when the Domjo slid out of the protective arrowhead blocking that was dying for it, a pair of Ardents from the surface hit the ship and reduced it to a giant falling ball of metal with the Zen’zat stuck inside.

Kaalo’s gunship immediately lifted off, with the pilots not waiting any longer. They overrode the hangar bay doors and opened them just in time for about two thirds of the gunships to escape before the Domjo rammed the planet’s surface fast enough to imbed the entire ship in the cityscape. Kaalo saw it from a much too close rear view as the weight of the ship crushed the towers beneath then punched into the undercity and down into the bedrock below…with him knowing that the Zen’zat still trapped in the hangar were either dead or pinned inside.

A few gunships nearby his got hit with anti-air fire and exploded on contact, for whatever was shooting them was not small weaponry, but the pilots already had the flock of Zen’zat craft heading for the surface and soon the survivors got down below building height and out of most of the anti-air, though Kaalo’s own ship took several smaller hits as they angled into surface-hugging flight as the pilots evaded whatever they could without orders to follow.

Still receiving telemetry from the orbiting fleet, Kaalo could see the destruction around the defense station continue with debris flying up for miles around the orange beam leaping into the sky…and during the brief pauses in firing he could see the green/black Yeg’gor armored plates that were the peak of the defense station reasserting themselves over the landscape as if the city above had been little more than worthless camouflage.

Someone had screwed up massively, but Kaalo didn’t expect he’d survive long enough to find out what had happened. The more he watched the destruction around the defense station the more he knew they could never achieve their objective…which left the question of what could they destroy elsewhere in preparation for the inevitable assault to follow, for no matter what happened to the fleet in orbit, the V’kit’no’sat would not permit these abominations to exist and they’d return in far greater numbers…whatever was necessary…to purge this planet and all others that they had defiled.

And whatever the Zen’zat now beneath the planetary shield could destroy would keep other V’kit’no’sat ships alive later when it happened…meaning they needed to take out anti-orbital guns, shield generators, and power cores.

“Kaalo,” he heard another Zen’zat’s voice say over the comm, “we need to combine our forces to have the most effect. Proceed to the new landing zone with as many gunships as you can get through.”

Kaalo saw the now distant landing zone pop up, several hundred miles away but not near the defense station. Traveling that far by air was risky, but it was Neatras giving him the order and the older Era’tran Zen’zat was one that he was not going to argue with.

“Confirmed,” was all he said, then he shunted the coordinates to the pilots of all the Brat’mar gunships and got them headed towards the edge of the defense station’s own flat shield that was covering the landscape, but not so low that they couldn’t fly under it.

“Zen’zat, hear me,” he said through the comm to all the Brat’mar gunships remaining. “Our mission has failed before it began. The defense station is operational and the Star Force structures we were to approach through are being destroyed. We cannot get close to it now without dying needlessly, so we are proceeding to secondary targets. We will die on this planet shortly, but the more damage we can do now will assist the planetary assault that is assured to come later. This treachery will not be ignored and you can be confident that this world will fall. How many V’kit’no’sat die taking it is the question. If we can destroy a single shield generator we will reduce that number, so as we travel across this vermin-infested world and we are killed one by one, know that we are fighting to save the V’kit’no’sat coming here in the near future. Hold nothing back, but focus on worthwhile targets.”

“We understand,” another Zen’zat said, with telepathic pulses from the others indicating their agreement and Kaalo knowing he needn’t say anymore. All Zen’zat were fiercely loyal to the V’kit’no’sat, and as had been determined previously, this Star Force was not rogue Zen’zat. They were something else, a type of abomination that Kaalo would not survive long enough to figure out, but the Zen’zat here were loyal beyond question and they would do their duty to the end.

But if they could get to ground near their target and disappear into the undercity, they were going to be very hard to dislodge. He had no doubt there would be plenty of Archons to kill along the way, but their primary objective was the planetary defenses…though he wouldn’t mind if a particular Archon showed up and gave him a third try to destroy him.

And with his fellow Zen’zat alongside, Kaalo had no doubts as to the outcome if such an encounter was to occur again.

4

When Roger saw the first Tar’vem’jic blast penetrate the Mach’nel’s hull, 28 weapons ports went offline with it. While in the overall carnage of the battle that wasn’t much, it did slow the destruction rate of the drones a bit and the trailblazer now had a dead zone to maneuver in. It wasn’t safe from fire, for there were many other weapons on the Mach’nel that could still cover the area around the breach, but it was less dangerous than before and he needed to take every advantage possible keep the Ultimas in position for the maximum number of seconds.

Right now they were getting hammered, with Roger and the others pulling so many drones in front of them to block that the region around each of them looked like a confetti field. Even so, many of the Ultimas were being destroyed and he had to keep moving those still functional around and adjusting the size of their interdiction cones to insure enough overlap that the destruction of one wouldn’t open up a gravity drive that could then drag the enemy ship out of the others.

The more chess pieces Roger lost the harder that was, but every shot they could get in with the pyramid defenses was worth it, not only against the Mach’nel but the rest of the V’kit’no’sat fleet that had to stay here to defend it. They were losing many ships to the other pyramid defenses, but the drones were inflicting the most damage…though their number was decreasing rapidly.

But the trailblazers were playing a losing game and soon Roger saw a hole open up in the IDF coverage. Rio adjusted quickly, bringing around another Ultima and repositioning its field, but oddly the Mach’nel didn’t move during those 6 seconds of opportunity. The Tar’vem’jic from the pyramid kept hammering it while the Mach’nel’s smaller version continued poaching Ultimas up until another hole in the field resulted that the trailblazers could not cover. Only a piece of the Mach’nel was now free to touch gravity, but again the massive ship didn’t move for a good 20 seconds…then it began a slow drift away from the battlefield, too slow for the pyramid’s big gun to miss as it continued to pound additional holes in the armor and gut the interior.

The movement caught the Ultimas out of position and while Roger tried to move his to follow, the rest of the V’kit’no’sat fleet was in the way and he couldn’t get his Ultimas through quickly enough. Adjusting cone size bought them another half minute, but eventually the Mach’nel pulled out entirely and made a slow microjump up to a higher orbit.

“Stay,” Roger said to the other trailblazers as he saw several ships from their groups begin to break off and pursue as he organized what remained of the Ultimas and began pinning as many V’kit’no’sat ships in place as they could. Many began to flee in the wake of the Mach’nel, but the more they could hold here the better. Roger knew they needed to chase the big ship, but if them delaying a half hour saved another hundred drones then it would be worth it…though he too wanted to kill the thing once and for all.

Fortunately the other three trailblazers trusted him and began reforming their fleets into containment bottles, using both the IDFs and their dampener shields to block exiting jumplines as the pyramid continued firing into the fleet…and with the Mach’nel no longer around to shoot at, it’s big gun was now targeting the ‘smaller’ V’kit’no’sat ships.

Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha was one that was caught in the shadow of a Star Force interdictor, unable to move along with several other vessels as they urgently tried to destroy everything between them and the vessel pinning them in place. He’d already ordered a chunk of the free vessels to leave, knowing that if they were to stick around and fight they’d die against the planetary defense weaponry, so right now those further into the naval brawl were having to fight their way out…but his ship was one of many that couldn’t.

The Era’tran could also see that the Star Force vessels were making holes in their formation to allow the Tar’vem’jic through, letting him know where it was going to fire next. Wisely, it was now targeting the largest vessels and eliminating them with a handful of shots each. When the Kafcha pinned next to him took a hit to its weakened shields they fell completely, then the second shot punched into the hull armor so hard it burnt through with the single hit…then the third landing in the same place ate through the interior and punched a dome out the far side from the internal explosions, cracking the armor there for a few seconds before the next shot cut through the ship entirely, with the remaining beam continuing on out into space.

With the Star Force vessels realigning to clear a shot to his Kafcha, Mak’to’ran was given a slight reprieve as the Tar’vem’jic put more shots in to the massive vessel beside him, for even with the critical amount of damage it had sustained in one area it was still fighting out of others. The next four shots hit on the underside of the right prong and all but severed it from the ship as the interdictor holding them in place was finally disabled.

Engine power returned to a number of ships and Mak’to’ran ordered an immediate retreat, wanting to stay and help others escape that were still pinned, but at this point the battle was snowballing in the enemy’s favor and most ships that stayed around were going to be destroyed. Had the defense station not been in play that would have been a different story, but it was killing their largest vessels with ease.

There were hundreds still trapped without engine power and more fighting their way to get free of the Star Force vessel swarms. Knowing he had to act now, he set a course to take him and those ships around him out through those swarms with his Kafcha physically ramming several to make way. He managed to link up with another group of 7 with a small redirect, but he couldn’t risk delaying more than that. As soon as he dragged those ships into the clear while keeping the bulk of the Star Force fleet and even his own dying ships between him and the defense station to block incoming Tar’vem’jic shots, the Era’tran commander and his surviving fleet group made emergency jumps out beyond the range of the massive weapon, then moved to regroup with the badly damaged Mach’nel that was limping its way into a high planetary orbit…though moving through the cluttered ring of Star Force orbital stations around the planet and blasting apart a lot of them on the way out.

Mak’to’ran could understand their frustration, but this was no time for vengeance. That would come later and, damaged or not, he needed the Mach’nel back at the center of what was left of his fleet. He gave the order for a rendezvous and the limping ship finally broke off its strafing attack as it redirected up from that circular plain and towards the jumpline for the star where Mak’to’ran and every other surviving ship was congregating…though he quickly had to amend that and took his and another Kafcha back towards the planet when several heavily damaged ships had successfully fled the range of the planetary defense station, but were being hounded by the tiny ship swarms and picked apart.

Mak’to’ran thought he could pull a few vessels out of that mess before they were destroyed, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to save them all.

“Roger, can you and Ethan tidy up here?” Rio asked in a mildly ecstatic voice as he was seeing reports from the surface that several crashed ships were spilling out V’kit’no’sat into the Antarctic cities.

“Go,” Roger said. “And take Ethan too. I’ve got this.”

“You sure?” Ethan asked.

“Unfortunately we don’t have that many ships remaining. I can handle them all. Get to ground and link up in a triple battlemeld. You’ll need it for the big ones.”

“They’re not what I’m worried about,” Rio said ominously, knowing that the larger V’kit’no’sat races climbing out of the ship debris could be taken down by mechs and aerial craft. It was those small enough to disappear into the cityscape that were going to be a problem, for a lot of the crash areas were still populated...and in addition to the deaths resulting from the enemy ships crushing them, he was already starting to get reports of the V’kit’no’sat going on a killing spree and taking out as many civilians as they could find.

“Go,” Roger insisted even as he was assuming operational command over what was left of the other three fleets and sending them on pursuit courses for the disabled and pinned V’kit’no’sat ships in orbit, along with those limping away on one or two gravity drives at most.

Rio, Sara, and Ethan all disconnected from the battlemeld at the same time and within minutes Roger saw dropships emerging from their respective command ships that took them down to the surface. Out of prudence he sent a few smaller drones ahead of them to help pluck any remaining weaponry off the crashed V’kit’no’sat ships. Losing one of his peers to a single working battery at this point was something he wasn’t going to risk…plus it was a lot easier to kill V’kit’no’sat with close-in naval guns than with mechs.

Roger assigned that submission to another Archon and let her handle it while he sent two more of his most trusted naval comrades off to chase the slowly fleeing ships while he stayed put and handled those that couldn’t run and were slugging it out for all they were worth with the drone fleet that had now fully surrounded them save for firing lines being opened up for the pyramid weaponry. Right now it was doing more damage than his entire fleet combined, and the remaining V’kit’no’sat ships weren’t going to last more than a few minutes at best, so the trailblazer opened a comm to them.

“You are beaten,” he said in V’kit’no’sat. “Signal your surrender now and I will let you live. Fail to do so and you won’t have time to regret your decision. Cease fire and signal your compliance by individual ship. If not, would you mind telling me why you were stupid enough to enter firing range of the planetary defense station? Or did you think it wasn’t still here? I was pretty sure we didn’t hide it all that well.”

While no surrender came in, his goading did prompt a response from a Brat’mar vessel that was still half intact.

“Who unlocked the weaponry for you traitors? Tell us so we can kill them before we come back for you.”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Unlocked? What made you think it was locked in the first place?”

“Only the Oso’lon and J’gar had those codes. Which is it?”

