Star Force: Mak'to'ran Anthology
Author: Aer-Ki Jyr
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00
Description: Anthology containing: Star Force: Mak'to'ran (1) Star Force: Mak'to'ran (2) Star Force: Mak'to'ran (3) Star Force: Mak'to'ran (4) Star Force: Mak'to'ran (5)
Publisher: Archon Lore
Rights: Copyrights as per source stories

1

July 23, 3602

Interstellar Space

Era’tran Kafcha-class Dreadnaught

Mak’to’ran strode down one of the long walkways inside the 47-mile long warship, his gait one of patience as he headed for the command deck. The V’kit’no’sat fleet commander couldn’t take his normal route due to battle damage that was unrepairable while they fled, so he had to walk a circuitous route to get through most of the vessel as his crew mildly continued what repairs they could, often having to cannibalize intact sections of the ship to provide the raw materials to fabricate essential components. Right now there was no threat to them, for they were mid-jump and the Human fleet had already passed them by, but within a few hours time Mak’to’ran would once again be bringing his broken fleet into another system with the enemy waiting for them.

It had been happening in every system since they had fled Terraxis, the heart of the Human infestation where he’d been tasked with investigating the source of the illegal civilization and beginning their eradication. With treachery prompting his failure and subsequent retreat, the Humans had chased the remnant of his fleet across their territory and destroyed many more of Mak’to’ran’s ships, for he couldn’t travel at full speed. Rather he had to travel at the rate of the slowest damaged vessel, and that choice was haunting him. He had lost so many post-Terraxis that logistically it would have been wiser to leave the damaged ships behind, but after the carnage that had happened previously he was going to make the Humans pay for every additional V’kit’no’sat ship they killed…and he’d done precisely that.

Every system they passed through they had to fight a battle, and he was costing the Human’s Star Force empire a lot of their remotely-controlled attack ships, but neither he nor any of his other 824 surviving warships could reach the enemy’s occupied vessels, nor could they disrupt their control signals. That meant while he was killing more Human ships he wasn’t killing any of them, which only further added to his ire.

But you couldn’t tell it from his movements or his mind. Both were solid and unshakeable as the Tyrannosaurus Rex walked through a large archway to one of the few remaining transit hubs on the ship. A few others stepped aside to let Mak’to’ran enter the open pod alone out of respect, along with a contingent of Zen’zat scurrying away around his feet.

It was deeply insulting to think that the small Zen’zat, whom these Humans were altered versions of, could have defeated a full V’kit’no’sat battle fleet, but the treachery did not lie with them alone. Though Mak’to’ran had lost most of his original 10,488 warships, they had come away with valuable information regarding the heresy centered in Terraxis, the most pertinent part being that one of the two founding races of the V’kit’no’sat were involved…and that fact still chilled him to the bone. Regardless of which it was, the fracture that would result from a civil war involving one of them would likely destroy the empire.

That information, along with everything else he’d learned, had already been transmitted back into the V’kit’no’sat empire when they’d come within range of a Urrtren repeater system, meaning that even if he didn’t survive to make it back himself his duty had been acquitted, but Mak’to’ran did intend to survive. How many more ships he’d lose in these constant ambushes was what was in question.

His Kafcha-class dreadnaught was the largest hull size in the surviving fleet, making it the hardest to destroy with the pathetically small ships the Humans used, but they always attacked in great numbers, operating like a swarm, and even his dreadnaught had sustained additional damage since leaving Terraxis…in addition to what it had taken during the battle there.

But it wasn’t the slowest in the fleet. There were a pair of Dak’bri that were holding them up, barely operating on a fourth of the gravity drives they normally used to jump from system to system, making his entire fleet move so slowly between stars that the Star Force fleet had easily passed them by. They’d fired a few weapons as they did, but the approach speeds were so great there wasn’t a chance for a real battle out here. All ships were essentially coasting until they got within range of a gravity well to power their engines off of, but at least they still had a touch of maneuvering capability pulling off of distant stars to avoid any collisions.

He had gotten a ship count though, and the Humans continued to increase their numbers with every leg of the journey. There would be another sizeable force waiting for them to brake against the upcoming star and chase them around stellar orbit to the outgoing jumpline, killing as many V’kit’no’sat as they could in the process, but with each jump they made it brought them closer and closer to aid, for which Mak’to’ran had called for along with his data dump. Being on the move as they were, it was impossible to receive any targeted reply without a fixed position to transmit to, so he had no way of knowing if or when help would get to them. Until then he was going to have to keep moving and preserve as many of his remaining ships as he could.

The doors on the pod closed, leaving him the only occupant in the chamber as he telepathically accessed the controls and triggered the short journey through the intact transit tubes that ran the length of the tuning fork shaped ship. All Era’tran ships were constructed with a similar design, but while walking miles from one end to another was doable it was inefficient for the massive bipeds and even more so for the tiny Zen’zat, who had additional transit pods so small that Mak’to’ran and his kin couldn’t fit inside them. They were necessary, however, for the Zen’zat to serve them and conduct maintenance on remote parts of the ship…for there were some areas where Era’tran simply couldn’t fit and was beyond their telekinetic range.

Zen’zat had long served all the races in the V’kit’no’sat empire, but they held a special place with the Era’tran who had been their primary advocate for inclusion, not as equals, but as a badly needed servant race. Their small size and atypical body structure had its uses, and over the millennia the Era’tran’s faith in the Zen’zat had proven correct, but now their potential had been taken to entirely new heights with these bastardized Humans that had been given access to psionics they had not earned…along with a level of knowledge that could only have come from one of the primary V’kit’no’sat races.

What Mak’to’ran had discovered in Terraxis suggested that someone was plotting a rebellion and experimenting with upgrading the Zen’zat and growing Hadarak that would obey their will. The latter was the more unbelievable, but it was clear that this Human empire had been built outside the boundaries of V’kit’no’sat territory in order to give the traitors the freedom to conduct these experiments in secret. Their discovery had obviously come before they were ready to make their move, for the Human empire was still too weak to directly challenge the V’kit’no’sat, but they could still do damage…as was evidenced by the scraps of Mak’to’ran’s fleet, which was made up of dozens of difference V’kit’no’sat races, all of which had been put under his command for this mission.

No one had said anything about his utter failure, but as he constantly thought through the events that had occurred only a few weeks ago there was little he could actually criticize himself for. These Humans did not fight like Zen’zat and had surprised all of them with their audacity and cleverness. It would do them no good in the long run, for already the V’kit’no’sat were adapting to them, but this Star Force was something new and he was beyond frustrated with his inability to adjust quickly enough.

But the key point in their defeat was not something he could have anticipated. Either the Oso’lon or the J’gar had given the Humans codes to unlock the weaponry in the planetary defense station the V’kit’no’sat had left behind long ago, and with it Star Force had been able to lure them into a trap that should not have existed. Both the Oso’lon and J’gar in his fleet had assured him the Humans could not unlock the weaponry on their own, and both races had lost ships in the fighting, the centerpiece of which was the J’gar Mach’nel. The mobile battle fortress was one of only a few produced by the V’kit’no’sat and its loss was nearly the equal of the rest of Mak’to’ran’s fleet.

But the question kept burning in his mind as he exited the transit pod and continued to walk with quick, plodding steps towards the command deck…

Did the Oso’lon arrange this, or did the J’gar deliberately sacrifice a Mach’nel in order to cover their own treason?

He couldn’t answer that or a lot of other questions, but they wouldn’t leave his mind. The very might of the V’kit’no’sat was being challenged, and not from the exterior. This was the work of an insider, and it may very well have been multiple races conspiring together to overthrow the rest, but either the Oso’lon or the J’gar had to be involved.

And if one of them was, the empire was about to come crashing down in one fashion or another, for they were by far the strongest and wisest of all the races and had in fact been the ones to found the V’kit’no’sat long ago to fight the Hadarak in the galactic core and keep them from spreading outward and consuming more star systems.

The fact that these traitors had found a way to coopt Hadarak took their betrayal to unthinkable heights, for the V’kit’no’sat continually lost ships in that ongoing struggle for containment. If one of the races had discovered a means to control the Hadarak and had not shared it with the others…

Such heresy left Mak’to’ran in a perpetually sour mood, but he didn’t take it out on his Era’tran and Zen’zat crew. When he arrived on the command deck he walked into the massive chamber quietly, finding the normal tranquility undisturbed by recent events. Nearly all Era’tran technology was mentally operated in some fashion, so there was little need to talk even during battle. Right now the ship was coasting towards its destination system along with the rest of the surviving fleet, with the sparse command deck staff picking up a few more members as the countdown to arrival neared.

Those here now were attending to routine ship duties and repair efforts, able to see through computer linkages that fed information directly into their minds about what was happening elsewhere, or by using the myriad of holograms that lit the command deck as much as the surrounding lighting did. Mak’to’ran walked through the relatively wide open space until he came to a short, wide pedestal that he stepped up onto with one stride, then he positioned himself inside a silver circle and sat back on his tail as a whirl of new holograms sprung up around him.

He could see anything and everything he needed, though at the moment the exterior view wasn’t important. The binary star system ahead was barely visible beyond the surrounding starfield, but the pair of stars they were headed to were gradually growing larger. Everything else was static, including the ships stationed around the Kafcha. All had been locked together in formation since they departed, using navigational adjustments as they left the previous system to align with one another and then using mooring beams to null out the last bits of errant momentum.

Normally that was unnecessary, but Mak’to’ran wanted the fleet to come out of their jump as close as possible to one another, which was difficult with so much damage spread throughout the fleet. Each ship would decelerate only as fast as it could push against the star ahead, and with missing gravity drives some ships would have to scale back their power in order to stay in alignment with the others. If not, they’d arrive scattered and make easy targets for the waiting Star Force warships.

No, Mak’to’ran had to keep them together and the most damaged ships at the center of the formation as they raced around the perimeter of the star to get to the exiting jumppoint. Once there they’d accelerate again and get back to the relative safety of interstellar space…but he knew not all of his ships would make it out, and he could only stay and fight so long to protect the ones that were disabled. With each system they passed through they lost more and more, but how many they lost was going to be partially dependent on his skill as a fleet commander and ever since leaving Terraxis he had been doing everything he could to diminish the number of subsequent losses.

And like before, he went through every single ship checking status updates and ordering them to run simulations to confirm gravity drive and weapons availability, then he wove all the ships together like a giant puzzle with each strength covering another’s weakness as he crafted orders for ship movements as soon as they were back inside the glow of the stars ahead and had access to their intense gravity well…for right now all they could do was sip off a trickle from the stars ahead and even less from those closest on the periphery, but V’kit’no’sat technology was so advanced that even a trickle could be used if needed, but maneuvering miles upon miles of warship through space required greater gravity, and the stronger the gravity became the more power the gravity drives could produce.

All V’kit’no’sat knew that from their youth, but what many did not understand was that the first few seconds after a jump were critical, for the enemy would not know exactly where you were until sensor pings were able to bounce back. Unfortunately they would know your approach trajectory from the stellar radiation reflection pushing ahead of his fleet like a wave as they tore through it at multiple times lightspeed, but the Humans would not know where the V’kit’no’sat jumppoint would be exactly, so they’d have to guess and be nearby, giving the Era’tran a few moments to work with that he wasn’t going to squander.

But still, as a veteran commander he knew there was an opportunity to maneuver even before they stopped decelerating. One could change ship alignments during the deceleration, and he was going to rework his fleet positioning a bit based off updates to damage repair and what he guessed Star Force would have waiting for them. Their small ships didn’t travel between stars on their own, they were carried on larger ‘jumpships’ and then released inside a system, so he didn’t have a fixed count of the attack craft themselves, but there had been 3,829 jumpships that had passed them by and that would mean somewhere around 200,000 of their smaller ships to contend with.

Not enough to kill all of his ships, but too many to be able to get his fleet through the system intact.

Mak’to’ran spent hours planning the gauntlet run through the system, but when they were about 12 minutes away from making their deceleration jump things changed and the energy level on the command deck jumped. He could feel it telepathically as the minds around him, partially shielded from his view as his was from them, became both excited and eager as they received a signal from the system ahead indicating that V’kit’no’sat ships were already there and currently engaging the enemy.

Along with the transmission was the request for assistance in a very specific fashion, with the commander tag of an I’rar’et he wasn’t familiar with, but he wasn’t going to assume command without even knowing what was going on in the system, so Mak’to’ran accepted the request as he should and began rapidly reorganizing his fleet in the few minutes available before deceleration…for there was no way to slow down prior to the braking jump and buy more time.

Fortunately Era’tran possessed Sav, a psionic upgrade that not all V’kit’no’sat were gifted with. It allowed their minds to work faster and in more complex ways…something very useful for a fleet commander, but the rest of his Era’tran crew also possessed it and it allowed them to carry out his orders lightning fast. The Zen’zat did not have it, but they weren’t handling the most vital of tasks anyway, merely assisting the Era’tran where needed and they had learned long ago how to interface between the two without losing efficiency. The smaller minds were useful when the faster Era’tran ones got familiar with using them, and only a sloppy Era’tran would try and telepathically communicate to Zen’zat at a speed they couldn’t handle.

And such sloppy Era’tran didn’t make it into his race’s galaxy-spanning fleet, though he couldn’t say the same for the other races, some with less than reputable records regarding such things. Zen’zat were a valuable tool, but one had to know how to use them properly, and fortunately he did, for there were far more of the tiny Zen’zat on his Kafcha than Era’tran, and both worked together flawlessly as they brought the giant ship into the system at the exact spot the field commander has requested while the slower ships continued to decelerate and head in near to the star along a clear path that got them past the ambushers…which were now locked in a heavy battle that Mak’to’ran thought favored the Humans.

A battle that was now within firing range of some of his weaponry.

“Stand your ground,” he said aloud to the command deck as well as transmitting his words to the rest of his ships. “And remind them who the galaxy belongs to.”

2

The mostly intact ships in Mak’to’ran’s fleet braked hard and came out along with his flagship then diverted towards the nearby engagement that saw the Star Force ships immediately begin to reposition. Most of them disengaged and headed further in towards the star intent on hitting the badly damaged ships now that the Humans realized they were outmatched, but they didn’t all go. Some stayed with curious targets, hammering certain ships that appeared to be of no consequence.

Mak’to’ran saw through the guise quickly, but not soon enough to redirect his ships to intercept the fleeing Star Force control ships that suddenly found themselves a bit too close for comfort. Had he known their position prior to entry he might have been able to get a few shots off at them with some skilled navigational redirection during braking, but obviously the I’rar’et commander here wasn’t the Era’tran’s equal. He simply wanted to destroy the attack ships that were slowly overwhelming his relief force, and that was honorable enough. After all, they were here to assist his fleeing fleet and the Star Force jumpships were not going to be engaging in the battle itself.

Maybe the Human commander didn’t know the full extent of the damage to the surviving V’kit’no’sat ships, for his sacrifice of some 62 attack craft had been designed to draw the attention away from the distant jumpships.

Even as Mak’to’ran dealt with repositioning his fleet to follow the I’rar’et in towards the star and getting his own damaged ships heading back towards them he analyzed the odd move. What was their commander so afraid of?

It took nearly 20 seconds before he realized the obvious...and a few seconds after that the missing Star Force vessels from the tally that had passed them mid jump suddenly started appearing at the end of their own braking maneuvers.

It hadn’t been a desperation move to save their own jumpships. It had been a layered bait trap that fortunately Mak’to’ran hadn’t taken, giving him a few precious seconds to assess the overall situation.

“I am assuming fleet command,” he said, transmitting to the I’rar’et commander while simultaneously linking his ship’s command and control systems into the relief fleet using his superior status to overrule any debate. Each ship commander could manually override such things but they would not, save for emergency situations, meaning that within a moment all ships would be responding to his direct commands.

In mind’s eye the additional ships came online, glowing in respond to the command change, and he began issuing orders to some of them directly while allowing his crew to handle others. To them he gave loose orders that would allow them to micromanage with greater efficiency, but altogether he got a tendril of his fastest ships shooting out to reinforce the damaged group while they pulled back towards his primary fighting force.

Meanwhile he sent the I’rar’et ships…those that weren’t already a part of his original assault fleet…in two different directions. A chunk he sent after the Human control ships, not expecting them to make any kills but wanting to give the enemy commander something else to think about. The larger second group he brought to him, retasking individual ships into his own combat formations and strengthening them as the whole mass of ships headed towards the star and the recently arriving Star Force jumpships chased after them, unloading their attack ship ‘drones,’ as they called them, and sent them racing on ahead even faster.

Again, with so much damage his navigational options were limited, but Mak’to’ran had a tonnage advantage and intended to use it, turtling up his ships as they fought to provide cover for the damaged ones to rejoin, sending them to the center of the spherical formation all the while daring the Star Force swarm to hit them directly. He might lose additional ships, but they would lose virtually all of theirs.

The Human commander chose a third option, making one strong attack run against a specific portion of the sphere that had his attack ships moving like a narrow river and hitting a few Oso’lon ships…and only Oso’lon. Mak’to’ran didn’t have many left in his fleet, but the three that were getting hit were all located together and mostly intact.

That didn’t last long, and when he tried to rotate them backwards against more cover the river of attack ships moved to compensate. Many of them were lost, but the Humans accomplished their objective as all three ships were reduced to limping wreckage.

After that the Star Force fleet withdrew to a safe distance, coming back near their jumpships and engaging the chasing I’rar’et vessels until Mak’to’ran recalled them, leaving both groups sitting in space and staring at each other outside of weapons range.

Knowing better than to wait for more Star Force reinforcements to arrive, he got a few Oso’lon survivors off the damaged ships then got his now augmented fleet moving to the next jumppoint while watching the enemy carefully. They didn’t pursue, rather taking the time to recover their debris and annoyingly some of the V’kit’no’sat tech. The Era’tran truly wanted to turn around and punish them for that, but when querying the I’rar’et and realizing they were not sent to reinforce Mak’to’ran’s fleet, rather coming of their own accord from a nearby mission deployment in response to his call for aid, he knew he could not risk his remaining ships further.

Leaving behind the wreckage, he escorted his badly damaged ships to the jumppoint then left with them in one now larger, but still slow moving mass of vessels.

Over the following weeks they received no more ambush attempts. Already well beyond Star Force space, it seemed the arrival of reinforcements had caused the Humans to turn back and let the rest of them go, probably in fear of being ambushed themselves if they continued pursuit. But it wasn’t until a full 2 months after leaving Terraxis that Mak’to’ran finally counted himself and his surviving ships safe when a very large Oso’lon fleet appeared waiting for them in an uninhabited system on their forecasted return route.

Mak’to’ran was glad to see them, but the number of ships was alarming. There were over 2,000 vessels, most of which were also Kafcha-class, for the Oso’lon were amongst the largest of the V’kit’no’sat races and needed the extra hull space to accommodate them, much as the Era’tran did. That said, seeing more than 50 of them in one place was rare, and the fact that they were here alone was also a bad sign.

When a private channel request was made from the Oso’lon fleet commander, Mak’ro’ran accepted it with privacy fields being erected on the command deck so the crew couldn’t see him with their eyes or Pefbar.

“Are you still being followed?” the Oso’lon asked, its long neck making the hologram Mak’ro’ran was looking at appear far smaller than it should have been, so he changed modes and caused the surrounding command deck to disappear with a life size representation of his counterpart taking their place. The long necked Brontosaurus had a body far larger than his, but his neck was lowered almost parallel with its back, putting its head level with his when it dipped down leaning forward in a sign of obvious concern.

“No, we are not. Our pursuit has abandoned the chase,” Mak’to’ran said, using a secondary channel to order his crew to send a full update to the Oso’lon ships.

“Do you require assistance?”

“I need an escort or tow for my slowest ships so I can return at speed. Has a second attack group been formed?”

“Initial elements are gathering at Nooron presently.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Both the Oso’lon and J’gar have been forbidden from participating in the reprisal.”

“Forbidden?” Mak’to’ran asked, not fully contemplating that. Those two races led the V’kit’no’sat. “By whom?”

“Everyone else. They know one of us has traitors in our midst, and they wish to forestall further treachery by banning our participation. I am here because I want to know the truth before you return. If the J’gar are at fault they must be made to pay and the remainder of the V’kit’no’sat rallied around us, or our empire will be torn apart. You must realize that this threat pales in comparison to the damage the Rit’ko’sor enacted?”

“And what if it is the Oso’lon who are responsible?” Mak’to’ran asked directly.

“Then they did not involve me in their treachery. I am loyal to the V’kit’no’sat first, therefore I must know where to stand. We cannot act on suspicion alone.”

“I withheld nothing from my report,” Mak’to’ran answered honestly. “The weaponry in the planetary defense station was unlocked. Only two races have the codes to do that. I do not know which of you is at fault. Those answers will have to be wrung out of the Humans.”

“Do you believe they will give them up willingly?”

“No. I believe they will have hidden their secrets closely. We will have to conquer them in order to find the pieces of information we need. To begin that discovery we need to recover the planetary defense station, which is why it is imperative that I return as quickly as possible. The more time they have to prepare the harder it will be for us to take it intact.”

“You anticipate them getting reinforcements?”

“Of their own, yes. I do not expect their sponsor to show up in support, however.”

“And you wonder to our presence here?”

“I do.”

“The J’gar lost a Mach’nel to this Star Force. Some would infer that they would not sacrifice one to cover their own treachery if a war is to come. That puts primary suspicion on us.”

“So it might. Are you here to prevent us from returning?”

“On the contrary. I am here to insure you make it back intact.”

Mak’to’ran’s eye ridges condensed in a very displeased gesture. “You expect direct treachery?”

“Whoever is responsible for this has been exposed. Either they will begin their overthrow attempt now or they will try to abort and conceal.”

“You are unknown to me.”

“I am Chak’ri, and this fleet is composed of the majority of our nearest assets. I was the closest, so I was assigned to come for you.”

“Assigned by your Teelriem?”

“No. Yaniel so ordered me.”

That name Mak’to’ran did know. Yaniel was one of the Oso’lon that was more than 2 million years old and one of their most renown war commanders, better skilled in ground ops than naval, but a legend to all V’kit’no’sat none the less.

“And I am supposed to go where?”

“He did not specify. I am here to gain what information I can while insuring your weakened state is not preyed upon. I would assume you end up at Itaru eventually.”

“I intend going back to Terraxis directly. Has another mission commander been assigned?”

“Not since we left behind the Urrtren,” he said, referring to the V’kit’no’sat name for their empire-spanning comm grid. “If your intent is to go to Nooron, we will see you safely there. Do you wish to transfer to one of our ships? Yours appears to be hindered by damage.”

“We are down a few gravity drives, but can make decent speed. It is the other vessels that have been slowing me. If another assault is imminent, I need to reach the fleet before it is launched if at all possible. I need to lead the counterstrike, or the cost of lessons learned will be squandered no matter how much record analysis has been done.”

“I will take a fourth of my ships with you and leave the rest to assist your surviving fleet. We will get you to Nooron as fast as possible if you will allow a tow to compensate for your missing gravity drives?”

“Acceptable, but multiple ships will be needed.”

“I will assign three to your navigational command.”

With a few lengthy thoughts, Mak’to’ran sent the appropriate orders to his crew and let them begin the long task of detailing the fleet combinations that would allow for towing with the available Oso’lon vessels as well as relinquishing command to the Kret’net Na’shor that contained Vatalak. He would have left command to Garrtak, but he and several other racial leaders in his fleet had died in Terraxis, leaving the Kret’net as the one he trusted the most to get the fleet back to port, at which point it would be disbanded, but until then it was still Mak’to’ran’s responsibility and he intended to make sure nothing happened to it while he attended to more pressing matters.

“I need to leave immediately.”

“Proceed and we will follow.”

Mak’to’ran broke communications and extricated his Kafcha from the fleet, heading ahead of the limping ships to the jumppoint with the promised fourth of the Oso’lon vessels accompanying him. Two Na’shor and a Kafcha made themselves available and Mak’to’ran’s crew linked them into their navigational system and altered their IDF so that all were connected into a single mass that every gravity drive would propel, with mooring beams making sure there was no microscopic drift between the hulls that would pull one of the four out of alignment and brake the connections with disastrous consequences as part of a ship tried to accelerate away from another and ripped themselves apart.

But towing ships was a skill the V’kit’no’sat had mastered long ago and with a little preparation the four ships were linked as one by the time they hit the jumppoint, then they accelerated slightly behind a few hundred Oso’lon ships with the rest following seconds later, creating a protective bubble that would carry them through multiple jumps of considerably longer range, diminishing the number of stops they’d have to make on their way to the closest black hole link. The rest of the limping fleet would have had to go another way…a long way, had the Oso’lon not showed up, for there was a minimum speed requires for such a lengthy transit, otherwise the accuracy of launch would be hindered and the potential for missing your arrival point increased.

The more gravity drives you had the more micro corrections you could make enroute, and with the three Oso’lon ships linked in Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha didn’t have any worries when they reached the first black hole, finding a patrol fleet there as was usual. It only contained 13 ships, but that was more than enough to keep the non V’kit’no’sat traffic tranquil, otherwise various races would have been trying to ambush each other at such an important navigational point, for this black hole connected to three others that were in range, though the longest jump only the more advanced races could take advantage of, and that’s the one Mak’to’ran’s ship was going to make.

Once the black hole acceleration jump was complete the coast duration was not much longer than a normal system jump, but the speed and distance traveled were greatly increased. During the transit they passed the official border into V’kit’no’sat space, coming out at the coreward black hole and finding a much larger guardian fleet spread out around the dark system along with a huge Barkod-class defense station.

The station had always been here and stretched out some 840 miles long in a giant flat disc that belonged to the Brat’mar. It was both an outpost and war asset, though less powerful than a Mach’nel. It had more weaponry for sure, but without the Yeg’gor armor it didn’t have the lasting power in battle against similar strength foes…but for all the other races transitioning through this black hole link it was as impregnable an installation as any other, for the V’kit’no’sat technology was so advanced that no fleet, no matter what the size, stood a chance against it.

The auxiliary defense fleet was here so it could zip around the system and deal with threats that didn’t intend to assault the Barkod, but Mak’to’ran noted that the size of this fleet, now some 740 vessels, were not comprised of Brat’mar ships. Most of them were a mix of other V’kit’no’sat races and Mak’to’ran’s comm started to light up as soon as he came within communications range.

He ignored most of the calls, instead sending all those inquiring a personal copy of all data recovered from Terraxis…information already passed onto the Urrtren from afar, but with suspicions high such information could always be feared to be tampered with. Getting a direct copy from the mission commander seemed to settle some of the agitation, but it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Now that Mak’to’ran was in a system that was on the Urrtren, meaning that the beam transmissions from other systems had a point to send updates directly to, he was getting information from across the galaxy uploaded into his ship’s databases. There was lag, of course, and data from systems on the other side of the galactic core took forever to make its way through the Urrtren, but there was enough chatter from local areas regarding the heresy uncovered in Terraxis to disturb him…along with a recall order for him to go directly to Itaru.