Roger smiled widely, connecting the dots and realizing that the pyramid weaponry must have been under some kind of lockdown prior to the Zak’de’ron visit. When the dragon unlocked the restricted files he must also have unlocked everything else…and if there had been a block on the weaponry above and beyond what was restricted to Zen’zat, that explained why they thought they could assault Antarctica and not come under fire. In fact, that ground assault run was probably to deliver ground troops with the intention of retaking the pyramid…and then unlock it for themselves.

That was a sweet bit of strategy, which made their karma-induced failure all the more gratifying. They’d all but wiped out the Zak’de’ron, and yet with a simple code they’d managed to vicariously get their first dose of revenge…though he wasn’t going to tell the V’kit’no’sat that.

“Why don’t you wipe both out just to make sure?” Roger suggested, but no reply was forthcoming as battle damage cut the transmission. He kept a keen eye on each of the V’kit’no’sat ships under heavy assault, but none of them transmitted a surrender or deactivated their weapons. They stubbornly fought to the death, but Roger had the pyramid cease fire while there were still a few damaged ships remaining. The drones finished them off, but left several mostly intact hulks stripped of weapons and power intentionally…and by design they were mostly the smaller V’kit’no’sat races.

Roger left a scattering of drones behind and ordered in one of the command ships and multiple jumpships to that location, using their weaponry to maintain possession of the remnants of that destroyed V’kit’no’sat fleet and to beginning scanning for survivors to be captured later, but for right now they were simply going to be contained while Roger’s command ship and the rest of the controlling vessels that had been waiting safely out of firing range followed the drone swarm as the trailblazer took it out past the limping V’kit’no’sat ships that were already being taken down.

Roger left a few jumpships behind there with orders to offer a surrender, but he didn’t stick around to find out how that went down. He bypassed them entirely with the bulk of his swarm and headed straight to the stellar jumppoint, racing the Mach’nel that clearly had most of its propulsion disabled. There was no way it was going to leave this system, but so long as that primary weapon was still online it was going to be a problem. Before it could regenerate its shields they needed to take it out, though the secondary shield generators covering the aperture of both it and the other weapon systems were very hard to destroy…both because of their small surface area and because they had to be designed so robustly to match up with the Yeg’gor armor, otherwise you could just shoot out all the weapons and leave the floating fortress impotent.

The pyramid was too far away to pinpoint target its twin weapon system and the drones had been ordered not to shoot the Mach’nel, focusing on the other vessels in order to protect the Ultimas, but now that that wasn’t the case Roger was going to hit that weapon directly. If the ship tried to run he knew he had the engine power to overtake them unless they were playing more wounded than they actually were.

If they delayed, then the few summons he had enroute would catch up and they could hammer them further, but Roger knew that he couldn’t give the Mach’nel time to make repairs, no matter how much of its interior had been gutted. As powerful as the pyramid weaponry was the sheer size of that ship was too much to destroy quickly…but the holes were big enough that he could slide his smallest drones inside them, and once he did that they could methodically gut the entire ship and the V’kit’no’sat would have no defense against it.

So Roger had two primary objectives as his swarm approached the stellar jumppoint. Kill the Tar’vem’jic before it ate away another significant portion of his drones and get some of his cutters and corvettes inside so they could either force a surrender or take out the occupants…though blasting through hundreds of miles of interior decks would take forever with only a few holes punched through the armor. Roger could have his fleet chip away at it and wear it down from the outside, but with over a thousand V’kit’no’sat vessels remaining to escort it, damaged as they were, he knew he wasn’t going to have that option.

But then suddenly those ships that were closing on the Mach’nel to protect it from his fleet reversed course, heading instead back to the jumppoint where they coalesced, waiting for other damaged ones to catch up as an incoming transmission from one of the Era’tran Kafcha popped up. Roger accepted it and was suddenly looking at the hologram of an unarmored T-Rex. He’d seen visual records of them before, but this was the first live one he had ever encountered, despite the fact it was just a hologram. That said, he could feel a chill as the big head swung slightly to orient on his image and its teeth became partly visible as its lips rippled in some type of gesture he wasn’t familiar with.

“The victory is yours, Star Force,” he all but spat with contempt, “but we leave with the knowledge of your sponsors. Either the Oso’lon or the J’gar are responsible for this, and once we determine which we will get the answers from them as to what they’ve created in you. Your secrets will be exposed and your weaknesses determined, then we will return and destroy you all. You have my promise on that.”

“So…I guess you’re not going to surrender if I offer it then?” Roger responded with a touch of lag in the transmission.

“There is no surrender. You are an abomination that cannot be allowed to exist. We are your death.”

“Still. I offered your other ships a chance to live and I’ll offer your remaining fleet the same.”

“Chase us if you wish, but you will not catch us. Nor will I wait for more of your reinforcements to arrive, but from one warrior to another, you have done well this day. You could not have done so without such treason, but you had an opportunity and you seized it. Do not expect another one.”

“Are you leaving your Mach’nel behind as a victory gift?”

“They don’t have the engine power to flee, but they can destroy many more of your ships before they succumb. You may regard it as such if you like, but they will not surrender.”

“Abandon half of your ships and I will let you recover their crews and those onboard the Mach’nel before you leave.”

The Era’tran twitched its head violently.

“There will be no deals made between us. You are our enemy. We will not be lulled into thinking otherwise and provide you with another opportunity for treachery.”

“Hey, you’re the ones that came here to kill us. We didn’t go knocking on your door.”

“No, you did not. We’ve discovered you prior to your preparations being complete…and we will not allow them to come to pass. We know of your Hadarak. Grow as many more as you are able, but it will not be enough. We will return shortly, and when we do we will annihilate you and all of your abominations. You have fought well here, and it is a pity that your sponsor has brought this upon you, for you would have made respectable Zen’zat, but there can be no consolidation between us. In addition to what you are, your victory here has sealed your fate. Should we meet again, all I can offer you is a swift death.”

“You’ll have to earn it.”

“We will.”

With that the Era’tran’s comm cut out and the surviving V’kit’no’sat fleet began making microjumps towards the star, though some ships had to combine into linked pairs and be towed out. That appeared to leave Roger with only the Mach’nel to deal with, but he knew better than to take the V’kit’no’sat at their word. He sent a chunk of his ships after them, not to engage but to shadow them closely enough that they couldn’t attack another world or facility with impunity. If they tried his ships would engage and delay them until the main group could catch up, but that wasn’t to happen.

The V’kit’no’sat headed directly for the star then to a shorter jumpline than the one they’d come in on, probably choosing it due to the reduced engine power many of their ships were forced to deal with. When they jumped out Roger sent a warning to every system along their expected path, but he didn’t chase after them. He recalled the pursuit fleet back to his main group, for they still had the sitting Mach’nel to deal with and it had already drifted back towards the ring of orbital stations and was blasting into them as one last gesture of defiance.

It had to be destroyed, but Roger was going to need everything he had available to reduce the losses he was going to take…and there was no time to call in additional summons. Of the few enroute only another Ultima and two Shivas had arrived. The others he had summoned were still creeping in from their deep space holding stations and he couldn’t wait for them. He needed to take the Mach’nel out now and get after the limping V’kit’no’sat fleet before it left their territory.

5

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Trevor yelled to the pilots in the lounge as he ran in. “Troops on the ground!”

Irene Darrington jumped up off the couch where she was glued to the holographic battlemap next to several hundred other pilots watching the battles over their heads take place. All of them moved instantly, not fully understanding what they were needed for but ready to get into the fight rather than waiting to get shot from orbit when the shields over them eventually went down. Fortunately their base in Antarctica wasn’t in the attack corridor, but they weren’t more than 70 miles away from the edge of the breached shield.

Irene ran with the others to the hangar, already fully dressed for combat given the situation save for her torso armor. That was waiting for her next to her gunship on a nearby table, which she grabbed and slapped on her chest as he headed for the ladder to the cockpit.

The armor formed around her, connecting to what she already wore around her waist and extending up into a helmet that she immediately took back down, with the material forming a bulge behind her neck and leaving her face exposed to the air as she climbed up the catwalk-like stairs and dove into the wide cockpit of the gunship while the other pilots jumped into mostly skeets and an assortment of other craft.

Irene slid into the seat, which was a full model as opposed to the pommel that the skeets carried. She could even have fit two more people in the cockpit with her if needed, but Irene was a veteran pilot that had learned long ago to master the insane firepower that this ship carried. It wasn’t the most agile craft and required escorts against enemy fighters, but give it a target to annihilate and it could lay down more damage than a full squadron of skeets.

The ship was five times bigger and essentially a thick frisbee with boxy edges, originating from a design that had been modified many times over the years as opposed to the skeets which had remained basically the same, but inside the ship the holographic displays were identical. The cockpit disappeared and Irene’s eyes were seeing the hangar and outline of the gunship as she connected to the mental interface. When that happened the very efficient holographic displays were overridden and her mind linked directly to the gunship, with its sensors becoming her senses and her being able to see everything around it in all directions simultaneously…which at this moment showed skeets and other gunships around her lifting off the deck and drifting towards the distant hangar doors.

Irene followed them out in the flow, then popped into the air above the Antarctic cityscape as the fighters accelerated up to altitude and formed up by squadrons. Hers was comprised of two gunships and 8 escorting skeets, but the others were a mix of craft that got even more mashed up as they were joined by more aerial fighters coming up from other bases spread across Antarctica.

“Listen up,” their Archon commander said over the comm to all of the fighters coming out Irene’s base. “Enemy ground troop deployment is scattered and originating from the crashed ships. Nothing got down intact that we could see, but we’ve got survivors in the area to evacuate and enemy troops roaming around trying to kill everything they can while more are crawling out of their wrecked ships. Proceed on course and prepare to attack surface targets on the crashed ships. If they have any anti-air batteries operational we have to take them out first, then we can start pounding the Viks.”

Irene blew out a slow breath, not liking the idea of going up against naval-caliber guns, but they had no choice. The enemy warships were huge and now cratering the cityscape to the southeast with the smoke plumes even now visible on the horizon. As they gradually got closer she was able to see what looked like mountains sticking up out of the landscape in various places, but they weren’t natural topography. They were the parts of the gigantic V’kit’no’sat ships that had fallen to ground into what had unfortunately been a populated area.

“All those people underneath,” she said on her squadron comm.

“Yeah,” Makkron agreed. “Never had a chance.”

“Battlemap says those things aren’t completely dead, but I’m seeing no shields,” Heather added. “And look at those…”

Irene heard her cut off the instant they all received organizational orders. Much like the naval warships in the fleet, the fighters were also capable of being directed from afar and the identifier of the one giving them orders was a ViLord that was not part of the aerial core. She was still in orbit, but everyone immediately readjusted onto the various headings she supplied, splitting up the mass of fighters and sending Irene’s squadron along with two others down towards the ground where they began flying at dizzying speed between the tallest of the city spires towards the rising V’kit’no’sat ship debris.

When they got within 12 miles, targeting data popped up along with orders to slow their speed by half. The rest of the fighters in the overall group pushed on ahead, then Irene’s squadron was released to pursue their target…which was the troops spilling out of the largest ship/mountain on the horizon.

She watched the others as they engaged weapons batteries on the hulks, seeing immediate casualties as several fighters were batted out of the sky as they swarmed individual weapons, taking them out on a single pass. Irene hoped those pilots’ armored cocoons had held up, but even as she watched in mind’s eye a pair of skeets fell out of the sky and impacted the angled side of the V’kit’no’sat hull, careening down it into the city debris. Then she noted several beams firing on weapons batteries that she backtracked to mech units already in the area.

That was good, because aerial cover wasn’t going to do enough against ground troops if they could get out into the cityscape and use the buildings for cover…though for her target that wasn’t going to be an issue.

“Damn he’s big,” Heather said as their primary target shifted from a group of smaller bipeds to a single huge brontosaurus pushing out of a wall segment in the crashed ship and walking into the Star Force city.

“They are dinosaurs,” Irene said in amazement as the miles clicked off fast and they were nearly in visual range, using the battlemap data to ‘see’ their target before they came up on it. Orders from the controlling Archon determined their approach path along with a timer and Irene adjusted accordingly as the other two squadrons broke off and moved to their own attack runs.

“At least they’re not wearing arm…” Jarren said, almost getting the last word out before thin lines running across the long-necked dinosaur suddenly exploded out and covered the huge body from head to tail in brilliant green battle plates. “Son of a bitch.”

A moment later two points on the thing’s body started shooting into nearby buildings…then the first attack came in the form of a squadron strafing it from the northeast just as Irene’s squadron turned into view. They lit it up with a cascade of weaponsfire as they flew past, but what the targeting computer identified as an ‘Oso’lon’ had energy shields protecting it and they didn’t go down.

Irene got a proximity warning as a perimeter radius was set up around their target as a no-fly zone. For some reason she wasn’t to get her gunship within 600 meters of it, and even beyond that, high speed approaches were being called for as she noticed a star of mechs racing their way through the city about 3 minutes out as a scattering of people could be seen running away from the crash zones on the streets.

When Irene came around on their attack run she kept her speed up while gaining some altitude…at which point return fire from the Oso’lon hit the skeet beside her. It didn’t go down, but lost most of its shields and had to peel up to avoid getting shot again. Irene unloaded all four of her maulers and a string of missiles into the target then pulled up before the 600 meter line, flying hard to stick to the track the Archon had given her, but she didn’t make it.

For some reason there was a tug on her ship and Irene couldn’t hold the turn, smacking into a nearby building and bouncing off it, fortunately, but blowing out her shields and crunching the entire right side of the gunship. One of her maulers was knocked offline in addition to a Keema beam, and half the missile launchers were now jammed.

Irene recovered before she hit another building then fought to get back with her squadron as they circled around for another long pass.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, seeing the next squadron coming through also having navigational trouble.

“Some type of grapple weapon,” her squadron leader advised. “It’s why we have the ‘no fly’ zone. Get too close and they’ll pull you to ground.”

“How?”

“No clue. Can you still fly that thing?”

“Yeah. Just lost some firepower.”

“Saw that. We’ll come in a little higher this time…” he said as they suddenly saw another Oso’lon crawling out of the debris.

“Wonderful. Now there’s two of them,” Heather pointed out as the second one deployed its armor to cover a huge gash in its armor that was leaking enormous amounts of what looked like purple blood.

“One’s injured,” Jarren pointed out.

“Let’s add to it,” Irene said, miffed about already taking damage as they approached, but then noticed one of the crushed buildings nearby as the two Oso’lon start to move…with pieces of it taking to the air and flying towards them the size of boulders.

She took immediate evasive action, but her and four others had to abort their attack run entirely, though the others got through. Whatever damage they did was soaked up by the V’kit’no’sat’s shields, making Irene wonder what the hell was going on. How tough were these things, and since when they could go Jedi and force throw rocks?”

“Seriously, what the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t know, just stick to the plan and trust the Archons,” Heather suggested as they turned around to come back at them from a different direction but still down in the buildings enough to give them some cover, for the two Oso’lon were throwing up a lot of anti-air fire above the buildings as Irene got a sudden redirect. She hit the brakes and coasted to a stop as the other fighters mostly continued on, though two slowed nearby her but went different ways as new surface contacts were being highlighted.

Irene took her gunship down almost onto a street and followed the tracking prompt until she could see a Zen’zat running amongst a group of Humans and shooting them up every chance he got. Gritting her teeth and making sure her aim was good, Irene put a few Keema shots into the pavement near him, causing the enemy infantry to juke to the side and not shoot the two people directly ahead. After that he was too close to others for her to fire, so she pushed ahead and got right up on top of him…but it was still no good, there were too many civilians fleeing for their lives and getting caught out.

This guy was so fast he could bounce from one group to another in the blink of an eye, but Irene risked a shot in between two and clipped him in the leg with the anti-infantry weapon, but he didn’t go down. He barely stumbled at all as he continued to run forward and punched a woman so hard in the back his hand came out her chest, then he tossed the body aside and darted inside a building where Irene couldn’t shoot him.

“Mother fucker,” she swore, swinging around so she could aim at the building entrance. If he came back out she was going to nail him, and if not she could at least buy those people closest to her a bit of a head start…then she got another redirect and flew around a few blocks to find another Zen’zat out in the open.

This one she nailed with a mauler shot. He went down on impact, but started to get back up as he limped to the side heading for a doorway.

“No you don’t,” she said, peppering two Keema lances across his path…with the Zen’zat’s body doing a nice Darth Maul impression and severing at the waist with his torso and legs rolling off in different directions.

“One down,” she noted to herself as the Archon kept her gunship moving through the streets killing/chasing various Zen’zat until a much larger contact came into place overtop the downed V’kit’no’sat ship. The Corvette-class drone took out a few operational weapons batteries on top, then eased over to where the two Oso’lon were stubbornly refusing to go down.

Irene watched with keen interest as the naval weapons rained down on their shields…which held up for far too long, during which they fired back in what seemed to be a fair contest for a few moments, then the Oso’lon took off running at surprising speed. The first one head butted a Shadow Cat-class mech out of its way and got around to the far side of a building that blocked the corvette’s fire from above.

The second headed a different direction, and it was towards it that Irene was sent on an individual strafing run. When she got within range the corvette was back to firing a few shots at it, but not many of the weapons batteries had good lines of sight on the giant dinosaur that still refused to go down even as its shields failed in a few places.

Irene hoped she’d hit one of those spots as she received an order to unload all of her remaining missiles on it…which weren’t that many given the damage she’d taken earlier. When the pilot did so she added the three maulers when power allowed and hit the Oso’lon from the left flank as it ran across a street opening, essentially ambushing it from close range while staying outside the ‘no fly’ zone.

But that’s when things began to go wrong, for her ship was tugged again…towards the intersection as the Oso’lon stopped, turned, and began running towards her.

Irene applied as much power as she could, shooting her ship up between the buildings and reaching for clean air, but the big thing was too fast and the closer it got the firmer the hold on her ship became. Soon she couldn’t gain any altitude and actually was pulled back down in front of it, gently crashing into the road all the while her engines were on full to try and get her airborne again.

Multiple weapon shots nailed her ship, breaking through its robust shields and then quickly blasting apart her hull. Irene lost all weapons and flying capability, becoming the pilot of a paperweight with a few sensors still working along with her battlemap connection so she could see the Oso’lon run up to and step on her gunship…crushing it even flatter than it had been with multiple steps as it walked over top and ran onward, leaving Irene safe in the protective cocoon and feeling like an idiot for getting caught despite the fact that she’d respected the ‘no fly’ zone.

6

Roger brought the fleet into range of the Mach’nel, accelerating hard to diminish the time spent with it outranging them, then slamming on the brakes to bring the drones in close as the controlling ships stayed far out of the fray. He saw that limited shields had been reestablished over parts of the Mach’nel, but some areas were still unprotected and those were centered around the area where the hull had holes in it.

He knew he had to target those areas and the Mach’nel knew it had to defend them…with the massive ship moving in close to an evacuated Star Force station and pressing its weak side up against it to block incoming fire.

“Nice move,” he said as he ordered his ships to focus fire on a few weapons batteries that were exposed. Each one was redundantly shielded, but if he could start picking away the Mach’nel’s weaponry it would diminish the number of ships he’d lose…plus the Mach’nel had just given his ships something to hide behind as well, with him sending out orders to cycle lightly damaged ships behind the station when able, though those being pulverized by the Tar’vem’jic didn’t qualify.

Roger kept the Ultimas back near his command ship but had the Shivas in the fight to help soak up damage from the secondary weapons. They did nothing but provide big targets to the Tar’vem’jic, but he needed them in there to extend the longevity of the smaller ships, for the V’kit’no’sat gunners seemed to prefer shooting the biggest threat they could find.

Roger saw one Var’ko battery go out after an insane amount of pounding through its tiny, redundant shields. Each time it fired it had to lower them briefly, exposing only a few meter gap in the coverage to get the energy weapon released, but hit them with enough firepower and on occasion something would get back through the opposite way. Roger didn’t think that had happened here, but the coordinated firepower was enough to rip those dedicated shields away and melt the edges of the Yeg’gor armor crater in which the weapon had sat.

One less threat to his ships, but there were thousands of weapons spread over the Mach’nel and hammering through the armor to get at the interior and rip away their power sources was not a good option. As it was, Roger wasn’t even going to hammer away on their intact shields, instead focusing firepower and plucking the few weapons exposed by previous damage…then he ordered his fleet to open fire on the abandoned station.

The unshielded construct held up well to the firepower, for it was armored too, but nothing compared to the protection the Mach’nel had. Roger cut through several sections deliberately while having his ships shoot others for distraction purposes only. Debris was flying everywhere as the Mach’nel kept close and used the delay to continue picking off drones left and right, but what they didn’t see were the channels being cut through the station that several of Roger’s smallest drones, Cutter-class, were sneaking their way through.

Then before they realized what was happening the ‘safe’ side of the station exploded in a few key points, keeping most of it intact but opening up those conduits to allow the cutters to pass through the narrow gap between station and Mach’nel…and into the craters in its hull.

Each of the football field-sized ships disappeared inside the breaches in the armor and traveled inside through the gutted areas of the ship, blasting away at blocking debris and pushing their way through what was the equivalent of an 8 foot high snow wall. It was slow going, but it was just a matter of eating away at the internal structure of the ship until they got to key systems…though there was hundreds of miles of ship to push through.

But Roger had them and he knew it. He ran as many cutters up and into the ship as he could, then he set one at each entry point to act as a relay to get signals through the dense Yeg’gor armor while he withdrew the drone fleet. Several ships were lost on the pullout, but without the engine power to pursue the Mach’nel was now helpless to shoot anything other than the nearby evacuated stations as the tiny technological termites inside it continued chewing out tunnels through deck after deck heading for key systems that Star Force knew the location of thanks to the pyramid database, so the cutters wouldn’t be wasting any time aimlessly roaming about.

Roger opened a comm to the Mach’nel as he watched it disconnect from the wrecked station and finish blasting it into pieces before beginning to shoot others as it drifted helpless against the internal naval attack…which was one disadvantage of building a ship that damn big.

“Your fleet has abandoned you to die here, but I am offering you a chance to surrender with whatever crew you have left. If you do not my ships will continue to destroy yours from the inside out, but unlike you we are not committed to wiping out every last one of you…and just so you know, those stations you’re blowing up have already been evacuated.”

It didn’t take long for a holographic image of a J’gar to appear before Roger, with the long-necked behemoth visible from below water with its two large sea wing fins splayed out to the side and its four tentacle-like legs drifting below, all of which had weaponized tips similar to the Hjar’at’s Saroto’kanse’vam, those these soft versions were loosely referred to as Ulu’dart, and the J’gar had three different kinds on its body, making it extremely lethal within the water.

“Why would we surrender?”

“So you don’t die,” Roger said pithily.

“Better a combat death than what you would have in store for us. We will not submit nor surrender this vessel to you, but before you claim it through other means let us know the truth about our betrayers. Wait until the others are gone and you have destroyed our long range communications, but at least give us the knowledge of who has beaten us.”

“We did,” Roger said plainly. “And it’s your arrogance that is keeping you from seeing that.”

“We locked out the planetary defense station’s weapons. Only we or the Oso’lon could unlock them. Which of us was it?” the J’gar asked, curiously not excusing his own race from possible guilt.

“You came here to kill us all, correct?”

“We did.”

“Then why should I care what you want?”

“Why do you offer surrender?”

“Because we’re not the ones in the wrong and I don’t like killing those who are helpless.”

The purple bioluminescent patches along the J’gar’s spine flared at the word ‘helpless.’

“You should not even exist.”

“But we do, and not because of a sponsor. But because the V’kit’no’sat left our ancestors behind on this planet to die. Why, I do not know. There are no records of what transpired. We are here, and out of the chaos that this world was we have rebuilt it with the knowledge you unwittingly left behind. This is our world now, and this empire is our territory. You relinquished claim to it when you left. Go back to your empire and leave us to ours.”

“If you believe that you can defy us, it is you who are arrogant. Tell me, where did you acquire these altered Hadarak?”

“Public records say all I’m going to say, but I can assure you they predate the V’kit’no’sat.”

“And how many do you think you will require to defeat us?”

“We didn’t acquire them to launch an invasion. We acquired them to free them from their imprisonment…and to stop one from a rampage,” Roger added, “but bottom line is we don’t use people. We unite people. And now those Uriti are our friends. I don’t suggest you go and introduce yourself anytime soon.”

“The knowledge to alter Hadarak is beyond the V’kit’no’sat. Where did you get it?”

“We haven’t altered any.”

“Do not think you can mislead me. Your path is obvious now. You will need an armada of them to topple us, thus you must produce more even if you have not yet. If we are to die, tell us so we can know who to curse with our last breath.”

“It doesn’t have to be your last breath. I’m giving you the chance to live.”