Anger flared in him the moment he received it, but he didn’t have long to stew before another order of lesser magnitude was cited beside it. This one didn’t come from the V’kit’no’sat capitol, but rather Jamtren, the Era’tran capitol.

Technically Itaru outranked them, but this order came from Hamob himself. He wasn’t the active leader of the Era’tran, but one of the eldest who didn’t deign to get involved in the day to day affairs of the empire. He was a recluse sought out for only the most important of matters, and for him to contact Mak’to’ran directly was not only a great honor, but an indication of how serious this matter had become.

And he was one Era’tran whose command outranked even Itaru’s, as far as other Era’tran were concerned. If he went to Hamob he wouldn’t be faulted for it inside his own race, and the Era’tran leaders would back his absence and defiance of an Itaru recall. He knew that without even being told, as well as assuming that something major was in the works.

Maybe Hamob knew which of the founding races was responsible for this treachery? If so, why he would need Mak’to’ran when he had already transmitted all data was uncertain, but there was no debate within Mak’to’ran’s mind with regards to which order to follow…and even the fact that he was going to miss the second assault on Terraxis no longer mattered to him. If Hamob was summoning him, then that summons took priority.

He just hoped that whoever was assigned as commander of the second fleet was overly cautious on arrival, and with that thought Mak’to’ran put together a personal message for whoever that individual would be and sent it off through the Urrtren to find its recipient whenever they were appointed, then he confiscated one of the Era’tran Na’shor in the system that was fully operational and took his leave of the Oso’lon, not waiting for them to respond to his parting message as he zipped out of the dark system on a link to another black hole as he began his long trip around the curve of the galaxy to the Era’tran capitol of Jamtren.

3

March 12, 3603

Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

Holloi

When Mak’to’ran’s ship entered orbit of Holloi it decelerated to a respectful creep as it passed by the defense columns that ringed the planet’s equator. Each was the size of a small moon but elongated into a bent tube that made them somewhat resemble ribs. There were 38 of them in orbit of the planet, each over 700 miles long and having a unique identity. All were armed and well shielded, but they functioned as the pillars of Era’tran society and the interface point for the capitol with the rest of the V’kit’no’sat empire.

The planet beneath them was reserved for Era’tran only, and even the Zen’zat there were handpicked and trained to function in the high gravity. Most Era’tran did not live on the planet, occupying four other worlds in this system and thousands across the galaxy that belonged to them alone, not to mention the shared worlds. This one, however, was the center point for the Era’tran and the most holy location for them.

Not because it was their homeworld, for it wasn’t. That was Aartren, located on the other side of the galactic core that they were just now skirting. Both systems were buried in the crush of navigational congestion, but anyone in the know could pick out Jamtren with ease, for it was the location of the Era’tran’s greatest victory…and most humiliating defeat.

It was before the V’kit’no’sat had formed and the Era’tran were engaged in not one, not two, but five separate wars simultaneously against malcontents that were no longer in existence. One known as the Partrek had destroyed more than a fifth of the Era’tran population over the course of two centuries and it was on this world now below Mak’to’ran where they had their largest military stronghold. When the Era’tran eventually took it from them it broke the Partrek’s will and their industrial powerbase, leading to a collapse of their civilization and the rise to dominance of the Era’tran, who laid claim to the world and began reshaping its extensive surface area to their own purposes.

The planet was huge and nearly hollow…as far as planets went. The interior composition was far lighter than most, allowing even more planetary volume for the 2.3g of gravity that the surface residents bore without augmentation. Standard Era’tran gravity rated at 1.2 and all their ships operated on such, as did most of their colonies, but not here. If you lived on Holloi it was expected of you to adjust, adapt, and grow stronger from it, and as such it had become a symbol for all Era’tran to identify with and test themselves against.

So while most of the work of the capitol took place in the columns ringing the planet and on the lesser planets in the system, the surface of Holloi was sacred ground that required permission to enter…and which other races were strictly forbidden from.

It was also the permanent residence of Hamob and many other important Era’tran that did not take an active role in day to day affairs of their race, in addition to the primary training grounds of the Hakja. The most elite of all Era’tran warriors, they normalized themselves to Holloi’s gravity in order to give themselves an advantage in combat on lighter worlds and often altered the gravity onboard their ships to match so not to weaken themselves during transit.

There were thousands of others groups here doing equally important things, but while the original gridlocked surface of the planet had provided an industrial powerbase to the Era’tran for more than 100,000 years it was no longer present. The cities below were scattered and dense within their own borders, but the majority of the planet was left barren and wild. Even now not all of it had recovered from the damage the Hadarak had done when they’d taken it from the Era’tran long ago, but there were large swaths of purple/blue vegetation creeping out across the barrens and fighting against the contaminated soil in a natural purging process that was millions of years in the making.

The Era’tran had decided it would be such rather than artificially accelerating the repair to the biosphere. They wanted the damage to remain as a reminder of the threat of the Hadarak for the younger generations and those who might lapse into forgetfulness, for Holloi had been ripped from the Era’tran when the Hadarak had ventured this far out, killing all on the planet and forcing a complete evacuation of the system. Reclamation of the system hadn’t occurred until the V’kit’no’sat had formed and their combined might had been enough to bloodily remove the Hadarak from one system after another…the work of which was still ongoing, for when they laid claim to a planet it was very hard to remove them, infesting multiple layers of the gravity well as they did.

But Holloi was cleansed of their taint now, and the one world above all others that the Era’tran would never allow to fall again. To that end there was also a huge fleet of warships in orbit and spread throughout the system in addition to the civilian traffic that was comprised mainly of the females and their Zen’zat. Neither engaged in combat, though both were capable. Within the Era’tran the females ran most of the economy while the males dealt with security and training. There was no rift between them, merely a delineation of duties to which each gender was better suited.

All races within the V’kit’no’sat also had binary gender divisions, but each dealt with them in their own way. Era’tran females were slightly smaller on average, but the primary difference between them was one of attitude. The females were hoarders, cautious to a fault, and very savvy with logistics. The males were brash just shy of being reckless, and when immediate action needed taking they would be the ones to jump in muzzle first and deal with it while the females supported from afar.

Other V’kit’no’sat races had different divisions, each according to their own biology and cultural structure. Zen’zat had none, with the differences between males and females being negligible and irrelevant given that each individual was chosen rather than born into their ranks. They were also forbidden from reproducing, which would have been a major detraction for the females considering they carried their young internally. The Era’tran did not, laying eggs as did most of the V’kit’no’sat races, though a handful also saw live births.

Some, like the Var’ku and Nax, were female dominated, for in both races they had the larger body structure and greater muscle mass while the males were smaller and faster. The Nax ground troops were primarily female while the Var’ku were a mix, but within all V’kit’no’sat races the gender roles were assigned based on biology and capability. Gone were the days of bias within the Era’tran and others. Efficiency was needed, and needed badly to continue to fight the Hadarak day after day for an eternity. They had to hold the line else the beasts would push out and claim new worlds…and retaking a world from them was far harder than protecting one from infestation, so due vigilance was required of all V’kit’no’sat, regardless of whether it was in direct combat or growing the infrastructure that fed the warriors the ships and weapons they continually expended to hold the Hadarak at bay within the densest part of the galactic core.

But on Holloi there were both males and females, though no offspring. The gravity was too intense for optimal development, so no egg laying was done here. That meant every individual on this planet was here for a specific purpose…and if you did not have a reason to be here, you would not be granted access.

Mak’to’ran held enough stature within the Era’tran that he was always allowed on the planet, but the crew of the ship that brought him was not, so the drop pod that took him down to the surface did not stay, with its Zen’zat pilots lifting off and returning to orbit the moment the former fleet commander stepped off the boarding ramp and set foot on the dry, rough ground outside the walls that encapsulated a medium-sized city.

The extra gravity compressed his body, but he took a moment and several tiny steps as he adjusted his form to it, then Mak’to’ran respectfully walked toward the city gates that opened prior to his arrival. He passed through an invisible energy shield where the doors had been and immediately picked up the moist atmosphere inside on his nostrils along with the various scents of the city’s interior.

As was customary, Mak’to’ran wore his armor in retracted mode, looking more like ornate jewelry than battle armor, but the shape-shifting technology of the V’kit’no’sat allowed for such a luxury. His skin was free to soak in the air aside from a tight pair of shorts covering his two legs and tail, though that was far less covering than most of the city denizens wore.

There were many Era’tran moving about, most of which wore full body sheaths or robes that covered similar amounts and cut off inches from the ground. None that Mak’to’ran saw wore armor, and the fact that he did was a clear sign of his stature as an elite warrior…not to mention the jewel colors set into the design that denoted him as being one of the Hakja from previous years. His current position did not include him in their active ranks, but the status remained the same so long as he didn’t forsake the warrior ways and allow his body and mind to deteriorate as some Era’tran who lost their way did.

None of them were on Holloi, making the world a repository of the best of the best the Era’tran had to offer…as well as some of the oldest.

Hamob wasn’t in this city, but this was where Mak’to’ran had been told to report to, specifically a plaza on the northern edge opposite from the gate he’d arrived at. That left him to walk some 38 miles, which would have been challenging for a Zen’zat, but not a warrior. Still, he didn’t want to delay, so after a patient stroll for a few he found an elevated walkway and climbed up the wide stairs onto it, standing on a flat strip that flanked the moveable pathway.

Mak’to’ran didn’t step on it, rather he jumped across with one heavy leap and landed on the stationary mid strip. From there he stepped onto the opposite moving shield panel and felt his feet only slightly tug beneath him in a constant, yet light movement that gradually accelerated him up to many times walking speed, carrying him and others along the elevated path as they passed individuals heading the opposite direction just out of tail’s reach to his left.

He passed along numerous sections of track, bypassing other entry/exit points with a simple mental command so his speed would not have to slow at the transition areas as he looked up at the underside of the many buildings he was passing beneath, for most were constructed of the same design as their warships with the two forward prongs contacting the ground and the opposite single shaft reaching high up into the sky. There were many such buildings marking the elevated portions of the city, but between them were shorter buildings of different design…and lesser importance.

That said, nothing on Holloi was unimportant. Even the Zen’zat only buildings that were too small for any Era’tran to enter were valued enough to be here, for their servants were carrying out the wishes of his race and doing so with equal zeal and vigor. Having infrastructure built to accommodate their size only made them more efficient, though they also had to hold up against this gravity and were not given permission to alter it even in their private chambers.

If one was to live on Holloi, they had to be strong. Weakness here meant exile to a ‘safer’ world while those with the will to endure would remain and grow more powerful from bearing the constant strain.

Mak’to’ran had trained here for more decades than he could remember, but he hadn’t been back in a long time. Fortunately his body was remembering the gravity and how to flourish in it, but he knew it would be a few days before he got fully adjusted. Would he be here long enough for that, or was this to be a quick personal visit? Hamob hadn’t said, merely requesting his presence, so Mak’to’ran had mentally disconnected himself from all other tasks to make himself available for whatever the honored Era’tran wished of him.

When Mak’to’ran came to the plaza he got off the Satu track and walked down into the sea of statues depicting key individuals or events in Era’tran history. All were lifesize, including the one of the Era’tran Ultra known as Barskyn, who was still alive and living on another world, but his efforts during the Rit’ko’sor rebellion earned him a place of honor here amongst the statues of the many honored dead from Era’tran history.

Mixed in with the statues were the living moving about doing a variety of things, most of whom were simply passing through the plaza enroute to elsewhere, but there were a pair waiting beside Hamob’s statue as if they were its bodyguards, with both twitching to alertness as Mak’to’ran approached them with his warrior armor glittering in the blue sunlight.

“I am Mak’to’ran,” he announced when standing before them. “I have been summoned.”

“That you have,” the Era’tran on the left said, with both being dressed in short, black robes that dropped down to knee level and no further. “Follow.”

Mak’to’ran did as instructed without asking for any further information as the pair led him across the plaza and eventually to the edge of the city where there was a vehicle bay. They procured a barge that all three walk onto, then the floating platform silently moved them out of the bay and through the nearby city gate.

The dry air hit Mak’to’ran again as his escorts flew the barge across the barren ground for a great distance, traveling so fast that a wind screen popped up to ease the transit for the passengers. The rocky, sand-blasted terrain passed by quickly, but after some time sprouts of vegetation began popping up in places they had no right being…evidence of the hardy plants fighting back against the devastation in their own small way.

As they continue on more appeared, then in the blink of an eye they were decelerating and entering a wide path through a fully regrown forest where the air moistened a bit, but was still fairly dry for more than an hour before a burst of humidity hit Mak’to’ran just prior to the path moving onto a wide curve on the edge of a dropoff that gave them a brief theatrical view of a lush valley with a huge waterfall on the far side…

But it disappeared after a few seconds as they were once again back inside the thick vegetation and continuing to move on down the path that had yet to see another barge or even foot traffic on. This was completely uninhabited terrain as far as Mak’to’ran could tell and over the remainder of their journey he saw nothing to dissuade him from that assessment all the way up to the foot of the structure all but hidden inside a wall of vegetation on the edge of a small circular clearing where the barge finally stopped.

“He is here, and here you will remain,” one of the escorts said as Mak’to’ran stepped off onto damp but firm soil covered in a thick, short grass. He flicked his nostrils in a gesture of acceptance, then the barge rotated around and took back off down the path that Mak’to’ran now saw had a second exit from the plaza, heading elsewhere he didn’t know, but it seemed his escorts were going to return to the city.