“And what would that life look like?”

“I told your buddies they could take you with them in exchange for abandoning half their ships. Apparently they value them more than you.”

“And what deal would you offer us alone?”

Roger rubbed his chin. “That’s a good question. I could tell you that the Oso’lon are behind this and let you go back and cause all hell…but it just isn’t true, so I won’t. We built all this, regardless of whether you can admit it or not.”

“I could if it weren’t for certain aspects that are beyond the records left here. You have gotten outside help from someone.”

“Look, we can continue this conversation forever if you like, but you don’t have an unlimited amount of time here. I know you’re fishing for information but I’m not going to tell you anything you could transmit to the departing fleet.”

“Then you admit to holding something back.”

“Yeah, I do. Good luck guessing it.”

“The traitors will be routed out, one way or another.”

“And what if they’re your superiors?”

“Is that why you are offering us surrender? If so, speak it plainly now.”

“We haven’t had any dealings with the V’kit’no’sat. I’m offering you a chance to live, warrior to warrior…even if you are a giant fish…thing.”

“Come onboard yourself and we will see who is the superior warrior, Zen’zat.”

“Archon,” Roger corrected, “but if your Zen’zat onboard want to surrender, we’ll take them.”

“We will not give you prisoners so easily.”

“So why are we talking then?”

“I had hoped you would be naïve enough to give us more time, but no matter. Your ships cannot destroy the Mach’nel in time,” the J’gar said as the ship began to move slightly faster than Roger assumed it could in towards the planet. “If we are to die, then we die in the water.”

The comm cut off and Roger got a very bad feeling in his gut as he saw their line of movement. Their weapons were still shooting the surrounding stations, including the Tar’vem’jic, but they were on a direct route to the Pacific Ocean.

“Like hell you are,” Roger said, calling his fleet into action and blocking formations for the Ultimas that went racing out to catch up to them. He checked the internal progress of the aptly named cutters inside the Mach’nel, but they weren’t close enough to the remaining gravity drives. He was going to have to move the ship from the outside and there wasn’t much time to make an intercept before it hit the planetary shields and either crumpled on them or…

Just then he saw the Tar’vem’jic switch targets from the orbital stations to the planet, firing on the shielding over the Pacific Ocean and beginning to weaken a section of it prior to the Mach’nel ramming it…but not at kamikaze speed. That much mass was going to be hard to stop, but even if half of it crunched on impact the other half would survive as it crashed down into the ocean. It was too big to become submerged, but it would crush the cities on the sea floor and create such a huge tidal wave that it would have repercussions far from the impact site.

As bad as that was, he knew that if they could get to the ocean the J’gar were going to wreak havoc down there. As large as the Star Force aquatics fleet was, they didn’t have anything to match a J’gar…which made the Elarioni look like bugs in comparison. They were going to go down fighting, and if they could get to the water they would have a significant advantage. Not enough to survive, but enough to kill a lot of people and wreck a lot of equipment before they were eventually taken down.

Roger watched in mind’s eye as the big dot that was the Mach’nel got closer and closer to the planet, accelerating as it went and not bothering to slow down. He calculated that it wouldn’t until it was only a few hundred miles away, then it’d bleed off just enough energy to keep it from destroying itself but retaining enough to punch through the planetary shields. That impact would slow it considerably, but if enough momentum was held coming through…

The trailblazer stopped thinking through the ramifications, for there was no way to know for sure what would happen and it was all moot anyway. He had to stop that ship before it hit the shield and he was thankful he still had some Ultimas nearby to pull on.

When they got into range they targeted only the gravity drives still functional, cutting out their power but leaving so much inertial momentum remaining that they weren’t going to stop it from impact…then in a desperate maneuver Roger lightly rammed half his fleet into the port side of the egg-shaped monster and began pushing with all of their gravity drives in a delicately balanced effort that took his Sav-enhanced mind’s full attention with him having to readjust constantly to keep the ships from crushing themselves and to start to redirect the Mach’nel into a decaying orbit.

At first there wasn’t much movement, but Roger quickly got the stresses under control and upped the gravity drives to the drone hulls’ breaking points as the rest of his ships covered for the Ultimas and blasted away at another section of the Mach’nel’s shields. When that thin barrier finally dropped he sent more drones to make contact with the hull there and add to his maneuvering options…all the while the Mach’nel’s weapons were shooting at whatever drones they could and the Tar’vem’jic was hammering away at the Ultimas.

Roger was going to deal with it shortly, but first he had to get the enemy ship off its collision course with the planet. The numbers were on his side now, but he couldn’t keep losing Ultimas. If the Mach’nel got even one gravity drive back he’d lose this tug of war.

As they angled away from a direct line to the planet they passed within range of several Sentinels that Roger ordered to strike at the Tar’vem’jic. It was still protected by a shield and the long range shots weren’t pinpoint accurate, but eventually they got past the primary shields and were making a few hits against the weapon’s last defense as Roger finally got the damn ship turned enough, missing the atmosphere by a mere 80 miles as the lateral movement kept increasing and the momentarily contained Mach’nel began inching up in altitude while racing through the sky appearing bigger than the moon to those below on the surface looking up.

With the Ultimas holding the Mach’nel in a neutral coast, Roger redirected his hull damaged drones and whatever Sentinels were coming in and out of range to taking out the Tar’vem’jic while the rest physically blocked for the Ultimas with the trailblazer seeing their number ticking down ominously. At the same time the cutters inside destroyed power conduits and generators, blacking out tiny bits of the Mach’nel’s hull and creating safe zones for the drones to move into…with Roger repositioning some of the Ultimas there while maintaining their IDF cones over the huge gravity drives that were essentially spinning their wheels with no gravity effect to push against.

Getting through the Tar’vem’jic’s shields took longer than the other batteries on the ship, due to the fact that it was obviously the primary target and it contained 28 different shield layers, all of which were dropping and raising with precision each time it fired and destroyed another drone. Eventually with no primary shields to cover it and a lot of concentrated fire, Roger’s fleet broke through and put it out of commission, leaving the rest of the weaponry to contend with, but having taken out the main threat to the Ultimas.

Roger breathed a huge sigh of relief when that weapon went down, but he didn’t flinch from the work that followed. The J’gar didn’t contact him again and he didn’t bother to repeat his offer of surrender. If they had a change of mind he’d consider it, but he wasn’t going to bend over backwards to save the people who had come here to kill them. If the J’gar wanted to go out in combat, then that’s what he was going to give them.

As the cutters dug deeper and deeper inside the ship they created pathways like ants digging through the dirt while drones outside chewed on the Yeg’gor armor around the openings, expanding them so larger drones could fit in. Slowly more and more entered the ship while the external defenses were plucked around certain areas, then Roger didn’t even bother taking out the others, knowing not to waste the drones on them as his little army of ants began to snowball inside.

It took another 18 hours of internal chewing before the Mach’nel was truly dead, both in terms of crew and equipment, leaving it in a close orbit around earth and giving the planet’s sky a second, oblong moon to look at while Roger began to organize boarding parties using resources and personnel on Earth. He was going to look for survivors and take prisoners if possible, but he needed to get his people inside and gain as much intel as they could on V’kit’no’sat tech updates and their history past the point where Earth had been abandoned…plus any other secrets they could stumble across.

That said, Roger put it all together and left the internal exploration to others while he raced to get his drone fleet loaded up into jumpships and over to the exiting jumpline the fleeing V’kit’no’sat fleet had taken. He had to get after them and hopefully catch up and kill some of their ships before they could flee Star Force territory. It was clear now that they were out for blood, and letting them regroup with another fleet would only be to Star Force’s disadvantage…not to mention the possibility of that still sizeable fleet hitting a lesser defended target on the way out.

Roger had already sent word ahead, but he needed to stay on their heels to make sure they left at the minimum. As for the other trailblazers, he wished he could go down to Earth and help them, for while the V’kit’no’sat fleeing the crashed ships had successfully been destroyed, they were starting to get reports of Zen’zat saboteurs far from the impact point and moving through the undercity where mechs and aerial craft couldn’t go.

They were going to have to hunt them down on foot, and given some of the reports of how easily they were blowing through security forces, Roger knew they were going to need him and as many other high ranking Archons as they could get to take these guys down quickly, for they’d already destroyed one shield generator complex and a couple of planetary defense batteries...not to mention killing thousands of people along the way.

7

June 13, 3602

Solar System

Earth

Kaalo ran through the Star Force undercity at the head of a group of 8 Zen’zat, all in Brat’mar service, while the others were split up into similar groups and moving through adjacent regions so not all of the 236 surviving Zen’zat would be in the same spot at the same time and make for a tempting target for a pinpoint orbital strike or explosive attack. That said, they were all within half a mile or so of each other and moving with coordination as they approached another shield generator, knowing it was going to be better defended than their previous targets, for Star Force was beginning to anticipate their attacks and reinforce the most important facilities.

But this time the Zen’zat were coming in as low as possible in the infrastructure and forcing the defenders to fight them there in what would be a bad approach normally, for it constricted the Zen’zat’s movements, but close quarters fighting was to their advantage and going in where the enemy expected you was not wise. Kaalo and the other elite Zen’zat leading this attack knew that they were going to die on this planet, but they intended to do the maximum amount of damage prior to that, so they couldn’t get sloppy.

Kaalo’s group came up to a blast door that had been shut across the corridor, stopping them in their tracks and forcing them to go through it. He hated the delay, but allowing the enemy to control their movements by what doors they dropped in their path would have been a mistake, so he and the other 8 Zen’zat started firing into the wall frame outside the door in order to burn through to the key mechanical components that they could see with their Pefbar. Their combined fired took a couple minutes to burn through, then only a few seconds to junk the locking mechanism, freeing the door and allowing two of the Zen’zat to pull it aside with their ample muscle strength…then the 9 of them were through and running again as they approached the first of the emitter chambers where they intended to do their damage.

Odds were Star Force would be able to repair most or all of it before another V’kit’no’sat fleet got here, so the Zen’zat were trying to score as many hits as they could. Unfortunately they didn’t have the explosives needed to do a lot of damage to multiple targets and the frustrating design of the Star Force infrastructure resisted any attempts to get it to overload. That left them as more than vandals now, but they were still able to kill a fair number of people that hadn’t been evacuated out of their path…and those they’d make sure that they couldn’t be revived.

What Kaalo was waiting for was the more elite troops to get to them, and striking at these targets…even if they would be repaired…was a way of drawing them out. At least that’s what Kaalo was looking forward to, though the other Zen’zat had higher ambitions regarding the infrastructure. He wasn’t going to object to that, though now that they were down here he didn’t see a way of doing enough damage to matter in the long term and no one knew of a second fleet nearby to call on for aid, though the forces eliminating the Li’vorkrachnika were the closest. If they could mount enough ships in a short enough amount of time then the damage they were doing would be very important, but that was a slim hope now.

What Kaalo wanted was Rio, but when they encountered enemy infantry ahead he wasn’t so lucky. It was more of their weaker troops with a few Archons sprinkled in. They were carrying heavier weapons and utilizing barricades to delay the Zen’zat while throwing down damage…a decent tactic…but it didn’t stop them as they simply charged ahead, using their Lachka to disrupt the aim of the troops enough for them to get up to the barricades and physically dislodge them.

The defenders retreated back to another set, all the while trying to wear down the Zen’zat’s shields but Kaalo didn’t care. They took the brunt of the attacks up until he spotted explosives hidden behind the next set. He called a halt to their advance, then all 9 of the Zen’zat used their Lachka to pick up one of the barricades and throw it into the explosives, dislodging them from the wall but not detonating them. The Zen’zat then picked up the explosives themselves and eviscerated the components from afar.

Still they didn’t explode, but when thoroughly trashed the Zen’zat moved forward and past the shredded devices, moving up to the last section of barricades and breaking through with the cowardly Star Force troops retreating and giving them access to the emitter area…inside of which was a huge field of equipment rising multiple stories high and connected by catwalks. The Zen’zat were coming in on the lowest level and had solid floor beneath them, with two other Zen’zat teams already here but out of sight. This emitter was 6 miles wide and 4 long with plenty of equipment to trash. It was a pity they could only destroy a small fraction of it, but by now they knew where the soft spots were with Kaalo’s team headed to the nearest capacitor.

No more hidden explosives were found here, for good reason, though Kaalo would have torn this entire place up in order to get at them if he was the defenders. Apparently they weren’t so inclined to come after them just yet, and he hoped that meant higher level troops were nearby and inbound.