Drawing in a deep breath and relishing in the feel of life flourishing under the crush of the high gravity, Mak’to’ran stepped towards the entry staircase as lightly as he could and searched for a mind inside, finding none. Yet when he came to the flat platform on top the single door into the facility rose up revealing three archways.

Mak’to’ran squinted, suspecting some kind of test as he tried to determine which of the three he was meant to take. His first guess was a hidden telepathic transponder, but there were none to find, and rather than choosing one at random he held position considering his options until the tiny grooves in the red/black stone beneath his feet finally caught his attention.

Using his Pefbar he examined them closely, barely able to make out the tiny writing. One with lesser skill with the psionic would not have been able to read the markings, and Mak’to’ran was glad he had, for two of the pathways suggested light punishments for a lack of awareness. The third and far right granted access to ‘he who is aware or lucky’ and Mak’to’ran respectfully entered through that archway with the wide door lowering over all three entrances and sealing him off from the outside as the lights ahead of him flicked on in sequence leading him around a corner and down a twisting staircase.

4

His walk did not take long, for as soon as the staircase ended Mak’to’ran was on the edge of a large bowl-shaped room that had a small pool in the epicenter…a standard Era’tran design for living quarters, but the various items scattered around the room didn’t quite fit. Instead of personal items there was a mix of statues and equipment, most of it holographic in nature and data related, but with a very spartan feel to it. Era’tran were notoriously annoyed by clutter, and while the amount of equipment spread around the room might have fit that description for others, the precise way everything was arranged and loose items lined up in rows or placed in appropriate spots suggested that this was a work zone rather than a personal mess.

But no one was here. There were two doorways leading out on the far side, but Mak’to’ran respectfully held his position while telepathically announcing himself with an identity ping. In response a looming presence entered his mind and tried to fight past his natural resistances, to which he reflexively pressed back…only to have the other mind increase its power. There was a quick struggle that took Mak’to’ran to his limits, then just as his painstakingly trained mental defenses were crumbling under the assault the pressure lifted and the threat was gone.

So young, a voice said telepathically as Mak’to’ran finally picked up on another mind just before a doorway opened and another Era’tran walked in. He was slightly bigger than Mak’to’ran, but his musculature was less prominent. None the less he was fit, trim, and a proper vessel for the monstrous mind that had just sized Mak’to’ran up.

“You summoned me?”

“I did,” Hamob answered, walking down the incline on the far side until he stood on the edge of the pool. “There is much that needs discussed. Be seated.”

Mak’to’ran walked down his side of the incline to the flat outcropping indicated, feeling his feet sink in slightly on the padded material as he rotated around in a full circle, dragging his tail into a spiral that he then sat back on heavily as he dropped to his knees, forming a tripod seating position that Hamob mirrored on another pad.

“Are you away I was recalled to Itaru?”

“I am not surprised, but no, I was not informed of that at the time. Nor do I care. The Era’tran are in danger, and we must take decisive action.”

Mak’to’ran’s eyes widened slightly as his slit-like pupils contracted. “The Oso’lon or the J’gar?”

Hamob shook his large head, swaying the dangling jewelry from the crown-like object he wore on it, but Mak’to’ran knew better than to assume it was purely decorative, though he couldn’t place the item in his memory. It may have been civilian in nature, or perhaps something custom Hamob had made.

“Far worse than that. There has been a rift within the V’kit’no’sat that has lingered unseen to most. What you discovered in Terraxis is going to reveal and expand upon it, though how exactly I do not know. I have reviewed the data you sent back. Either the Oso’lon or the J’gar are responsible for this treason, correct?”

Hamob asked it so simply that Mak’to’ran was immediately put on guard.

“Only one of them could have unlocked the planetary defense station for the Humans.”

“You refer to the rogue Zen’zat?”

“They are not Zen’zat,” Mak’to’ran said more sternly than he had intended, drawing a disapproving glare from Hamob, but what was done was done so he continued without hesitation. “Treating them as such is a mistake we cannot afford to make again.”

“Then what are they?”

“Something new.”

“Explain further.”

“They do not fight like Zen’zat. They are smaller, have additional psionics, and have been trained specifically to fight us.”

“Yet their race is still Zen’zat. They have the powers we gifted them.”

“And more.”

“So I noted. You speculated in your report that there might be a tie to the Zak’de’ron Zen’zat. What do you remember from that time?”

“I was born during the culling and took part in some of the cleanup efforts. I never fought them directly, but I heard stories for centuries afterwards that were slowly discouraged and reduced to rumor. They were said to have psionics that traditional Zen’zat do not, and I have made inquires into the matter prior to my assigned mission. I know the full extent of Zen’zat genetics, and those within the stories and those I have witnessed on this mission do not fall within the gifts we have given them.”

“Then you know nothing of the Zak’de’ron…” Hamob said dismissively.

“What else has been hidden from us?”

“What else? Everything!” Hamob all but snorted. “They were a founding member of the V’kit’no’sat.”

“That I knew.”

“Did you also know they possessed priority codes along with the Oso’lon and J’gar?”

Mak’to’ran froze.

“I see you did not.”

“Are you saying those codes have not been revoked?”

“Yes I am.”

Mak’to’ran considered the implications of that, but it still made no sense.

“Terraxis did not exist when the Zak’de’ron fell. How could the planetary defense station be built with their codes after the fact?”

“Arrogance. It is the other side of the blade of dominance. If one misuses it, they fall victim to it. If one believes themselves to be superior by default then they are arrogant. If one knows they are superior based off evidence, then they are dominant…and they know it is possible to be defeated. The arrogant do not. They believe victory is automatic. Do you know why the Zak’de’ron were culled, as it was so erroneously labeled afterwards?”

“They would not share all that they possessed.”

“Ah, but there you have it wrong and right simultaneously. What exactly would they not share?”

“Knowledge, technology, resources?” Mak’to’ran said, guessing.

“Do we share all that we have with the other races?” Hamob asked, referring to the Era’tran. “Should we? Or are some things our prerogative?”

“If the V’kit’no’sat are in need of it we share, but lesser advancements we keep for ourselves.”

“Quite right. But the Zak’de’ron did not make advancements that they did not share. They were superior to the other races from the outset. Even the Oso’lon and J’gar were quite inferior to them, and the Zak’de’ron uplifted us all while gaining allies to fight the Hadarak. We benefited greatly, then stabbed them in the back for their generosity.”

“What actually transpired?”

“They shared with us much, but not all. We were never their equal. The other races did not accept this forever, and the notion of forced equality arose. It took a very long time to manifest, but 880,000 years ago the V’kit’no’sat made the biggest mistake possible and spurned those who were our greatest asset out of arrogance. If they would not share, they would be destroyed. When it happened we were gutted. You know of this, for it is how you rose to rank so quickly.”

“Many died, but the empire as a whole grew stronger afterward.”

“A lie. A carefully constructed lie on the part of the Oso’lon. I was our representative on the Elder Conclave at the time and even I was not privy to it. Over the millennia I have uncovered bits and pieces of the truth, and that truth threatens us now. We were in the wrong about the Zak’de’ron and we should have seen it. The Oso’lon lied to us about some things, but we were greedy and envious. Rather than use the Zak’de’ron as a source of knowledge and strength we were stupidly led to destroy it…and to this day we have not recovered. The reason why the Zak’de’ron codes are still part of our operating systems is because the Zak’de’ron helped construct those systems and we cannot generate a suitable replacement for them. Not without taking a step backwards.”

“Even after all this time?”

Hamob looked to his left and some of his equipment activated, displaying genetic information over the pool for both of them to see. He manipulated it with mental controls and scrolled through so much so fast that Mak’to’ran was lost.

“I have been studying the Zen’zat genetics off and on for some time, but your report spurned greater interest. These bits of coding,” he said, highlighting select areas that Mak’to’ran more or less knew the value of, though he wasn’t a geneticist, “are the pieces that we do not fully understand. The Zak’de’ron took what the rest of us constructed and added to it. They informed us of what they added and we have been using the same Zen’zat template ever since. No improvements have been made. We say that is because the Zen’zat have not proved themselves, but that is only half the truth. There are many abilities that they have not discovered, and if they cannot unlock those why delve into giving them more? It is not a lie, but it does cover the fact that even our best scientists do not fully understand these dense sections of coding. Only the Zak’de’ron did, and their knowledge has been lost to us.”

Mak’to’ran growled slowly, almost a purr but without any amicable sentiment to it.

“How much more are we relying on their legacy for our strength?”

“Much, but not in whole. There is no single technology that we do not have some claim to, which makes it all the easier to claim credit for the design and continue to copy it without full knowledge of how it works. I do not know what transpired at Terraxis, but I do know there are a third set of codes that none of us can access. And if there are such codes left behind, there might be other avenues in the programming that are not publically acknowledged.”

“Then they lied to me.”

“Those commanders in your fleet may have not, for they might not know. It is uncertain how deep the deception within the Oso’lon and J’gar go, but when you do not fully understand your own computer programming you cannot truthfully say there are only 2 points of access. I know of a third, and with that comes the uncertainty that should have been cited. The J’gar lost a Mach’nel for their assurances, though I would also point out that their records might have been faulty and the defense station never locked down in the first place.”

“That thought occurred to me, but I erred in trusting their assessment.”

“No, you did not,” Hamob said gently. “It was not the right decision to make, but you did not err. Others will claim you did. Even some Era’tran will rather than admit the V’kit’no’sat are not invincible. We are dominant, and the dominant know that they can be beaten. We have to work for our victories, they do not happen automatically. Again, the difference between arrogance and dominance. The arrogant, I feel, will try and lay blame on you rather than face the truth. That is a side benefit of the reason I called you here. There is no reason for you to go to Itaru or any other shared world. They have your full report, correct?”

“I held nothing back.”

“So your presence would only be to lay blame, perhaps on others. The Hjar’at perhaps. They were eliminated on a single blunder?”

“Garrtak was a friend. He was Hjar’at but he wasn’t recklessly stupid. His death was…unexpected. You know the circumstances?”

“Yes. The hidden warships…and him being trapped by debris of his own making. Again, arrogance. You expected Zen’zat and got something else…an offshoot that values their lives more than victory. Their warships were remotely controlled, yet you could not find a way to disrupt them?”

“Nor could we intercept their control vessels. They guarded them well.”

“Yet another excuse others would make. These rogue Zen’zat…Humans if you wish…took the arrogance that has simmered within the V’kit’no’sat like a plague and used it against you as a blind. Had your opponents been Hjar’at or Les’i’kron you would have approached the matter differently even in the same tactical situation. But Zen’zat are not a race, they are our servants and they used that against you. You underestimated them. Even I did not expect them to be so effective.”

“Which is why I need to lead the second attack.”

“I agree, but you will not. We have larger concerns to deal with, and the assigned commander will have your battle data to work with.”

“Who is being sent?”

“It has been concealed, but I know it to be a Kret’net. No Oso’lon or J’gar ships are being sent out of suspicion, and since the Era’tran have failed another will not be assigned the mission command, though a large number of our ships are being sent under Fad’ka. He is competent. I do not know of the Kret’net, however.”

“Is it Neo’sor?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“He is overly cautious, even for a Kret’net.”

“Then his selection makes sense, for they have given him a fleet 20 times the size of yours. We cannot have a defeat lingering, so they want Terraxis destroyed without any more surprises. Do you think they will succeed?”

“Star Force will have time to recall reinforcements. Their ships are a threat. Their defense stations were not. Is another Mach’nel being sent?”

“Two are.”

“Two?” Mak’to’ran said in disbelief. Mach’nel never operated together.

“Itaru wants this embarrassment squashed immediately, and it also wants those two Mach’nel out of our territory and away from potential internal assaults.”

“Which two?”

“One of ours and one from the Les’i’kron.”

“And they are keeping this quiet why?”

“Shame. It is overkill, so they assume, and they do not want it publicized. When was the last time 2 Mach’nel fought together?”

“I know of none.”

“Long before the Zak’de’ron war.”

“Which of ours is going?”

“Neifil,” Habob said, referencing one of three Mach’nel that the Era’tran possessed. “However, the decision for us to send one was at some great urging on the part of others. Excuses were made, but I believe they want it away from certain areas in preparation for an internal attack.”

“By whom?”

“Many possibilities. Though it has also been hidden, ships are being withdrawn from many locations and repositioned around lightly shared worlds. Some even from the Hadarak front.”

Mak’to’ran didn’t even have a response to that. The sheer treason of what was being suggested was too great.

“I see you understand the implications of that?” Hamob asked.

“The V’kit’no’sat exist to contain the Hadarak. If we renounce that duty then we have no reason to exist.”

“The Era’tran are not. I’ve made certain of that, and done enough checking to ensure that we are not part of any ongoing conspiracies. Our portion of the Hadarak defense perimeter will be maintained, but lapses may occur elsewhere.”

“If they take even a single system it will cost us far more to retake later,” Mak’to’ran all but pleaded, having fought on that front for more than 200,000 of his years.

“Arrogance,” Hamob repeated. “It is a poison that threatens to finally destroy the V’kit’no’sat. It was a concern prior to our betrayal of the Zak’de’ron. Since then it has been a countdown succession. Even without what you discovered beyond the border I have seen it coming. The Rit’ko’sor were not the only ones unsatisfied with the actions of the arrogant. They struck out of a desire to do damage. A form of protest rather than continuing on in relative subjugation. Others, I fear, are more ambitious.”

“How close are we to full civil war?”

“It is not civil war. It is something more insidious. One race against another is not the concern. We are all V’kit’no’sat. It is the arrogance within many minds that is the threat. Arrogance that will lead to irrationality, instability, and self-destruction. I fear the empire clawing itself to death out of madness more than ambition and greed. We are dominant. We are not invincible. Those who believe we are must maintain that lie, and the further from it we get the more panicked they will become. This Star Force having beaten you is a direct threat to this lie, and they are responding in a way to both suppress the truth of it and to eliminate the proof before it can spread.”

“How does that end with us fighting one another?”

“The weak must be culled,” Hamob said simply, and it took a moment before the implications of that sunk in.

“That is insanity.”

“Yes, it is, and it is growing rapidly. It has been festering ever since the fall of the Zak’de’ron, with us relying on their technology without full understanding of it. We cannot stand on our own accomplishments in full, so those who know of the lie are insecure. Every defeat we face is treated as a threat to our dominance rather than as a chance to prove our mettle. Lies, coverups, assassinations…these are already occurring and merely the beginning. Now we have races fearful of one another, cutting into the bonds that forged the V’kit’no’sat even further. The Rit’ko’sor are not such a distant memory, and the fear of a repeat situation is driving the wedge further.”

“The Hadarak experiments…”

“Yes. They are something the Rit’ko’sor did not have. If one race can master the Hadarak, they will not need the V’kit’no’sat. They will be masters of the galaxy. I do not fear this, for we know how to kill Hadarak. It is costly, but it can be done. But the arrogant cannot see themselves fighting an uphill battle. They must be automatic wins, and the idea of going against Hadarak controlled by another race is something they cannot risk. This Star Force experiment is not complete, so in order to prevent the knowledge from occurring…”

“They will strike at one another first.”

“No. Not first. They are merely moving assets around in preparation to defend themselves. As of now I have reason to believe that at least 3 factions are sending rogue fleets beyond the border without permission to hunt down and determine the threat of this new Hadarak weapon.”

“Without permission from Itaru?”

“Indeed.”

“That alone will cause backlash when revealed.”

“Yes it will. But if those fleets meet each other beyond the border, and distrust is running high enough, they may begin the war out there.”

“And what of the sponsor?”

“A wild card. I cannot deduce who it is.”

“Is there a chance it is remnants of the Rit’ko’sor…or even the Zak’de’ron?”

“Not the Zak’de’ron. We were overly thorough in their extinction. We had to be, else they would have recovered and destroyed us. We knew we had to strike first and swiftly, all the while getting intelligence assets into play so we could watch where they went. We tracked them down to the last and ended them, then built the Les’i’kron in their place. No, they are gone. If not we would be at this point. The Rit’ko’sor are another matter. They hit us without warning, so it is impossible to say if we got them all, but they did not have the tech level to accomplish this.”

“Perhaps they recovered lost Zak’de’ron technology.”

“Useless unless there was a Zak’de’ron around to inform them how to use it. I do not know what is going on beyond the border. It is what is going on inside that is the greatest threat. We are at risk, but we cannot cover ourselves properly without drawing troops away from the Hadarak front…nor can others. If fighting occurs and a mass withdrawal results…”

“Everything we’ve fought for since the Rit’ko’sor rebellion will be lost in a matter of years.”

“More than that. The Hadarak will regain territory they have not possessed since the Zak’de’ron fell. Another lie that is told is that our front is near to the closest to the core it as ever been, but the truth is that with the Zak’de’ron we owned part of the deep core. Now it is lost to us.”

“The deep core? How is that possible?”

“I cannot answer that. It was Zak’de’ron units responsible for most of that combat. We held onto what they gained, but when they were betrayed we lost the ability to push that far no matter how many ships we sent.”

“The deep core…” Mak’to’ran mewed, hardly believing it. “The Oso’lon and J’gar are responsible for these lies?”

“Mostly. We have perpetrated a few others in conjunction with the Elder Conclave. Fear of not obeying the will of the community is also a poison resulting from the Zak’de’ron fall. If we destroyed them for not sharing, not obeying the collective will…”

“It would be far less an effort to eliminate the Era’tran or any other short of the Oso’lon or the J’gar.”

“Yes, though taking down either of them isn’t doable. It took both of them and everyone else to barely defeat the Zak’de’ron and the empire is still weaker from it today. If the Oso’lon are attacked, there are many that would rally with them. Same for the J’gar. They cannot be isolated as the Zak’de’ron were. A full war that would annihilate nearly everything that is the V’kit’no’sat would result, and the fear of that is stoking the arrogance following your report. If either the Oso’lon or the J’gar are behind this Star Force, they are using it to supplement their own strength to the point where an overthrow of the other would be possible.”

“And if they can master Hadarak, they won’t even need any allies.”

“So the arrogant would say.”

“Forgive me. They would be less reliant on allies.”

“And in their deluded vision they would reform the V’kit’no’sat under their leadership or some other shortsighted fantasy. We are nearing the end of the V’kit’no’sat, one way or another. In light of that, your leading the second attack is pointless in the grand scheme of things…though I agree it would matter to the troops going into battle. I am sorry that you cannot go, but even if I had not summoned you, Itaru would most likely not have assigned you. As of now they are quite displeased that I somehow had the ability to supersede them, but the Yaern’ek are holding their ground,” Hamob said, referencing the active group of Era’tran leaders that led their race.

“What do you require of me?”

“To rid yourself of arrogance so that I may begin to reforge the V’kit’no’sat even as it begins to crumble,” Hamod said, full of angry confidence that others would have mistaken as arrogance had they not known the subtleties of Era’tran emotions.

“I do not understand.”

“Good. Good,” Hamob said, standing up on his pedestal and looking down at Mak’to’ran across the pond. “That is the first step. Come with me and I will start you on the second,” he said, heading for a nearby doorway that appeared in a transforming wall that had hidden it from both his visual and Pefbar sight.

5

Mak’to’ran followed the other Era’tran through a long tunnel that had to have led outside the facility, though he couldn’t be sure for the walls were constructed to block his Pefbar. That wasn’t too uncommon in Era’tran architecture, but such concealment always held a purpose and given that Hamob’s residence was far beyond any city or sign of other habitation it suggested significance.

“What are you concealing, and from whom?”

“There are a few Era’tran as arrogant as some Oso’lon, and they do not wish to allow the perception of invincibility to be stained. The work I have been doing lays our faults open, so it is best if I keep it concealed for specific sets of eyes such as your own.”

“You speak as if it were treason?”

“To them it would be. To us, we realize that dominance is something that has to be continually earned…and the preservation of the V’kit’no’sat is as far from treason as one can get,” Hamob said with a surge of emotion that unscored how serious he was about whatever he was working on in his solitudes.

Mak’to’ran followed him without further question until they came to a sealed set of doors that opened for Hamob, revealing a tiered chamber that stretched far to the left and right. There was a two person wide walkway at the bottom that ran in a straight line, then varying tiers going up an incline. It wasn’t until Mak’to’ran stepped forward did he feel a vacancy behind him in his Pefbar that revealed an even greater portion of the chamber behind them over a steep wall.

But it wasn’t the proportions of the chamber that caught his attention. It was the pieces of equipment and holographic schematics displayed as if they were museum pieces. Many he did not fully recognize, but one was a set of Era’tran battle armor in a configuration he had seen only once. It was a theoretical prototype that, to his knowledge, had never been constructed. It was here physically, while other such prototypes and legends were displayed in holo…including genetic profiles.

“What is this?” Mak’to’ran asked in awe.

“The true work of a leader. If we are to seal the rift in the V’kit’no’sat then we can no longer be chasing the memory of the Zak’de’ron. Others would have us forget, and those younger than you have no memory of their own to pull on, but true strength comes in overcoming our adversaries. Not in burying them.”

“You are attempting to unlock their technology?” Mak’to’ran said as he walked down the road-like strip looking at a ship schematic. It held the typical tuning fork shape of the Era’tran, but the more subtle design alterations were unfamiliar.

“No. We are attempting to match it…or duplicate it in some cases. When we do we can let go what they have built and replace it with our own, eliminating the possibility of…unknowns in the programing,” Hamob said, referencing the unlocking of the Terraxis defense station.

“You are working on more than programming.”

“We must become the masters and reforge the V’kit’no’sat. If we do not our mistake in eliminating the Zak’de’ron will forever weaken us. If you look there,” he indicated with a telepathic prompt, “you will see work on new psionics mimicking what we witnessed the Zak’de’ron Zen’zat and even the Zak’de’ron themself use during the war. This is of my own doing, but if I can do this…”

“Then others might be pursuing such research as well,” Mak’to’ran finished. “Do any of our Zen’zat possess these?”

“Not yet. We are making progress, but we do not have a full codex yet. Nor can we match our work to the lingering code in our current Zen’zat. It is compressed in a way that will not reveal itself until we gain an understanding of the compression or the psionics manifest.”

“Has training been undertaken to provoke the latter?”

“No. Those few I am working with do not include Zen’zat. This is a private endeavor that must remain private.”

“As you wish. Why must this be done in secret? Why not in conjunction with our current research?”

“Our current research is pathetic. Stunted by the lack of a true enemy and the knowledge that whatever we create will be shared with the others. Why do the work when we can wait and claim their advancements?”

Mak’to’ran tore his eyes away from the wealth of knowledge on display around him and looked into the slightly redder skin of the elder Era’tran.

“And what of our psionics?”

Hamob smiled, revealing the sharp teeth typical of their race.

“We cannot grant ourselves upgrades without the approval of the conclave…”

“You risk much,” Mak’to’ran said respectfully. “Why are such extremes necessary?”

“Because the V’kit’no’sat were intended to be a sword forged to cut away the Hadarak plague on this galaxy. We were not the forgers. The Zak’de’ron were…and to a lesser extent the Oso’lon and J’gar. The Era’tran cannot match any of those three, but if we are to save not only ourselves but other races with us, we need to actually be dominant rather than just claiming to be.”

As he said the words the claws on the end of his six fingers glowed a violent red and Mak’to’ran could feel the energy coursing through them with his Pefbar as a similar strike of both adrenaline and trepidation flowed through him.

Hamob was already in violation of Conclave edict, and possession of an unwarranted psionic was punishable by death.

“You disapprove?” he asked, letting go the energy flow and returning his claws to their normal dull state.

Mak’to’ran was slow to answer.

“You are planning something significant, and I trust in your wisdom, but I do not fully understand this.”

“There were once three founders…reduced to two. Two that have done more faking than is healthy. The V’kit’no’sat must have a leader that is genuine if the rifts are to be healed. We must become that third leader.”

“The others will not accept it,” Mak’to’ran warned, but still respectful of the fact that Hamob had been working on this for a long time and knew more than he did. “We will be culled.”

“How did the Rit’ko’sor hurt us so badly?” he asked, apparently changing topics.

“They concealed their full strength and struck without warning.”

“Oh, there was warning. The arrogant refused to see it, but it was there. They all but forced them into it.”

“What don’t I know?”

“A great deal, but it’s also something that should be familiar. Tell me why we haven’t recovered the territory from prior to the Rit’ko’sor rebellion.”

“Rooting out the Hadarak is not a simple task.”

“Not the interior. On the rim.”

“Resource priority has been to the core.”

“Partially correct, but an expansion into former colonies would aid our growth and that in turn would swell our forces for the costly retakes of Hadark-ceased territory. So why haven’t we done so, even at a gradual pace, since the rebellion?”

“Because of population restrictions.”

“Precisely. And what purpose do they serve?”

“Ensuring that we make better use of the worlds we have than to splurge in reckless expansion,” Mak’to’ran said, repeating a well known explanation that even he did not fully accept.

“If we are truly dominant, we will not be reckless,” Hamob explained. “The restrictions are there because of fear of a repeat of the Rit’ko’sor. They multiplied beyond mandate and hid that fact from us.”

“And now the increased scrutiny is manifested in population restrictions.”

“That and more. Our mandate is to fight and one day purge the Hadarak from this galaxy. The latter is a fantasy without the Zak’de’ron, but the fact that we are not even trying is tantamount to treason. The V’kit’no’sat were created to fight the Hadarak. Not contain them. Not manage them. To fight and destroy them if possible. If population expansion is necessary to accomplish that, then we should be doing it. Forestalling the growth of strength in favor of other agendas is an abandonment of our duty…and it is a duty. Dominance is not about privilege. We exercise plenty, but the root of our position is responsibility.”

Hamob gestured upwards to the extremely large map of the galaxy that floated near the ceiling of the chamber and stood many times Mak’to’ran’s height with several details on it that drew a curious glance from him.

“When we assumed dominance of the galaxy, its protection fell to us. It does not matter if the other races are grateful, despise us, or are ignorant to our existence. It is our galaxy, and we are required to defend it against the Hadarak. It is our purpose, and when we destroyed the Zak’de’ron we compromised that purpose in favor of other things…”

“Thus the rift formed.”

“And it has been with us ever since. Only a reconciliation with our mandate can save the V’kit’no’sat. As far as for the Era’tran…we cannot fight the Hadarak alone, and we will not step down from this responsibility. We are V’kit’no’sat, in every breath we take, and if we must fight to our extinction to counter the Hadarak we will. Most Era’tran that thought otherwise have been dealt with over previous years, though not through the dishonorable tactics now employed by the arrogant.”

“You referred to assassinations earlier.”

“Such things within the Era’tran were dealt with long ago. The arrogance in us is limited to misguided fools that are dealt with in other ways. We will not turn barbaric, but they will not be allowed to lead. My sources elsewhere indicated that there are assassinations in other races designed to prop up the lies of the Oso’lon and J’gar. This has created even more mistrust, both between races and within them. Fractures are forming everywhere now that Terraxis has surfaced and panic is beginning to ensue. The unwise are reacting to it, and there are many ways this will end badly.”