When they crossed through an intersection in the emitter ‘city’ they got shot from the flank by the troops that had just been running from them…but this time there were no barricades set up to slow them down and the Zen’zat went after them, sprinting so fast the white-armored troops and their scattering of Archons couldn’t get away this time. Kaalo was going to kill these then head back to the capacitor and continue doing so with as many infantry as they sent his way.

They’d made a mistake getting this close and they were about to pay for it, but as the Star Force troops fired on him while running backwards they crossed another intersection that Kaalo thought might hold an ambush…but there were no minds on either side so he didn’t worry about it until he was close to engaging and flicked on his Pefbar.

He had two strides to ready himself as a Zen’zat-sized body flew out from the left and rammed him. Kaalo managed to duck down and flip the black/gold armored individual over his head and into the far wall a meter past the intersection, but the collision also threw him to the side as well, with another identically armored ‘Knight’ coming in and tackling him.

He’d been aware of the larger Star Force troops, but those had always worn bright white armor. A part of his mind that was free even as he grappled with and easily broke through the headlock attempted on him wondered if they weren’t a higher ranking, for these were stronger than the others he’d faced, but the Jumat blast that followed succinctly ended that line of thought.

Kaalo found himself slammed into the wall, off of which he pushed and punched both Knights in sequence, delivering Dre’mo’don blasts on the end of each as he saw the other Zen’zat fighting with what looked like at least a dozen of these Knights as the retreating troops held their ground and began sniping where able.

Kaalo grabbed one of the Knights and hauled him into the intersection where he kicked another behind the turn and out of the firing zone. The Zen’zat punched the one he held across the width of the corridor where another Zen’zat hit him in the back and knocked him to the ground…only to be blown off his feet by another Jumat blast.

Kaalo wobbled as a Fornax blast hit him…then suddenly he was on the ground with his helmet getting punched by a series of furious blows that were draining far too much shield energy.

The Zen’zat tried to pry the Knight off, but he had to use three different moves to do it, then when he threw him over his head and down the corridor another Knight jumped on top of him. Kaalo used a Lachka wall to knock him askew before he landed, but a Lachka field from behind pulled Kaalo backwards on his feet and off balance before he surged his Rentar and broke it. He let himself fall backwards into a roll that he used to get to his feet…where he saw the other Knight standing there waiting for him. Unlike the others he wore totally black armor without any of their gold marks, and as frustrated as Kaalo already was by these Knights with Archon powers, this one pulled out a cylinder from a slot on his back that extended into a long, black stick much like Rio had used the last time they met.

Then the Knight had the gall to wave Kaalo forward even as everyone else behind them was fighting each other furiously with bodies flying into walls left and right as these Knights were showing themselves to be an even match for the Zen’zat.

Kaalo didn’t bother to respond other than to run three steps ahead then bring both arms up and fire a double Dre’mo’don blast into the Black Knight, but a bioshield briefly popped up and absorbed both of them as the sword tip flashed around in a twirl and came up from low, batting one of Kaalo’s arms away as he continued to fire blasts until he was within striking range…then the Zen’zat punched into the chest plate with his free arm only to have the Black Knight’s hand grab him by the wrist so he couldn’t recoil.

The equally large man twisted backwards and pulled Kaalo with him as he pooled and released a quick Jumat blast that threw the Zen’zat across the corridor and into the wall…where he hit a split second before that black sword whipped around and slashed across Kaalo’s head, knocking him to the side with a hint of disorientation. A fist followed and he went to the ground, suddenly feeling his face numb up.

Not knowing what was happening, he rolled away and disengaged for a few strides, forcing the Black Knight to follow him and give Kaalo a chance to think…which was when he realized his shields had popped on his helmet with that sword slash. The previous pummeling must have done it, for the rest of his shields were reforming but the matrix over his helmet wasn’t. Typically they all snapped on and off at the same time, but in case of massive overload they’d disconnect so not to drop the entire matrix through inefficient transfer power.

Kaalo didn’t need to run through the specifics of what was happening. All he needed to know was the Black Knight was exclusively targeting his head in order to break through the shields there and deliver some type of stun charge.

He didn’t have time to think beyond that as Kaalo took the next sword slash on his right arm to keep it off his head while simultaneously putting another shot from his left into his attacker’s chest. Then what he’d feared previously happened as his attacker dropped an Ubven field on top of him, freezing him and that annoying sword in place.

The Black Knight let it go, suspended in the air by the same field, as his was free to move forward. Kaalo pulsed his Rentar, knowing that would help eat through the Lachka field restrains faster but the field was so dense he was going to be vulnerable for a moment and the Black Knight took advantage of it by beating him in the head again with multiple punches. When his fledgling shields there failed, each subsequent punch delivered a numbing blast that left Kaalo nearly unconscious when the Ubven field finally dissipated.

The Zen’zat fell to the ground as his armor began sucking away the stun energy, but he was so disoriented that all he could do was throw up a Lachka wall and bioshield over top himself in a hasty defense, the former of which the Black Knight used his Rentar to get through, then his fists to pound into the bioshield until it finally snapped.

Kaalo managed to kick up into his side and throw the Black Knight off him before he could land another punch, then knowing that he had to get some distance to recharge his shields he took off running down the corridor opposite the other Zen’zat, firing back on the Black Knight as he did so…but his counterpart was too fast for him to backtrack against, forcing Kaalo to stop firing and run at top speed to evade him.

Seeing him in his Pefbar he realized this Black Knight was faster than he expected, but not as fast as him…but he did reach out and try to trip Kaalo with his Lachka. The Zen’zat stumbled for a step before a Rentar wash over his legs stopped it from happening again, but a Fornax blast flew into him at that same moment. He stumbled into the wall as he threw his own Fornax blast back, forcing himself to keep running.

His pursuer didn’t relent, and as Kaalo got further and further away from the other fight he sensed another group of Zen’zat ahead and ran towards them. They were from the Oso’lon and their leader was even more powerful than Kaalo…plus they’d outnumber this Black Knight if he could get him to follow.

The Jumat blast that hit him in the back complicated that, as did the Lachka field throw directly in front of him. Flinching against the Jumat and trying to stay on his feet as he was propelled forward, Kaalo didn’t have time to turn on his Rentar and he smashed into the invisible wall, bouncing backward and allowing the Black Knight to catch up.

Angry beyond belief, Kaalo turned and swung without thinking, catching his opponent slightly off guard in the leg and spinning him to the ground with the hit. Kaalo took the opportunity and jumped on top of him, trying to get him into a grapple hold as the other Zen’zat were racing to his position in response to his mental summons.

The Black Knight was strong, but not as strong as Kaalo. He couldn’t work his way free with muscle strength alone and the Zen’zat was prepared for when the next Jumat blast came. It knocked him up half a meter, but his grip held firm and he landed back on the Black Knight again…but the warrior had managed to get a knee up into his torso, and from it he was able to, after a few seconds of rapid maneuvers, kick Kaalo off him.

Dre’mo’don blasts came down the hallway and hit the Black Knight’s shields from the approaching Zen’zat, prompting him to run into Kaalo and try to get by him. Holding his ground, Kaalo set himself for another Jumat blast only to get pulled from behind with Lachka field that he quickly dissipated…then a Fornax blast to the face followed by a Jumat disrupted him enough that the Black Knight was able to punch his helmet again, twisting his neck to the side even as Kaalo fired at pointblank range with his left Dre’mo’don.

The next thing Kaalo saw was the ground and the Black Knight sprinting away from him as more Dre’mo’don filled the air and took down his shield…then he was moving too fast to target and disappeared around a corner.

Kaalo got to his feet and began to pursue slow enough for the 12 Zen’zat behind him to catch up, then they all made their way towards the location of Kaalo’s Zen’zat that he’d gotten peeled away from…and of whom there were only 5 remaining as he reached out to do a mental check, for 3 of their icons on his sensors were not moving.

8

Taylor-1007 bounced off a wall, propelling herself further down the airless corridor on the partially destroyed Brat’mar ship until she passed into a working gravity field and fell to the floor awkwardly…but that didn’t matter. The ViLord picked herself up and walked forward as the members of her boarding party behind her made more gentle landings. The group moved through damaged corridors scanning ahead with their Ikrid and picking up some minds, confirming that there were survivors onboard.

Taylor wasn’t here for them though, and when her team eventually got to an emergency force field they passed through into atmosphere and immediately got the smell of burnt flesh, for not far ahead there was half of a Brat’mar lying next to a huge bulkhead that had fallen down through the ceiling, pinning it to the ground with the other half of its body on the far side. There was no mind within it and Taylor’s team bypassed the two pieces of fresh corpse as they moved onward and scanning furiously. The Na’shor was a huge ship, but thanks to the schematics in the pyramid they knew there were only a few places available to look for the prisoners that had been taken onboard it at the Ribbon.

Most of those places had been destroyed in the battle, but two should have been intact within the debris. The first prison area they came across was empty, both of minds and bodies, but a Brat’mar that had not yet been injured was approaching them from another of the huge corridors though not yet in view.

“Not today, people,” Taylor said, pointing them to a Zen’zat access point in the wall. A few members of her mostly Archon team ran over to it and with some prying got the warped door open. The team filed inside, but as Taylor was the last one in and the Brat’mar came into view for a second she almost ran into the debris just inside the frame, having to duck down and go right…with the left side branch having been completely blocked off.

Taking up position at the back of the line, Taylor led the others through what access ways were viable and out through the larger ones as needed…all the time with the Brat’mar trying to follow. Eventually they got to the other prison area, finding that battle damage had destroyed half of it, but fortunately also blocked the Brat’mar from getting close. The Archons were able to find ways to get through the debris, but what they found inside made several of them gag as they fought not to throw up inside their helmets.

There were 14 Human prisoners here…spread out into 70 pieces. Every one of them had both arms and legs torn off, leaving their helpless torsos on the ground to bleed out. Taylor wasn’t sensing any minds remaining here, but two of the bodies were still warm as she switched to infrared on her HUD. That meant those had died last and that this barbarism hadn’t occurred too long ago.

“Gordon,” she said, pointing to one of the limbless torsos. “Try him.”

The Archon responded by jumping across the field of body parts until he got up next to the one Taylor had tagged. He pulled out a regenerator from his pack, a V’kit’no’sat model, not one of the less powerful Star Force knockoffs, and placed it on the man’s head. He wore a white uniform with silver stripes over the shoulders that ended where the limbs had been ripped off, indicating he was an Archon Acolyte.

Taylor didn’t expect for the Kich’a’kat to respond, but she was going to try anyway. When it lay dormant over top the body she pointed to the other one with ranger markings and Gordon moved to him.

All of her team flinched when the regenerator activated and sunk in its tendrils to the body. It took a long time, but eventually a mental signature returned and Taylor ran up beside the survivor.

“We keep him unconscious,” she said as the torn arm and leg sockets began to seal over, though with bone fragments still sticking out here and there. Gordon pulled another device out of his pack and applied it to the ranger’s head, insuring that he wouldn’t feel or sense anything until they got him back to a medical station where they could regrow his lost body parts. Right now all the Regenerator could do was patch him up enough to keep him alive, and when it finally disconnected he was little more than a living piece of cargo.

“Can we reattach his limbs?” Gordon wondered.

“He’s not walking out of here even if we can. You and Brian carry him out and be ready to throw a Rentar field over him, otherwise someone could twist his neck off from the other side of a wall.”

“You going after that Brat’mar?”

“I’d like to, but it’s too risky. I’m more worried about Zen’zat,” she said as Gordon pulled an envirosuit out of his pack and began putting the limbless Archon into it so he could survive the trip through the airless sections of wreckage. “Get him out.”

“Keep them off us.”

“We will,” she promised, then began giving members of her team individual waypoints as she organized a skirmisher perimeter around the moving cargo, making sure they had enough lead to detect either Brat’mar or Zen’zat that might be closing on them.

The big one kept hounding them, and when it had figured out they were heading back the way they came it went to block their path, hoping to force them into a fight as one Zen’zat mind eventually joined it.

“Damn it.”

“We have to fight them,” a mage pointed out.

“We’re not losing anyone on a rescue mission.”

“What choice do we have?”

“When you’re Clan Saber, that’s obvious,” she said, motioning them back a ways to a specific room that appeared mostly intact. The ViLord had them barricade themselves inside with as much debris as they could pry loose from nearby, but the Zen’zat wasn’t coming in after them. It was staying with the Brat’mar…then another Brat’mar mind popped into her mental range, though this one was screaming with pain and probably injured.