“Few to the good?”

“Only one to the good. We must reforge the V’kit’no’sat and do so without compromising the Hadarak border.”

“How?”

“What you see around you is part of that answer, but our time is now up. Terraxis had hastened the fall and we must act quickly and decisively if even a part of the V’kit’no’sat are to survive. I do not know how this will play out, but if we are to have a chance the Era’tran must hold strong. I have gone to great lengths to insure that we will not fall from within, but if others turn on us from the outside we will slay the traitors until the last of us draws breath no more. We will not run to survive. We are V’kit’no’sat. We will prove our dominance or we will fall. There is no other path for the Era’tran.”

“Are you speaking of a preemptive strike?”

“No. I am speaking of forging new bonds. The fractures in the other races come with loyalists, many of whom I have contact with through their Zen’zat. We must support them and they us, but they are under threat of death if they act overtly. We must be the ones to call the Oso’lon and J’gar to task, but we must shore up some of our allies first, and for that I require you.”

“Have you always led the Era’tran from the shadows?” Mak’to’ran asked bluntly.

“I am not the only one, but few are privy to the contents of this chamber. The Yaern’ek are our front line, not our leadership. Others do not understand this, but they replicate it in part. I need you to be our frontline ambassador, the focal point for reforging the V’kit’no’sat. You have already been cleansed of bias for your part in the defeat at Terraxis. Many will malign you, blaming you for the failure, but those that review the records themselves will know otherwise. You are not part of that treason, and as such you are a badly needed stabilizing rod for others to cling to.”

“You wish me to go to Itaru then?”

“No. You will go everywhere but the capitol. You do not answer to them, nor do the Era’tan. We are taking the lead now and your actions will reflect that even if we are not ready to publically state it.”

“I do not fully understand, but I accept the responsibility and the danger inherent. Tell me what I need to do.”

Hamob huffed. “You will learn as you go. Not everything we have prepared is needed of you now, and it is best that you not know in case you are captured and interrogated. See to it that does not happen.”

“That depends greatly on where I am going.”

“To the Dan’chey.”

Mak’to’ran frowned, which amounted to a lowering of his eye ridges and a splaying of his lip flaps.

“They are loyal to the J’gar.”

“Oh. So sure are you?”

“The J’gar hold a tight bond to any aquatic race.”

“Bonds and suppression often are misconstrued, but the Dan’chey are amphibious. That fact has always put them somewhat askew from the J’gar block. I know there is considerable dissatisfaction within them. You will go to meet with a contact on Kiostaq and begin ferreting out the arrogant from the oppressed.”

“And then?”

“You will forge the new bonds, not I. I will advise and assist, but you are our anointed leader. Make of it what you will.”

“How am I to do that without stepping on your concealed plans?”

“That is my responsibility. We must become dominate in truth again. Let that be your guiding motivation in all things and we will back whatever agreements you forge.”

“Do you intend to provide me with further information?”

“Some, but you must feel this out. Know that the V’kit’no’sat as they are supposed to be exist no longer. The death is ongoing, though not complete. We must gather the remains and create the empire anew. Do not let yourself think otherwise. Salvage what you can.”

“What of the sponsor behind Terraxis?”

“I do not know who it is, but at this point it almost doesn’t matter. The rift is already here. It is but a symptom.”

“What of their tame Hadarak?”

“That is something others will explore. Your focus must be on reforging the bond that defines us.”

“You are going to their Preserve?”

“Not me, but we cannot let a potential avenue to defeating, let alone controlling the Hadarak be squandered. It is possible that someone else savvy to the forming rift has conducted this research privately in order to protect it…if not, we will acquire the knowledge through other means. Many have important tasks. This is yours. Do not underestimate the importance of it.”

“I am not. But I feel my previous assignment is unfulfilled.”

“That’s because it is. You must choose to let it go. This is more important. If you fail…if we fail…then the deaths of those at Terraxis will be a small omen of what is to come. Honor the dead by reducing the internecine as much as possible. The lives you save going forward will acquit your duty far more than by returning to Terraxis.”

“How will I travel to Kiostaq? My absence from the conclave will not be easily tolerated.”

“No it will not, and your movements will be monitored. The communications lag will give you a window of opportunity before forces can be summoned to retrieve you. Be wary of it and stay ahead of your pursuit.”

“What of my contacts?”

“They will take their own risks. The focus will be on you, and if you succeed in your mission you will become the most hunted individual within the V’kit’no’sat. Branded a rebel and given a death sentence eventually. The Era’tran will support you, but you must prove yourself superior in intellect in order to survive. We have Sav. Those that do not should not be able to corner you.”

“And those that do will be an even match,” he said, knowing that the Oso’lon would refute that.

“There is an augmented Na’shor waiting for you. It has been reconfigured with more gravity drives and less weapons.”

“A courier ship?”

“With enough firepower to discourage the curious. The crew are loyal and know the danger they face. You can rely on them.”

“A single ship then?”

“The dominant do not need escorts.”

Mak’to’ran huffed a laugh, knowing that was not always true, but also realizing the impression it would make if he defiantly went around V’kit’no’sat territory in a single vessel that couldn’t be caught.

“I leave now?”

“Soon. There are few technical updates you need to be informed of…in addition to your new psionics,” Hamob said as a portion of floor to the far left opened up and a medical station assembled from the components below.

“Why not?” Mak’to’ran scoffed. “They will be out to kill me anyway. What have you created?”

“The Saroto’kanse’vam are tailored for cutting only, but you will also be given Nakane and Jumat.”

Mak’to’ran stiffened, realizing the level of treason that involved.

“We do not plan to give all Era’tran these,” Hamob cautioned. “Not as default. But those who earn them should be allowed the power…and given the tasks you face, you need to be able to defend yourself against a multitude of threats.”

“They will still take time to master…”

“Then I hope you learn quickly. Whenever you are off your ship assume assassins lurk in the shadows. If you have cause to use them, please record your biological stats. I’m curious to see how the Sav interacts with them.”

“Do you not have all 3?”

“I have only the Saroto’kanse’vam, as will most Era’tran eventually. I have not earned the other two.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I plan…I do little physical combat. If I am ambushed here these will give me an advantage,” Hamob said, flashing his glowing talons again, “but I will be on friendly ground. The others are reserved for those who travel into enemy lairs.”

“Am I the first?”

“You are the 19th, but the first to be given all three. Step inside and brace yourself for some discomfort. The Jumat tissue is extensive in order to get the power output we desired. Yours will outstrip all other races per volume save for the Zen’zat, and it will take some considerable adjustments for your body to acclimate.”

“I will endure what is necessary.”

“You will endure it afterwards. The upgrades are quick enough,” Hamob said as Mak’to’ran stepped inside. With a thought he brought the numerous containment arms in around the younger Era’tran and locked them in place. Two smaller tendrils extended and touched his tail and upper back, making firm contact and allowing the microscopic probes into his body.

Mak’to’ran froze, his body out of his control and numb to what was occurring. He stood in a mental haze until the grogginess faded some time later, though how long was lost on him. As the numbing dissipated he felt a tightness all over and dropped to a knee as his legs had been depleted of most of their strength.

His breathing was heavy, and though there was little pain associated with it he was exhausted.

“Take care. You are weak and need to recover. You will do so here for the next few hours. When you are able to walk without drawing undue attention you will depart for your ship. Right now come with me and make use of your rest learning of the future of the Era’tran.”

Mak’to’ran forced himself to stand up, stretching his tail out and heavily relying on its counterbalance as he took tiny steps. After a few seconds he forced his body to override the shock of the changes and obey him as it should, though at great mental effort. He followed Hamob to the other side of the room to a prepared recovery station with many liquids and foodstuffs available. With a telepathic gesture he told Mak’to’ran to begin eating while the elder Era’tran began bringing up holograms of new technology and old secrets, lecturing in detail while Mak’to’ran absorbed the nutrients and the wisdom…the latter of which would be essential to accomplishing his still vague mission.

6

July 2, 3603

Kiostaq System (Dan’chey territory)

Abroski

When Mak’to’ran’s Na’shor entered the system there was no resistance. The Era’tran vessel was V’kit’no’sat and this was V’kit’no’sat territory even if it wasn’t a shared system, as many were within the empire. While the various races often fought for dominance they did not actually shoot one another, nor were they combative about territory. They were a united empire and as such they could move around freely throughout all its systems.

The Kiostaq System was a medium-developed one. Four major planets and a population of some 78 billion Dan’chey. It wasn’t their capitol or regional powerhouse, just one of hundreds of thousands of V’kit’no’sat systems that fed the giant industrial engine that kept the Hadarak at bay, and this one in particular produced a high level of Solari from a pair of rich stars. One was at system’s center while the other was in a very high orbit. When the planets orbited between them they experience very hot climates and no night…then when they orbited around to the far side they experienced more of a ‘normal’ thermal cycle as they bled off the excess heat.

Right now Kiostaq was in the ‘cool’ period of its orbit, and it wasn’t something the Dan’chey liked. There were spots of snow visible and Mak’to’ran knew the amphibians absolutely hated frozen water, as did most aquatics, but the Dan’chey also disliked cold water with a passion, meaning that the artificial bodies of water created on Abroski would not be highly populated at this time of year.

Pulling up thermal imagery of the planet he saw the few hot spots where the Dan’chey would be. According to records this planet had originally possessed deep reservoirs of water beneath the dry surface, but not enough for it to pool up top. Rather than bring in more water from afar, something that was painstaking to do, they created empty, artificial basins on the surface then pumped the water up from below ground and into them. Thus the oceans on this world were formed in a very chaotic design that maximized the coastlines where the Dan’chey preferred to reside, never getting too far from the land or the water.

Sections of those oceans were being heated from beneath, but not the entire body of water. It was a stopgap measure to allow the planet to survive with amicably cool waters until they rotated past the coldest slice of their orbit, then the natural solar radiation would take over the heating and eventually the oceans would have to be cooled to keep them from boiling off during the height of the hot season…but at least then all the oceans were accessible. Right now it looked to Mak’to’ran that the world was in hibernation save for the industrial centers located deep within the landmasses.

It was to one of those that he took a drop pod, happy to be dealing with land rather than water. Era’tran could swim well enough with their tail, but they had almost no agility in the water and that left them vulnerable to flanking attacks. If aquatic work was necessary they often sent Zen’zat and only reluctantly went themselves when needed, operating in packs to diminish their disadvantage.

But today that would not be a concern, for the coordinates given to Mak’to’ran upon arrival by his contact had him landing on dry ground with a few inches of snow covering it. He walked out with his armored ‘sandals’ crunching it while the rest of him drank in the coolness through the gaps between his undeployed armor as he headed for the inner gate of the landing area that held many ships and many more open pads. This was a mining outpost and saw a high rate of orbit to surface transport, so even though his drop pod was conspicuously not Dan’chey his arrival still blended in with the traffic and his presence on the pad was barely noticed until he got indoors.

When he passed through the atmospheric shield set just inside them he hit a warm, very humid mass of air moments before he was greeted by a pair of the low to the ground quadrupeds. They had flat, heart-shaped heads and legs that stuck out sideways before dropping six-clawed feet that had the ability to grip most smooth surfaces enough to suspend their entire body weight…which wasn’t much, but they still were far heavier than a Zen’zat despite the fact they appeared to be much more massive. Their bodies were described as ‘hollow’ to anyone who had fought them hand to hand, for they were very light but equal in length to a Brat’mar when measured from nose tip to the end of their stubby tails.

“Welcome Era’tran. What business do you have here?”

“I am expected. Tion’shu instructed me to come here.”

The two Dan’chey exchanged quick glances, their eyelids flicking closed twice each as they conversed telepathically.

“Follow,” one of them said as it spun around in place and began walking down the ovoid hallway that was almost too short for Mak’to’ran. His head came near to brushing the ceiling if he stood up as tall as he could, but his normal walking gait wasn’t affected. The Dan’chey he passed by, however, did not want to risk the larger Era’tran stepping on them and chose to walk up along the curved walls until he passed by, and did so with such ease that Mak’to’ran took a moment to watch them with his Pef’bar as they passed beyond his eyesight.

He didn’t have much experience with Dan’chey, nor many of the aquatics for that matter, but he’d met them before. Seeing so many in one place was unusual, for he’d never been on one of their private worlds, rather one of the communal areas of others where the races intermixed. There they often wore heat suits to boost their skin temperature, but here most were moving around nude save for a few ornamental sleeves around the lower portion of their legs or tail.

Their orange/green skin looked more dirty than rough. Every part of their bodies was smooth and built to move through water, but their coloration was almost camouflage for the dry desert climate they avoided…that was until he passed a female and saw her semi-translucent body glowing with reflected light in a white hue that completely clashed with the males. She looked artificial in construction while they looked to be a part of the natural environment, but both were identical in size and movement characteristics. The difference between them was one of strength, with the females being notoriously sloth-like. It was hard for them to achieve self-sufficiency, and many only did the bare minimum to sustain themselves as group consensus fought to consume their every motivation.

They operated with a very active telepathic hive mind, constantly in conversation with one another while the males were less involved. They operated more as individuals while the females behaved as units in a larger identity, but all Dan’chey were held by close bonds to one another. The idea of there being factions within them was counterintuitive, but Hamob had told him there was a division and that it was something the Dan’chey did not tolerate lightly. Thus far they had not found a way to reconcile it…which was why Mak’to’ran had been sent here.