Taylor sent out a battlemeld ping to two of the other Archons, then used their Neritu to boost her own range. She sensed a few more minds out there, all of which were moving in their direction. Given that their ship was dead in space, the only fight they had left was with the boarders and it seemed they were eager to engage.

Hear me, V’kit’no’sat, she said telepathically, putting enough power behind it that hopefully everyone on the ship would hear her even if she couldn’t sense their position. You have this one chance to live. Surrender now and you will not be killed or tortured. You will be taken prisoner as we have done with others throughout our history. You have 1 minute to respond, after which we will kill you. Either way, make your choice and live with it.

Taylor didn’t want to take them prisoner after witnessing what they’d done to the Human prisoners, but to be fair you couldn’t judge the entire crew against what could have been the actions of just one individual…though right now she really wanted to.

She watched the time tick down with no response coming, either telepathically or over comms. When a minute elapsed she was glad. They’d been given a chance to surrender, and that was all these bastards were going to get.

“Requesting pinpoint bombardment,” she said to the Archon in control of the recovery fleet who was standing in a nexus onboard a jumpship not too far away. “We have recovered one prisoner but are cut off from our entry route by surviving crew. They have refused to surrender, so please blow away the rest of the ship that we’re not standing in.”

“How secure are you?” Varn-1633 asked.

“We have a room to ourselves and in no danger of decompression. The prisoner is buttoned up, but he has no limbs. They tore them off everyone and we were lucky the regenerator brought him back. He needs to get to a medical bay ASAP.”

“And you want me to blow you an entry path for a dropship?”

“Yes. I know it can be done.”

“Standby. This is going to take some planning. How critical is he?”

“Unconscious and alive. We’ve got the regenerator on his body in case he dips again, but so far it hasn’t reactivated. I think we’ve got a little time, but don’t push it.”

“Link up your armor and bioshields when I give the word…and cross your fingers.”

“It’ll work, just shoot straight and have our dropship standing by at a safe range.”

“Estimate 6 minutes.”

“Copy that,” Taylor said, having let everyone else in on that comm. “Put him in the center then huddle up. Lock grip points to each other and the floor. Check that…make it the floor and wall. Move to that corner.”

The team quickly repositioned and began laying down their own armor suits as a secondary wall against which they placed the single envirosuit, then another layer of Archons and Knights went over it, with two of their physical shields covering the outside of their little nook as they began locking each other in place to form as solid of a mass as they could.

“Fleet is ready. Give the word when you want us to begin.”

Taylor sent a 30 second countdown to the jumpship as well as the rest of her team so they all knew when the firestorm would be incoming. When the timer reached 12 seconds she extended a battlemeld prompt to the 19 individuals that were capable of sharing it, knowing that was going to be a lot of headache to manage, but they might need their combined bioshields.

Their minds interlinked and the weight of all those connections dropped onto Taylor like a load of bricks, but she and the others held up and created a massive bioshield around the group far stronger than 19 individual bioshields would have been. They held the turtle-like position even as the effort began to get tedious…but the countdown reached 0 quick enough and dull thuds started to be heard around them coming from a distance.

Taylor and the others focused on nothing but maintaining their Cerden as the explosions got louder and the air suddenly got sucked out of the room. The group stayed put, attached to the wall and floor through their armor’s grip points, then blasts of light so bright their HUDs had to block them out began showing through the doorway as the rumbles elevated to the level of an earthquake…eventually snapping the floor beneath them and sending it spinning.

The group held on to their wall nook and each other as the firestorm continued without the quakes, for their bit of ship had been blown apart from the rest. Taylor lost track of time mentally as she strained to maintain the bioshield link along with the rest of the others…with one of the padawans breaking first. That reduced the battlemeld to 18, making it a touch easier, and the rest of them were able to maintain the Cerden up until Varn called back.

“Looks like you guys are still in one piece. We’ve got some road plowing to do to get to you, but the dropship is on its way and should get to you within 15 minutes at max.”

“Thank you,” Taylor said as they released their battlemeld links but not their physical grips on one another and the room that now had a nasty gash across the ceiling that was showing a mix of debris and stars beyond as they continued to spin at a rate of about 4 rotations per minute.

Taylor double checked the oxygen levels of her team, seeing that they all had at least 40 minutes remaining thanks to the backup tanks they’d been carrying for the boarding phase, and the envirosuit had also been so equipped. So long as there wasn’t a long delay, they were going to make it out.

“Status of the Viks on the ship?”

“There’s no ship left, Taylor,” he told her, with the Archon belatedly adjusting her battlemap so she could pick up the sensor feeds from the ships outside and saw that the Na’shor was gratifyingly now in tiny pieces. He must have had all the nearby drones firing on it rather than the surgical strike she’d had in mind.

“Good. Those guys deserved to die.”

“Any injuries?”

“No, we’re all good…and our friend is hanging on for now. Hurry it up though.”

“There he is,” Kaalo said to the Zen’zat fighting beside him as a trio of Archons came running into the fight leading many others. “That’s their Rio.”

“We take him together,” Garso said. “We need to peel him off. Tako, Nave.”

“Understood,” the Oso’lon Zen’zat said as they pulled back from their positions sniping enemy troops behind the melee lines and came running up to join the two elite Zen’zat.

“Take him right,” Garso said, then the four of them were running towards the approaching Archons with a dozen or so Zen’zat ahead of them already beginning to exchange weaponsfire. Garso put a shot into a set of black/gold armor that was lying on the ground and trying to get back up, as did Kaalo, but the pair didn’t stick around to finish him off. They had a bigger target to take down.

The Zen’zat ahead of them got blown apart by a Jumat blast, but that only helped to clear the path for the sprinting pair as they shot through the gap and went directly for Rio…with Garso sending his own Jumat blast into the Archon beside their target. Both of the Zen’zat got hit by a Fornax field, but expecting it they were able to work their way through and up to Rio with both of them pulling at him with their Lachka.

He broke free of it as the Fornax field continued to persist, but Garso got within grappling range only to be knocked aside by the Archon with the doublebladed stick. Kaalo, however, was able to follow up and grab Rio by the wrist…then drag him to the right into a gap in the emitter equipment where he spun in place and threw the Archon down the side corridor.

Tako and Nave dove in and tackled other Archons as Garso followed Kaalo after Rio, with the stronger Zen’zat telepathically telling Kaalo to duck, over which he threw another Jumat blast that knocked Rio even further down the corridor and away from the others.

Rio saw what was happening and decided to draw the pair off, running for a few steps then started to fly down the hallway so they would chase him, but a mixed assault of Lachka and Fornax slowed him enough that Garso was able to catch up to him…just as Rio threw a Jumat blast back into his face.

The Zen’zat had been expecting that and let it happen, using himself as a pivot point as he grabbed Kaalo with his Lachka and threw the other Zen’zat forward into Rio.

Kaalo grabbed hold of him and dragged the Archon to the ground, then it took several Jumat blasts to knock him off, at which time Garso had caught up and began punching into Rio’s bioshield so fast it made Kaalo’s speed look slow.

An attempt at a Lachka wall pull was blocked by Rio’s Rentar, then the Archon fired his bulky arm weapon at close range, hitting Garso as the Zen’zat merely returned fire with both of his weapons. They traded energy blasts for a couple of seconds, then Rio pulled back again, flying down the hall as the two Zen’zat sprinted after him.

But when the Garso tried another Lachka wall Rio reversed direction and flew right into the Zen’zat’s chest, catching him momentarily off guard, but Kaalo turned and punched Rio into the sidewall, keeping him from slipping past them as the two Zen’zat spun and began firing down on him.

Rio dropped his Ubven field and essentially froze them in place, though the energy blasts continued to rain down until he scooted out from under them, running back the way they’d come as Sara and Ethan sprinted towards him.

“We have to take these quick,” Ethan said as he and Sara reached out with a battlemeld prompt. “There are too many strong Zen’zat back there.”

“This is our old friend and his stronger brother,” Rio cautioned.

“We can take them,” Sara said as the Zen’zat sprinted towards them. “As a trio.”

“The new one has Jumat.”

“Don’t care,” Sara said icily. “They’re going down.”

“Let’s do it,” Ethan agreed, with all three trailblazers linking together and throwing a Jumatran blast into the two Zen’zat and knocking them back more than a dozen meters with the smaller Humans sprinting after them and Sara pulling out her last death stick as the other two fired their weapons…Rio his mauler gauntlet and Ethan a heavy pistol.

Then Rio ran up an invisible stairway of Lachka steps using their battlemeld Qwe’kal until he was overtop the Zen’zat heads as a distraction, with the stronger one using his Jumat to blast Rio into the ceiling as Ethan threw Sara forward and she jammed her death stick into the Zen’zat’s chest.

9

“Steady!” the medtech yelled as the ranger woke violently, jerking upright and flailing on the bed in the medbay. “Steady! You’re safe, you’re safe!”

The ranger, breathing heavily, looked around frantically as he balled his fists…then he looked down at his arms and legs as a horrific expression crossed his already pained face.

“We regenerated your lost limbs,” the medtech said as a few others stood nearby. “You’re safe now.”

The ranger slid his legs over the edge of the table and stood up as he constantly clenched and unclenched his fists. He walked two steps then collapsed to the floor, but not out of weakness. He let himself fall to his knees as he continued to look at his hands and one of the medtechs came up and gently grabbed his shoulders.

“It’s over. You’re safe.”

“They…” he said, his voice breaking horribly as so many emotions swirled through him. “They ripped us apart. We couldn’t…we couldn’t stop them.”

“You’re safe now. A rescue team pulled you off their damaged ship.”

“Damaged?”

“There was a fight over Earth. We won.”

“What about the other prisoners?”

The medtech shook his head, but the ranger couldn’t see it from where he stood halfway beside and behind the man.

“You’re the only survivor they brought back.”

The medtech regretted saying that immediately as the ranger let out a scream of pain and anger that sent chills through everyone in the room, then he stood up, turned, and punched down into the medical bed so hard that everyone could hear the snap of the bone in his hand…in addition to the huge dent he put in the frame.

The ranger didn’t stop there though, for he punched with both arms several times, pummeling the bed until it broke in half and he continued to drive it down into the floor until his energy surge finally snapped and fell back to his knees with two bloody fists unclenching at his sides.

He didn’t say anything else and the medtechs gave him his space for several minutes before he finally sat back on the floor, pulled his knees up to his chest, and began to cry a river of silent tears.

The medtechs exchanged glances, not sure if they should try and heal his hands or just wait out this backlash. Meanwhile both tears and blood dripped onto the carpet while the Archon sat there trying to work through the horrors he’d just lived through.

Sara was knocked back against the wall, but before her feet could fall down to hit the floor Garso moved in and punched her in the chest, cracking an armor plate with an audible snap before she knocked him back half a foot with a hasty Jumat blast from her left hand. When her feet did hit the floor a knee from the Zen’zat knocked her back up into the air again…then a heavy punch from above drilled her down into the ground like a yoyo.

She threw up a Fornax field and tried to crawl away, but Garso got a foot on her arm as he staggered and pinned her in place, firing four shots into the Archon with another 3 missing before Sara jumped up and into the Zen’zat’s knees, knocking him off his feet and dumping him to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his legs.

As he fell Rio came in and fired his mauler down into the shieldless armor on the Zen’zat’s wide chest, melting an already damaged spot enough that a bit got through to his skin, the pain of which resulted in Rio being blasted back by a Jumat orb that nearly knocked Sara off his legs, though a quick kick finished the job, allowing Garso to get back on his feet. Rio shot him again with the mauler, but a weak bioshield caught most of it, leaving the rest to get through and hit a raised arm.

Ethan came flying into view, but not under his own power. Following him, Kaalo redirected towards Sara as Garso did the same. She balled up with her own bioshield as both Zen’zat shot her, then tried to knock them back with a Jumat blast. She succeeded with Kaalo but barely managed to move Garso. That Zen’zat got up on her with a couple more steps even as he threw a Lachka wall back at Rio, who was taking the opportunity to land a couple more mauler hits into the Zen’zat’s back.

Garso chose to take them in exchange for focusing on the most damaged of the Archons. He attacked her with a Fornax blast, Lachka field, and even a small Jumat blast to allow him to get into grapple range, then he nearly ripped her right arm off as he pulled it back and tore the pistol out of her hand. Meanwhile Kaalo dove back in and hammered her exposed chest as the other Zen’zat held her in place.

Ethan and Rio reacted instantly, and after only a moment of damage dealing the Zen’zat had to turn their attention to them…but when they released Sara she dropped to the ground in a heap, unmoving and with a small hole in her chest armor where the punches and Dre’mo’don blasts had finally got through.

The two trailblazers felt the damage to Sara then her part of the battlemeld link dropped out, leaving only the two of them against the Zen’zat…but the more skilled of the duo was hurt himself, with multiple holes in both his chest and back armor. Ethan and Rio made the split second decision to go after him, but not together. Ethan moved towards the other Zen’zat and pushed him back with a series of psionics that led up to a tackle/shove that got both of them away from Rio and Garso.

The Archon’s shields took three more Dre’mo’don blasts, with the third dropping them again and doing a bit of damage, but Rio threw up a bioshield that caught the fourth…then he was in close range to the larger Zen’zat, punching him in the gut then pulling back both hands slightly as Garso tried to wrap him up in a grapple hold, but the Jumat energy pooling in Rio’s palms was released at just the right moment and it blew the larger man back out of arms reach.

Rio followed it with two more mauler shots that the Zen’zat took as he sprinted towards the Archon, who backpedaled a step only to be knocked askew by the Zen’zat’s own Jumat blast…weak as it was now from fatigue. It did succeed in off balancing Rio enough that Garso got to him and grabbed his wrist that held the mauler. Rio fired it into his chest, scoring another damaging hit as a bit of the energy hit a hole, but the Zen’zat held on and twisted it to the side underneath his armpit where the next shot missed.

Garso held hit there, pinned, as he brought his other arm around and, instead of shooting Rio in the head or torso, shot the weapon multiple times as Rio tried to kick and pry himself loose…but the Zen’zat was too strong. Flailing around trying to get a breakaway and throwing every psionic at him that he could, Rio finally was able to slip his arm free and get clear, leaving the Zen’zat staggering a bit and not chasing after him.

Rio raised his arm up to fire the mauler again, but half the discharge that resulted only finished the destruction of the weapon with an internal explosion that popped out debris amidst a blue flame. The Zen’zat looked at him and took his time walking forward, knowing that the Archon’s primary damage threat to him was now gone.

Rio disconnected the mauler, dropping the junk to the ground and lightening up his arm considerably. He pulled Sara’s pistol over to him from where it had been knocked to the ground, but a Rentar blast from Garso dropped it halfway there. Rio ran for it and the Zen’zat responded in kind, but at the last moment Rio abandoned his pursuit of it and dove headfirst into Garso, hitting him in the pelvis and driving him back as he hammered his knees from behind trying to crumple his legs.

It didn’t work as well as intended, and the Zen’zat brought down a double fisted overhead blow onto Rio’s back that smashed the Archon flat to the ground…then he was kicked into the wall with the Zen’zat following a split second later ready to deliver another heavy punch. Rather than trying to dodge it Rio let him come, putting up as much of a bioshield as he could and diminishing the impact almost entirely, but the Dre’mo’don blast that came in next hit his armor and nearly melted through in an already damaged spot that he knew the Zen’zat was aiming for.

Rio did something stupid next, and rather than trying to peel the Zen’zat off him went in even closer, getting inside his firing range but allowing Garso to wrap him up in another grapple that was to the Zen’zat’s advantage given the strength and size difference between the two. And what was even more stupid was the fact that Rio held onto him, locking their torsos against one another and leaving the Archon looking at Garso’s chin through his faceplate.

“That was unwise,” the Zen’zat said as he started squeezing Rio so hard his damaged armor plates began to flex under the strain.

“Was it?” Rio asked as his right hand was also being crushed in between both men’s torsos…but it was palm out and not accidentally covering the largest hole in the Zen’zat’s armor. Rio had walked into the crushing trap in order to deliver the killing blow as the armor over his right palm struggled to retract under the pressure, then the skin of his palm was bloodied against the ragged edge of the hole as the orifice in his hand split apart slightly.

Holding onto the Zen’zat’s back so he couldn’t escape, Rio locked onto him with as much strength as he could muster along with a partial Ubven drop, then used his Choratrik to send a stream of plasma through the hole in Garso’s armor and straight into the Zen’zat’s chest.

The Zen’zat released his hold on Rio instantly, but the Archon held tight as the Ubven field kept the larger opponent from flipping him around or bucking him off in any other wild flails as the plasma stream continued to flow, burning through his ribs, lung, and eventually all the way through to the backside armor.

Rio released the attack a moment later as the Ubven quickly dissipated, then he kicked the Zen’zat over as if he was felling a tree as he turned and ran towards where Ethan was getting his ass kicked by Kaalo as he stalled for time.

Sara’s pistol flew into Rio’s now fully armored hand and he fired a pair of shots into the Zen’zat as the trailblazer yanked Ethan back his way via a Bataf conduit, seeing his peer’s armor broken and melted in multiple spots, but without any major holes in it.

He’s mine, Rio said telepathically while instructing Ethan to play limited support from now on via numerous tactics that they communicated back and forth to each other through the battlemeld. It was also clear that Ethan was wearing out and couldn’t stand toe to toe with this Zen’zat anymore, but he didn’t have to. He’d taken the hits so Rio could finish off the other one. Now it was time to double team and finish this guy, though Rio was going to have to carry the bulk of the fight…and that suited him just fine.

With a bit of a push from Ethan, Rio flew forward and impacted with Kaalo as the Zen’zat threw several Dre’mo’don blasts their way, deciding to make like a turret and just blanket the two enemies with weaponsfire. That was a fair tactic considering Rio’s primary weapon was toast and most of their auxiliaries were empty or destroyed, but pulling on what little strength Ethan had, the pair put up a bioshield ahead of Rio that let him get close enough to go hand to hand without taking a lot of damage up to that point.

Kaalo responded in kind, punching and kicking in a flurry of exchanges that Rio couldn’t match. He had to fight defensively and keep giving up a step here or there, but that was the plan as he brought him back closer and closer to Ethan.

When the Zen’zat got within the predetermined range Ethan sprinted forward, running past their opponent as he pulled Sara’s pistol off the ground where Rio had dropped it and towards his hand. As expected the Zen’zat blocked the weapon grab with his Rentar…but that was just a feint on the part of the Archons, for when Ethan ran past he dragged a Trielo orb into the Zen’zat.

The psionic was invisible, and unlike the Lew energy ribbon that stretched between two individuals, the Trielo was a single orb that floated on another such ribbon…meaning that they had to aim the collision precisely in addition to charging it thoroughly beforehand. But when Ethan ran past and dragged that ribbon through the Zen’zat at precisely the right location a knot of stun energy was delivered into his body, almost entirely bypassing his armor, and making Kaalo punch drunk rather than dropping him unconscious.

But for Rio that distinction didn’t matter, for he suddenly had the advantage in the hand to hand fight and started driving him back as the Zen’zat struggled just to defend himself. Ethan reversed directions and pulled Sara’s pistol to him, shooting Kaalo in the back several times before he awkwardly twirled around to use his arms to block some shots as his armor tried to soak away the stun energy and return his body to normal.

Before that could happen Rio flew up a meter into the air and did a spin kick into the Zen’zat’s head that sent him into the wall so disoriented he fell on impact, then Ethan stood over him pouring shots into his armor and opening up a wound on his back that shocked the Zen’zat into a mad dash. He rammed into Rio and dragged him to the ground, then straddled the Archon’s torso punching him in the face and chest repeatedly while throwing Dre’mo’don blasts after each hit.

Rio was caught and tried to wiggle free, then both he and Ethan combined what little strength they had and put a bioshield over Rio’s head while letting the rest of his armor absorb the shots as it melted with each. The trailblazer readied another Jumat blast to knock him off, but waited a split second as Ethan just unloaded into Kaalo’s back with the Zen’zat not even seeming to care. Rio could even feel his rage spilling out through his telepathy as he pounded Rio relentlessly.

Had Ethan not been there Rio would have been in trouble, not knowing if he could have peeled him off or not, but just before he was going to have to resort to that in order to keep his chest armor from being penetrated the Zen’zat threw his last punch/shot and tipped forward, falling onto Rio…but without any muscle behind him the trailblazer easily rolled him to the side and extricated himself from the heavy body that was smoking from the hole Ethan had shot through his armor and eventually his heart.

“That was close,” Ethan said as he ran past Rio and over to where Sara was still laying on the ground, but they could both feel her mind still there.

Rio looked down at his chest armor, feeling the residual heat as nearly all of it had been melted away, leaving him with a very thin protective layer that wouldn’t hold up to more than a couple Dre’mo’don shots.

Go, Sara said telepathically while she was still laying on the ground with Ethan now kneeling over her. I’m healing. Just make sure these two are dead, then go help the others.

“Rio?”

“I got them,” the trailblazer said, stepping over to the first Zen’zat while removing his left glove. He knelt down and put another stream of plasma through the hole in the armor while touching a bit of the gore inside. It took him a moment to make a connection, from which he confirmed the Zen’zat was dead and not coming back on his own merits.

Rio got up and ran over to where Kaalo was laying as Ethan took off back in the direction of the main fight that was still ongoing. He rolled the Zen’zat over and saw the piece of work Ethan had done to his back, then touched inside the cavity to connect to what was left of that Zen’zat as well. He could have tried to heal him, but with literally no heart remaining it would have been a tall order to save the Zen’zat…not that Ethan even thought about trying, but it meant that there was no way this one was going to get back up and potentially hurt Sara.

“Told you I’d kill you with friends,” Rio said to the still smoking corpse as he didn’t waste any time and took off running past Sara and back towards the fight where he could feel hundreds of minds involved, though a few less than there had been before the trio of trailblazers had split off to take these two down.

As he approached he got a battlemeld prompt from Ethan and two other ViLords, linking up with them and realizing from their senses that another very powerful set of Zen’zat were still in play, but they hadn’t paired up with each other and were instead working with their own escorts as Vermaire was tangling with one of them.

The quartet of Archons decided to let him play with his new friend while they went after the closest badass they could find, knowing that both trailblazers had weakened armor and fatigued psionics, and that it was going to take a team effort to take the rest of these guys down, but what Rio quickly realized was the fact that the Arc Knights could stand up against the Zen’zat well enough on their own and especially in groups, but if they took the brunt of the attack then the Archons could kill the Zen’zat much easier.

Muscle and mass did count for a lot, and the strategies flowing through the battlemeld and telepathy between all those involved allowed for latecomers like Rio to learn very fast how to effectively fight these guys…and having a backup secret psionic that the V’kit’no’sat had probably never seen before didn’t hurt either.

With his quartet they made their way past a sparring Zen’zat and Arc Knight and helped him kill his opponent, then Rio conscripted the big guy into their battlemeld, making it a 5-way and bringing him up to speed on the tactics they wanted to use…after which the Arc Knight took the lead and the group pushed their way through the widespread brawl, throwing a little help in here and there as they went hunting for the biggest threats left in the fight.

10

When Rio’s group got back into the fight they used a combination of telepathy and battlemap to identify where the strongest Zen’zat were and went after arguable the strongest first. Both trailblazers had partial shields back when they came across a trio of Zen’zat and a pile of Star Force bodies as the enemy added another Arc Knight to their count, but a Jumatran from Rio’s group knocked all three down as their Arc Knight ran forward and dove onto the one in the middle, pinning him to the ground for a couple of extra seconds and giving the others time to get up to them.

No one had much left in the way of weaponry, but reinforcements were arriving constantly and those Regulars that were no match for the Zen’zat were passing weapons to those fighting while establishing and strengthening a very wide perimeter around the combat, blocking off corridors and ringing the Zen’zat in. If one tried to flee they’d have to push through a wall of weaponsfire, but the Commandos, Knights, and lower ranking Archons didn’t close in, wisely allowing those with the high skills to handle the fight and, honestly, so they didn’t get in the way.

But some of their weapons eventually got passed up to Rio’s group, with the two ViLords having taken fresh rifles that they used to attack one of the three Zen’zat exclusively while Ethan and Rio dove past the trio on the sides dragging a Lew conduit through them and hitting the heads of the two standing up. Both of them wobbled as the mental disruption took place, then the trailblazers warned the Knight as they used their Hapra and emitted such a strong combined Fornax field that it caught all six of them in it.

Had the Knight participated he would have been immune, but he was too busy throwing punches and wresting with the Zen’zat on the ground and got hit by it too. All four of them dropped twitching for a moment, but then the Arc Knight was tossed aside as a wobbly Zen’zat rose up and shot Rio with both Dre’mo’don’s.