They weren’t a powerful faction within the V’kit’no’sat, but they were one of the oldest. Always a secondary to the aquatics, they took on mundane duties that others usually didn’t want, choosing to support rather than lead in most cases. In combat they were capable, but only had Lachka as psionic weaponry. The others they possessed were defensive based, though they did not have Nakane. Those biological shields were reserved for the rarified few, most notably the Oso’lon, but a few adaptations had been made for the Brat’mar and others to give them partial coverage. The most annoying Psionic they possessed was Da’nu, which allowed them to create fields that would interfere with Pefbar. It wasn’t Rentar, which could disable Lachka, but Pefbar was required to use Lachka and unless one had very strong Pefbar fields the Dan’chey could put up a large Da’nu and cut off vision of both their body and the surrounding area, reducing one to having to rely on their eyes to see and making most Lachka attacks pointless…though they couldn’t use their own, for it was simultaneously jammed.

Before the Rit’ko’sor rebellion the Dan’chey had been paired with them to give the weak Rit’ko’sor some additional defensive capability, and when the surprise attack came on the empire the Dan’chey were not targeted. Likewise they did not actively attack the Rit’ko’sor, instead negotiating to help with logistics and transit so they did not have to take part in the actual killing. They’d lost a lot of standing for that decision, but it had been tolerated…for having worlds that the Rit’ko’sor would not hit had been badly needed once the extent of the first attack wave became common knowledge.

The Dan’chey had lost no territory to attack, but they’d been forced to abandon some worlds on the rim when the empire’s borders contracted…a form of punishment, but also a necessity at the time, it was argued. Their population had not taken a hit, so while their standing was still that of a second rate member their numbers were larger than most, though still capped under a firm population max determined by the Elder Conclave.

Because of that history the Dan’chey were seen as the least likely to rebel, and if a new V’kit’no’sat were to be forged such loyalty was badly needed.

Mak’to’ran followed through many ovoid hallways until coming to a down-chute. It was another hallway, but one that declined at a steep angle that had not been built for Era’tran and he sensed many eyes watching as his guide stepped over the rim and into the water flow, standing steady for a moment before releasing his grip and allowing the water to carry him down in a slide.

Mak’to’ran huffed his amusement and stepped over the shallow lip, his feet smashing down into the water that was not going to move his heavy mass. He walked forward a few steps then jumped forward onto his chest, using the slickness of the water to allow him to slide with his rear legs flaying out to the sides in order to keep him from gaining too much speed as he slid down the tunnel with it curving multiple times, making it hard to determine his ultimate direction of movement.

Eventually the decline shallowed out and the water ended in a deeper pool that barely came up to Mak’to’ran’s knees as he stood up and walked out of it. He followed his guide on further, eventually coming to a series of chambers that were open to the air of a dome that had a lot of vegetation growing. Mak’to’ran pushed his way into it following a path that was not high enough to accommodate his upper body. He broke as few branches as he could, but some were simply unavoidable. Era’tran never came here so such concerns had not been addressed in the design…though private worlds were often built to discourage other races from coming.

Or at least to make their visiting interesting to watch.

And there were hundreds of eyes watching him, three per Dan’chey as he came into a clearing with many of the locals almost stacked on top of each other as they were standing so close in a semi-circle around the area. Their legs were actually overlapping, with their central bodies covering almost all the available ground, making it impossible for Mak’to’ran to move anywhere but into the center without stepping on them.

His warrior instincts flared a bit. They were not match for an Era’tran…especially with his recent psionic upgrades…but there were so many of them here and in the vegetation beyond to make the thought prudent. He didn’t think they were going to attack him, not unarmed as they were, but their combined Lachka could be troublesome if they jointly used it against him.

“Which of you is Tion’shu?” he asked when none of them spoke and his escort took his place in the living carpet of Dan’chey that were all male.

I am here, a telepathic voice said, then it took on a weird resonance as more minds joined it. We speak as one. You were sent to us. Why?

“You were part of the V’kit’no’sat prior to the Era’tran, yet your standing is less than ours. There are many theories as to why, now I ask you.”

We do not seek leadership. We seek to do our duty. Others have hindered us from doing so. Our standing has diminished because of this.

“What duty do you refer to?”

To combat the Hadarak and stand by our brothers in the V’kit’no’sat against any and all threats to us and the galaxy.

“Then the Era’tran are in agreement with you. What are your thoughts concerning Terraxis?”

There is a traitor amongst us. We do not know who it is.

“Nor do we. V’kit’no’sat are not supposed to distrust one another. We are meant to be a unified force. This doubt weakens us.”

It is inescapable. Someone has betrayed the collective.

“We are meant to be an empire, a brotherhood, not a collective. We each have our strengths. A collective seeks to make all the same.”

Many seek a collective. We do not.

“How many?”

The females.

Mak’to’ran raised his head slightly in shock. He had no idea the division within the Dan’chey was gender based.

“Explain.”

They believe telepathic linkage should be constant, we do not. Likewise they believe our ties to other races within the V’kit’no’sat should be binding and restrictive. The Oso’lon and J’gar hold too much power. The Hjar’at are too closed minded. Some need culling, others need uplifting. They believe the differences between us need to be forcibly reduced.

“We are different races. We cannot be the same.”

There is some merit in what they say. Most is unintelligent prejudice. They believe they should share leadership in the Dan’chey without having earned it. They believe in birthright collective.

“Our databases hold many examples of that stupidity playing out in extinct races. Why can they not learn from such?”

They do not wish to learn that which contradicts their beliefs. Most of our females do not live beyond 400 years because they will not work diligently enough to maintain their own bodies. Such individuals cannot be trusted to maintain our civilization when they cannot succeed in such simplistic tasks.

“Hamob told me to come here. He is one of the eldest Era’tran. Did you request our counsel?”

The Dan’chey females are a problem that we do not know how to counter, but it is our problem. We see similar trends in the V’kit’no’sat as a whole. That is what concerns the Era’tran. Your race is the most stable. We need to solve our own internal division, but we also wish to help solve the greater problem. What counsel can you offer on the latter?

“The same as I would offer on the former. Some individuals do not see because they are ignorant. Others do not see because they do not wish to. Ignorance can be cured with knowledge. Stupidity cannot, and must be forcibly kept from causing damage. Do you still maintain control over Dan’chey assets?”

Males do, but situations vary from system to system. Some are compromising and allowing females more duties that are not being met. We see the same thing in the V’kit’no’sat. We have not yet reclaimed our former borders from before the Rit’ko’sor purging. We do not press into Hadarak territory as we once did. Our research stagnates. Many things are not as they should be. We do not know how to rectify this.

“I can offer some answers, but as V’kit’no’sat should always do, we share responsibilities and contribute what we can where we can. We do not expect all answers to come from one, but we expect all the answers one has.”

What are the Era’tran doing to combat this ‘collective’ philosophy?

“A great deal,” Mak’to’ran said, raising his short arms up and surging the energy from the glands in his hands into them. They glowed red with a sheen of energy covering them that would eat through almost any matter and most shields. The light was so bright he could see tiny flickering reflections in the wide eyes of the Dan’chey. “We must contribute what we can, and the Era’tran will lead where others refuse to.”

You are in violation of conclave edict. You are not supposed to have Saroto’kanse’vam.

“Nor are you to have Nakane.”

We do not possess Nakane.

Mak’to’ran sighed heavily, though the sound of it was raspy enough to almost be belligerent.

“You should have been given it long ago. At the very least a pathway should have been established for the elite among you to earn it. How many of you have died in battle because you did not have the secondary shielding? And what reason is there for you not to have it?”

It is not our place to supersede the Conclave. The decision was made long ago.

“Then I am unmaking it here and now,” Mak’to’ran said, feeling a cascade of varying emotions ripple through the Dan’chey. “If the Oso’lon and J’gar will not lead us properly, then the Era’tran will do so…and those who are loyal to the purpose of the V’kit’no’sat will join us. Those arrogant enough to kill to maintain the collective,” he said, slashing his hands through the air convincingly, “will no longer have a psionic advantage to hide behind. V’kit’no’sat are warriors, not assassins and traitors. We will air out the poisons within us and right past wrongs. We will reforge the V’kit’no’sat before the treason of Terraxis destroys us all, then we will put our full attention back on the Hadarak where it should have been all along.”

7

What are you specifically asking of us?

It was a question that Mak’to’ran himself didn’t have an answer to, given that Hamob hadn’t told him much, but as instructed he was to lead…and how was for him to determine.

“What we all must do. We must right our own races and eliminate the corruption within us. The Era’tran have done so already, and now it is time for the Dan’chey as well. The reforging of the empire cannot occur unless each piece of it is intact, and a broken Dan’chey will threaten the rest of us with false bonds.”

If we knew how to achieve this we would have done so already. Telling us to take action is only feasible if we have an action to take and for some reason have not. Without a course to follow your words are hollow.

“Then a course of action must be forged. If you cannot construct one yourselves, then it is fortunate that I am here.”

Our leaders are not.

“We are V’kit’no’sat all. This is as good a place to begin as any. If you return to form others will see and mirror you. The question is what exactly is your proper form,” Mak’to’ran said, looking around at the packed bodies. “We must fight the Hadarak. We must defend and cull this galaxy as needed to acquit our responsibility. What part in this role do the Dan’chey play? If none, then you do not belong in the V’kit’no’sat.”

We contribute much.

“Specify and list,” Mak’to’ran said, raising his head a bit higher and thoroughly dwarfing the flat quadrupeds.

Resource acquisition. Fleet construction. Ordinance production…

“Stop. All three of those are the actions of builders, not warriors. We must be both, but some are more inclined to one over another. Where do the Dan’chey as a group lie, not just you as individuals?”

We create stability. Impediments must be removed through combat, but such victories are short-lived without infrastructure created to cement them.

“There lies your answer and your purpose. You are not the first ones to enter a fight, but fight you will when necessary, and judging from your history you are not without skills. You do not match the Era’tran in combat, but you need not. We are a team, and as such we contribute how best we can. If I gave you a choice between attacking an enemy world, attacking an enemy fleet, colonizing a conquered world, or attacking and colonizing an enemy world which would be your preference?”

It would depend on the purpose of the attack.

“Assume a threat needed removed from a region in order to pacify it.”

An attack to annihilate or an attack to confiscate?

“Annihilate and make the world ours.”

Attack and colonize.

“Curious, I would have thought you would choose to colonize after the fighting.”

We prefer building, but when destruction is necessary we will not shirk our duty. We do not require others when a fight is before us.

Mak’to’ran smiled, barring his teeth and uttering a low, satisfied growl.

“Then you are V’kit’no’sat, for we are the ones to take the hard duties upon us and any race that cannot or will not does not belong in the empire. They can help as an ally, but to be V’kit’no’sat means a great deal more. The Dan’chey will do their part of a combined battle strategy, but are less likely to be the first to dive into a fight?”

We are able, but we do not share the Hjar’at’s recklessness.

“None do, but they have cultivated their weakness into a strength. Now it is on you to do the same. Your females are the problem, you say? Then make them an asset.”

They are unwise. This is not an asset.

“I am not speaking of their madness, but rather of their natural tendencies. Find what is beneficial in them and cultivate it while destroying the rest. There can be no middle ground. Either their actions are aiding the fight against the Hadarak or they are not. Let that be your guide.”

We will not kill our own to remove the corruption, and we do not know how to correct it.

“If we begin killing each other that only serves to weaken us and the Hadarak can sense weakness. They will exploit it, if they are not even doing so now. I have heard rumor of ships leaving the front out of fear of internal fighting. The Era’tran are not going to start a fight, but if a fight is brought to us we will finish it. And I expect the same of all loyal V’kit’no’sat. Our bonds have been corrupted and made so fragile that we condone selective killings of our own…this cannot be permitted. Only those who strike against us or disobey edicts are condemned to death. Not those who think differently. Your females must be enlightened…and if they will not learn, they must be sidelined.”

There are more of them than us.

“Is that a problem?”

Not if it were a fight, but their telepathic presence is strong. Only in clusters such as this are we free to think clearly.

“Yet even now you speak with a combined telepathic voice. Are you so uncapable of being individuals that you have lost your sanity?”

“No we have not,” an individual Dan’chey directly in front of Mak’to’ran said with the telepathic echo now gone entirely…or more likely just not being transmitted to him. “It is a strength of ours that we prefer to use.”

“Perhaps your females have become over dependent upon it. Do you not train to resist outside influence?”

“Our elite troops do.”

“But the rest do not?”

“It would be counter-intuitive to our racial bond.”

“Wrong. A bond is not a chain forcing you together. It is a choice. A choice made by individuals.”

There was hesitation in the Dan’chey, and even without them transmitting to him Mak’to’ran could sense an epiphany forming.

“The collective is weak because its components are suppressed.”

“Quite right. And if your females die so young, are they really an asset? If the objective is to fight the Hadarak then they have a responsibility to strengthen themselves…not each other, but the individual. To do that they must behave as an individual, and if they have never learned then they must be taught through isolation.”

Mak’to’ran knew that was unpopular the moment he said the word, and given the tight telepathic bonds between the Dan’chey he could image why.

“We rarely are out of contact with others, and at the times we are it is a disadvantage.”

“I am stronger fighting with fellow Era’tran, but that does not make me weak individually. Construct training chambers here that block your Ikrid. Practice accomplishing tasks individually. Then when your individual skills have developed further, attempt group tasks and see how much more powerful you become. Your telepathic connection is a strength, but it can only be increased through individualized training.”

“Theoretically your point is accurate, but the Dan’chey have not operated in such a way before.”

“Then it is time to begin. If you are successful your strength and experience will transmit easily to the others. The key is in finding the truth. Truth will strength the Dan’chey, lies will poison it. To purge the poison from you, seek the truth. Experiment. Discover. Train.”