He’s got Snu, Ethan commented as the trailblazer threw a weak Jumat into the Zen’zat, knocking his arms askew and causing a few shots to miss Rio as they both scrambled out of the way as the two ViLords continued pouring rifle shots into the Zen’zat on the left.

The standing Zen’zat reached down and picked up the Arc Knight by the leg, throwing him back into the line of fire towards the ViLords, who ceased their shots until their line of sight cleared, but the Zen’zat followed the flying body and sprinted towards them. He weathered a few more shots with his bioshield, then when he was only a step away he threw his own Jumat blast out either side of his body, knocking both Archons away from him and into the walls. He turned and attacked the one on the left, delivering body blows so fast that he broke through the ViLord’s shields in less than two seconds.

The armor damage that followed was targeted to melted points from previous fights and the Zen’zat managed to get two shots through into his chest before he turned and punched Rio out of the air as he flew towards him. The ViLord dropped to the ground as the other shot him at close range, then the Zen’zat took after her, spinning around twice in a familiar twirl that would have ended with a wicked cross if Rio hadn’t throw him off with a Jumat blast that led to a fist in the wall, denting it as the ViLord scrambled out of the way.

Two more Archons and an Arc Knight came running down the corridor towards them, but a Zen’zat jumped into the middle Archon from a side corridor and knocked him out of view. The other Archon went to help but the Arc Knight continued forward and headed straight for the monster Zen’zat that was shooting Rio as the trailblazer dove into his legs, catching a kick to the face and holding on as he flew backwards and dragged it out from under the Zen’zat.

To his credit the Zen’zat hopped forward, staying on his feet long enough to pound through Rio’s shields and land a good hit to his helmet before the Arc Knight came in and tackled him as he entered their battlemeld, replacing the downed ViLord and bringing them back up to 5.

Between him, the Arc Knight, and the ViLord that was shooting the Zen’zat at pointblank range, the three quickly summoned up a Trielo as Rio and the Arc Knight tried to hold him down. The invisible stun orb floated above and between them, then when the Zen’zat kicked Rio off and threw the Arc Knight to the side he stood up right into it, catching it on his right arm and having the limb go nearly dead.

Rio flew back a couple meters and grabbed his wrist even as the Zen’zat shot the ViLord and got through her shields, then the trailblazer dragged the numb limb back down the corridor and spun him around several times, eventually throwing him back towards the other two and through a Lew conduit that drove a disabling balance spike into his brain, causing him to stumble and fall.

The ViLord continued to shoot him in the chest as the Arc Knight dove onto the Zen’zat’s head and left arm, pinning both to the ground while his right was just beginning to regain feeling as the rifle shots finally got through his armor and hit flesh.

A Lachka hold tore the rifle out of the ViLord’s arms and stopped the damage incoming, but Rio suddenly appeared and landed on the Zen’zat’s legs, half pinning them to the ground with another weak Ubven drop that also caught the Arc Knight, but like before he went for the penetrated points in the armor and placed a naked hand there, sending a steam of bioplasma through.

A few seconds later and the Zen’zat stopped thrashing, but he didn’t have time to relish the victory for Ethan and the other Arc Knight had been buying them time and his peer was now lying on the ground with a hole in his back.

Rio pulled his body back towards him as the three now free fighters took after the two damaged Zen’zat. The trailblazer took a knee over Ethan and pressed a hand down onto his wound as the other two bought him a few seconds. While his battlemeld link had broken, Ethan was unconscious but alive and Rio wanted to keep him that way, surging some flash healing to help stop the bleeding before he let him go and flew forward several meters into the fight that didn’t last long.

Damaged as they all were, the 4v2 was just too much for these weaker Zen’zat to manage. They managed to finish off the first Arc Knight before the ViLord’s rifle blast hit both of them, then Rio was busy reviving the Arc Knight as the ViLord suddenly sat down beside him. Rio didn’t ask why, for the battlemeld link told him all he needed. She’d been carrying a bad wound for the last few minutes and fighting through it, but the Archon had to start self-healing now before she lost too much blood and passed out.

Once the Arc Knight revived, Rio spent just enough time to get him stabilized but still unconscious, then he took off down the corridor running past Ethan while telepathically checking on him and heading for the remaining fights still going down.

Sara slowly stood up, trying to suppress the pain in her chest where she now had a deep hole. Fortunately her right breast had soaked up some of the damage, but her lung had been hit and she was finding it a bit hard to breath. The trailblazer, between her Sesspik, Uzti, and Haemra, had gotten the worst of the damage patched up enough that she was able to walk, but the motion twisted her body just enough to really dig into the wound that she didn’t have enough biomass to fully heal and she didn’t feel like sucking away muscle and other tissue from the rest of her body to partially fill it back in.

She cannibalized enough fat tissue and the bit of muscle necessary to contain her injury, but that was it. Looking around at the dead Zen’zat, she probed them with Ikrid and Pefbar to make sure they were out of the fight, then she began walking towards where she felt a group of minds a few hundred meters away and out of sight behind the various emitter equipment that stood like buildings around them…some of which had been damaged in the fight, but that was nothing compared to the carnage of bodies.

Limping forward due to a melted bit of her right knee that had locked up, Sara followed the last bits of battle as the remaining Zen’zat were outnumbered and getting overrun. She made sure not to get too close, but when the last of them fell she went ahead and limped on into view of the group.

Zen’zat were laying dead everywhere, but so were just as many Archons and Arc Knights. Some were just injured like she’d been, but as many of the walking ones were running around to try and heal/revive the fallen while a few others were putting additional shots into the Zen’zat bodies to make sure they didn’t get back up.

Sara walked through everyone, ready to try and help if absolutely necessary, but she was in no condition to focus on someone else’s wound with hers still paining her badly. Soon though additional troops arrived in the form of Regulars that helped police the Zen’zat bodies and carry off the most badly wounded, then some additional medics finally arrived, one of which came up to Sara and stared at her chest wide-eyed.

“We need to get you to a med bay now,” he insisted. “I swear, I don’t know how you guys can walk these off.”

“Later,” Sara said with an appreciative smile. “I assume we’re all done here?”

“I hope so,” the medic said, glancing to his left. “You called us in.”

“Not me,” she said, pointing to her head that no longer held her helmet, but a lot of it was visible crunched up behind her head in too large a mass to be normal. “My comm is out.”

“I was told the area was clear of hostiles.”

“I thought so, just wanted to check,” she said as her armor began to split apart. Sara yelped as it did so, rubbing into her chest wound with jagged edges that cut her thinly regrown skin and started it bleeding again as the trailblazer stepped out of her broken armor and left behind the mechanical limp as her burnt white uniform underneath began getting a bit redder than it already was.

“Damn,” the medic said, pulling out a Star Force regenerator from his pack, but Sara held up a hand.

“I don’t have the biomass left…and I don’t want it cannibalizing anything else. I’ll manage.”

“Let me get you some foam then,” he said, pulling out a small canister.

Sara nodded and he sprayed it into her wound, filling it up and applying the same numbing/healing agent as a patch would, but because of the cavity such a flat item wouldn’t be as effective. When he pulled out a patch later to try and put it over top Sara stopped him, with a sign of relief on her face as the numbing effect began to kick in.

“Thank you, that’ll do.”

“You’re not coming to a med bay, are you?”

“I will soon, right now I have things to do. Attend to the others.”

“I think they’re all covered, but I’ll roam and check,” he said, taking a step away from her then turning back in admiration. “Glad you guys are on our side.”

Sara let him go without another word, then without the hindrance of her armor she walked slowly but smoothly through the battleground as the Zen’zat bodies were being picked up and removed. An army of techs replaced them as they began cleaning up all the blood and gore while others took to the damage done to the emitters, passing her by with a myriad of odd looks but none of them interrupted her as she moved about watching the last of the wounded walk or be carried off.

Eventually she came across Rio and saw Ethan laying on a hover plank as two medics pulled him along with a Star Force regenerator attached to his chest.

“How bad?” she asked as Rio left them and headed towards her, though he was still wearing his armor that had a few small holes in it, but not as big as the one Sara had suffered.

“Bad, but he’s out of danger now. How are you still walking?” he asked, looking at and into the hole in her chest using his Pefbar to see through the foam poking out in a way that looked like the tip of an ice cream cone.

“Last man standing,” she insisted. “How many did we lose?”

“18 unrevivable, another 46 hurt so bad they can’t walk out. If we didn’t have numbers on them we would have got our asses kicked even worse.”

“We did plenty of damage of our own,” Sara insisted. “Now I can understand why the psionics are such a threat to them. Most of those Zen’zat outranked us.”

“Some by a lot,” Rio agreed. “Our friend from the Ribbon wasn’t the strongest.”

“Glad we got him. Are we all done?”

“Teams are still searching the area to make sure some of them didn’t split off, but all indications are that this was the last of them. You need to get to a med bay.”

“Later. Did Vermaire make it?”

“Yeah, and he took out two of the badasses…with help.”

“Figures. Was he hurt?”

“He walked it off, same as you.”

“We need the security cam footage analyzed and genetic samples taken from the Zen’zat. If there’s been any upgrades we need to know, and potentially steal. As much as we’ve been preparing for this, they fought harder than I expected.”

“I expected them to be more cautious with equal opponents, but I was wrong. When they get pushed they push back harder. Their dominance hasn’t made them soft. If not for battlemeld they would have wrecked us.”

“They killed enough as is,” Sara said, referencing not only those involved in the battle here but the deaths the Zen’zat had racked up amongst the civilians and security forces they’d blown through to get this far into the Antarctic cityscape. “We’ve got a huge backline problem if they send units of this caliber in.”

“I think these were the best they had. They were going for an infiltration of the pyramid.”

“Agreed. What the hell were they thinking?”

“Maybe they thought we wouldn’t fire through our own city.”

“That was stupid of them…but we’ll take it. I don’t expect any gifts like that in the future. How long do you think we have?”

“If Roger can’t destroy their fleet, maybe 6 months. If he can, I think they’d send a scout to check out what’s going on,” Rio hoped. “We might get a couple years that way.”

“I bet they get at least one ship back.”

“I never count Roger out, but I wouldn’t put credits on him getting them all either. You think they’ll come straight back here or hit our perimeter systems?”

“Maybe both, but they’re not ignoring Earth. We beat them here, so this is where they will come first to undo their failure. Their collective ego won’t allow for anything else.”

“I’m still worried about Morgan.”

“Don’t be. She’ll be ambushing them as they transit here.”

“Point, but her worlds are new and can’t match the defenses here…and they know what it takes to get through our planetary shields. They’re going to come back prepared.”

“I know,” Sara said, wincing a little as she flexed her chest, testing the level of numbness. “What’s our next move?”

Rio thought through that for a second, but no matter what ingenious ambushes they set up or how many summons they pulled down it wasn’t going to matter. Even if they destroyed the next assault fleet, and the next, and the next, the V’kit’no’sat would keep sending more from their nearly infinite empire until Earth and the rest of Star Force wasn’t just defeated, but completely erased from existence.

There would be no surrender, no mercy, no negotiation. As they’d expected all along, the V’kit’no’sat were completely unyielding and there would be nothing that deterred them from eliminating the Zen’zat ‘abominations’ that existed in defiance of their edict. They’d even said as much directly, confirming long held assumptions and Puff’s prediction, with the combat here attesting to the fact that even when outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and outgunned they were not going to surrender. They were going to fight to the last and take as many enemies with them as they could, even if negotiation would actually save their own people to fight another day.

They were totally intransigent, and in light of that there was only one thing Star Force could do. They’d known it would come to this, and even as fiery and determined as Sara was, Rio could see in her eyes that she’d already come to the same conclusion.

“Begin the evacuation.”

Mass Effect 'Hold the Line' Speech

www.aerkijyr.com

The STAR FORCE UNIVERSE continues beyond the Origin Series into Phase 2, the V’kit’no’sat War, with Star Force: Earth Evacuation. All continuing books and mini-series are numbered 26 and up, for convenience sake.

Table of Contents

Perseverance

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Hradeiti

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Rammus

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Resurrection

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Intellect

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Bahamut

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Zealot

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Quenar

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Resolution

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Collaboration

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Reclamation

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Mantle

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Crusade

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Paladin

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Capitulation

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Leonidas

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Rajamal

- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Shiva

- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Kaalo

- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10

Intransigent

- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10