“It would be easier if you set up that initial training, for we fear we are blind to the perspectives you seek us to find.”

“That I can do, but linger here long I cannot. I have been recalled to Itaru and am ignoring that call. I transmitted a full report from Terraxis, so they are not lacking in knowledge, but the Era’tran will no longer play games in the Conclave. The V’kit’no’sat stand on the precipice of self-destruction and I will not waste an hour. The next few I spend with you will be valuable, but if you cannot determine the truth and course of action for your race with my initial assistance then you are doomed. We are dominant because we can learn and adapt. Those who cannot are not truly V’kit’no’sat.”

“Then we start now,” the Dan’chey said as everyone in the room started to move. For a moment it looked like the floor had become molten, but in reality is was well coordinated tiny movements on all assembled that allowed them to begin exiting the arena in the quickest and most efficient manner possible with all but the single individual before him motion.

“I am Vitobok. Instruct me what to do and I will insure that your lessons are put to the best use.”

“I require an engineering interface.”

“Follow,” he said, with all the other Dan’chey suddenly moving away from the Era’tran. They doubled and even tripled up on top of each other’s backs to give him a clear path out, and Mak’to’ran was pleasantly surprised with their coordination. Telepathy was a powerful tool, and while it may have gone awry for the Dan’chey, they had clearly gained from it as well. Era’tran had never moved so efficiently, and he made a note to record a few thoughts for study later.

V’kit’no’sat aided one another in growing their strength, and that included stealing good ideas when they found them.

12 days later…

Mak’to’ran returned to his ship for the final time, having finished his brief but vital assistance in getting the Dan’chey loyalists squared away. As it turned out their underlying problem truly was one of perspective. Having the minds of others constantly influencing ones decisions came with such perils that it wasn’t worth the benefit. They needed some periods of isolation and he’d helped them design not only training programs but revised habitats to allow them to sleep outside the hive mind that they utilized…for they’d gotten so used to transmitting that they’d even been in each other’s dreams.

That should have been a warning sign there, but the Dan’chey civilization was so different from the Era’tran that they just couldn’t see it. Bringing in an outsider had been wise, and while he wasn’t sure about the exact reason Hamob had sent him here, the Elder Era’tran had been quite correct in doing so. All these Dan’chey had needed was some perspective and a nudge in the right direction. While he didn’t know how they’d progress in his absence, the real question was how the changes made here would permeate throughout their race.

Had it been Era’tran it would have taken a very long time, but their ability to blend together into almost a unified consciousness should speed up the process considerably…even with the limitations he had suggested imposing upon it. Still, with their population numbers and such imbedded habits the changes would not occur quick enough. The V’kit’no’sat empire was huge and even the small Dan’chey piece of it was massive, but these few here were headed in the right direction.

He only hoped that planting the seed would be enough.

As Mak’to’ran flew up to orbit in his drop pod he got a message from the Dan’chey he’d been working with. The leaders on the planet had not been privy to his mission here given the fact that it had been a local faction that arranged his visit, but it seemed a follow-up message from Itaru had arrived hours ago instructing that Mak’to’ran be acquired and forcibly transported to the capitol. His present location was cited as being ‘outside Era’tran territory’ but beyond that there were no specifics…until now.

The loyal Dan’chey had found out and just sent him a warning detailing a return message the planetary leaders had sent out through the Urrtren to all V’kit’no’sat systems stating that Mak’to’ran was here.

He purred an annoyed growl, checking with his Na’shor and confirming no intercepts of his pod were enroute, nor was the local defense fleet moving out of standard patrol routes. It seemed the Dan’chey weren’t interested in trying to detain him themselves, but rather just tagging his location so that others could pursue and deal with the Era’tran vessel. The Dan’chey had several insystem that were of similar strength, but Era’tran ranked high enough in reputation that thankfully the locals weren’t going to be stupid enough to try and attack his ship. More likely such an assault would have come on the surface or during his rise to orbit when he was most vulnerable.

That was something he was going to have to be careful about going forward, for now whatever hunters Itaru sent after him would have a trail to follow. If they expected the Era’tran to retrieve him he’d have extra time to work with, for most likely they’d just ignore the order completely. It’d take time for them to realize that given the communication lags and the politics on Itaru, but eventually others would be tasked with retrieving him…and they’d have to send a fairly large fleet in order to be able to take him alive.

When they realized that his ship was faster than normal they’d increase their pursuit or give up the effort, and if they were insistent on placing blame on him for Terraxis they would use his defiance as further ‘proof’ of his failings.

There was more going on in the empire than he realized so he didn’t assume anything firm, but he highly doubted that time was his ally. This mission was probably going to be the simplest, and from here on out he was going to be on the run as Hamob had predicted.

When he returned to the Era’tran Na’shor he got them moving towards the star while he checked the data cache Hamob had given to him with strict instructions not to look at any section ahead of schedule. He saw that there had been no updates sent to it via the Urrtren, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be further instructions waiting for him. So after he filed a report and sent it off to Hamob through the same channels he opened the second tier in the data cache and listened to a holographic recording of Hamob that lasted some 22 minutes.

With his next mission outlined in similar vagueness to the Dan’chey, he instructed the ship’s captain to take them even deeper into the core and back halfway around the spiral that they’d come to the Battiwipot System, which was a shared one between 12 different races including the Poquot, where he would find his next contact.

8

November 5, 3603

Battiwipot System (V’kit’no’sat territory)

Covmenor Station

When Mak’to’ran’s Na’shor entered the Battiwipot System there was a response by the local defense fleet. Ships from both the I’rar’et and Sli’vok contacted him and confirmed that they were not going to enforce the detain order. That surprised him, for he didn’t realize that Hamob and his co-conspirators had spread their influence that far…or perhaps this was totally something unrelated and these two races were responding to Itaru’s orders for their own reasons.

The Sli’vok were impressive enough, but with the I’rar’et announcing not just to him but the entire system that they were not going to attempt to capture him, that meant no one else would either. The I’rar’et were the dominant force in this system and had a third of its total population, not to mention more than half the ships in the defense fleet.

Considering that his destination wasn’t a planet this time but rather a covmenor station, that was even more important for all the races in the system were on the communal station and him boarding it would make him very vulnerable. Even still, he had four other Era’tran with him as he walked off the drop pod into one of the many the hangar bays on the covmenor that were a buzz of traffic servicing all 13 inhabited planets/moons in the system along with the scattering of other orbital stations.

But the covmenor was not only the largest of them, measuring some 800 miles wide and 340 tall, it was the center of commerce and the defacto command post for the V’kit’no’sat in the system despite the fact that it was not heavily protected. The fleet was its defense, and the covmenor was essentially an artificial bit of territory constructed to act as a binding neutral ground between the local races. It had normalized gravity of .9g that was prescribed on all shared facilities, for covmenor stations were not just built for the local races to use, but rather they were an embassy that all 193 races could access.

That meant there could be Oso’lon and J’gar here if they had a reason to be, but Mak’to’ran’s information stated that neither were. This system was not important enough to warrant their presence and any controlling influence was held by the I’rar’et. Having other major races here was redundant and as such there were no Era’tran either, but the number of enclaves onboard put the total number of V’kit’no’sat races at 27 out of a possible 193.

The lighter gravity left Mak’to’ran and the other Era’tran with a slightly bouncy step for a few minutes until they adjusted, then the five of them walked in a single file line through one of the long road-like chasms that ran the perimeter of the squashed sphere of the station. Identical ones existed further in, establishing rings that were bisected by straight ‘spokes’ but Mak’to’ran’s destination didn’t lie on any of them. Sticking near to the outer docking ring, his contact was supposed to be waiting for him in one of the Poquot areas there.

The presence of the five Era’tran did not go unnoticed. While they weren’t the largest race in the empire they were in the upper third mass wise, but their combat prowess and overall influence put them a notch above the I’rar’et and that immediately made them the top ranking individuals in a system that lived and breathed I’rar’et dominance.

No one challenged them as they boarded a neutral Satu that was built large enough to accommodate even Ultras, and the five Era’tran walked out onto the moving shield panel as a group and traveled at high speed along the outermost ring, bypassing millions of V’kit’no’sat going about their business. None bothered to even speak to them until they arrived at their exiting terminal with a considerable amount of walking still before them until they got to their pre-arranged meeting site.

An I’rar’et flew down at them from their own version of a Satu that ran along the ceiling, exiting the wind column and braking its fall with its large wings until it landed on the ground and tucked them up alongside its body. It pointed its beak straight up to the closest of Mak’to’ran’s escorts…including the small weapon it had attached on top of its head. The I’rar’et was security and wore its own battle armor, only partially deployed, but with the stun weapon intact and ready for use at a moment’s notice.

“Your arrival here has been reported. I would not recommend you stay long, but we will ensure your freedom of movement on the covmenor.”

“On whose orders do you defy Itaru’s command?” the escort challenged, looking down on the I’rar’et and the weapon that could render him unconscious with a single shot if he did not deploy his shields fast enough.

“Those loyal to the true V’kit’no’sat,” the I’rar’et answered pithily, but vaguely. “So long as outside ships do not arrive we will ensure your protection. If they do we will not take part in your capture, but we will not fight them on your behalf. We intend to prevent a fight, not start one, so please be as efficient with your time here as possible.”

“We shall,” Mak’to’ran promised, then the I’rar’et took to the air again but didn’t fly far. She circled above them lazily, perhaps reminding those nearby not to get close, though her efforts weren’t necessary. Five Era’tran would be hard for anyone to stop without an army behind them, and all of them were wearing full, undeployed combat armor.

When they eventually left the transit ring the corridors didn’t shrink down to what the Dan’chey had used, rather they were kept large and high to accommodate flight, not just of the I’rar’et but also the Poquot, which were smaller and possessed three wings. It took a long time before any of them were visible in the station’s traffic, but when they got to a certain area of the covmenor the demographics changed quickly and the footpaths opened up with the sky now showing the congestion as the smaller avians were moving about in rapid fashion…but always giving respectful room to any I’rar’et passing through.

Somewhere in the flocks above them was their contact, for he made a telepathic connection to the Era’tran and guided them away from their arrival area to a specific offshoot that took on more traditional Poquot architecture. The covmenor itself was built on a predicated set of parameters meant to facilitate all, but regions within it were customized by those inhabiting them and the deep blues and prickly structures of the Poquot were easily recognizable…as were the individuals sitting on many of those sharp spines at multiple levels of altitude as the Era’tran walked beneath on floors that probably saw little use.

They passed through a forest of pedestals and oddly shaped walls until they came into a more open area that was used to entertain land-dwelling guests. There were none but Poquot here, and they massed in the thousands as they sat on their perches and looked down on the Era’tran save for 15 that were on ground level and arrayed in a 90 degree ‘V’ into which Mak’to’ran walked, leaving his escorts a few steps behind.

“Thank you for coming,” the central Poquot said with a bob of its star-shaped head. “Can you tell us what has happened at Terraxis?”

Mak’to’ran inclined his head slightly. “Have you not read the reports?”

“We know a J’gar Mach’nel was lost and that the attack was repulsed, but we have not seen a full report. More information has come through travelers than through the Urrtren.”

“Battle reports are meant to be freely shared. Has your leadership restricted your access to them?”

“We do not know, but we would like to know the truth from you. What happened?”

“I can give you a copy of my full report,” he said, telepathically signaling for one of his escorts to contact the ship and arrange the transfer immediately, “but the simple truth of the matter is that we expected to fight Zen’zat and found something else. They are Zen’zat in form, but they do not think like them and they possess both knowledge and psionics that they should not. They have also acquired the rumored means of controlling altered Hadarak. We did not observe this, but elsewhere in the territory is a region where they are publicly displayed and under their control. When we arrived at Terraxis these Humans were waiting for us and caused far more damage than they should. If lessons are not learned from our battle records I fear more unnecessary losses in the second wave that will be launching soon.”

“How did they destroy a Mach’nel?”

“By luring us into a trap and using one of our own planetary defense stations that we wrongly believed had been locked down. It was not so and caused massive damage to the Mach’nel that the Humans then expanded upon at great cost to themselves.”

“Rumor has it that the Oso’lon are responsible for these rogue Zen’zat.”

“I cannot confirm that. Suspicion lies on both the Oso’lon and the J’gar, but there may be other treachery at work. I do not know who is responsible, but the treachery is of a staggering level.”

“Who can we trust, fleet commander?”

“Distrust is our greatest enemy, for it corrupts the bonds that make us V’kit’no’sat. Whoever the traitors are, they are a symptom of a much greater threat of internal corruption. The Era’tran have been purging our own distrust and we now stand as a united race. You ask me who you can trust. You can trust us and anyone else who is V’kit’no’sat. Those who behave in another manner are the ones you should be wary of.”

“Are the Oso’lon behaving as they should?”

“Very few races are, and the Oso’lon are not amongst them.”

“Was your attack at Terraxis sabotaged?”

Mak’to’ran huffed angrily, but his ire wasn’t directed at the Poquot.

“You ask if we had traitors within my fleet? No, we did not. The fault was mine for not anticipating a greater threat from the Humans. I presumed our dominance when facing an unknown foe, and we paid a high price for my lack of vision.”

“How are they unknown if they are Zen’zat? Whoever their sponsor is, their methods are our own. What is there that can be new?”

“Would you expect Zen’zat to set up inertial dampening field generators along a jumpline so arriving ships will overshoot and hit the star on arrival?”

The Poquot stirred throughout the chamber, and it looked like there was some silent communicaton going on between their leaders on the floor.

“Did they destroy your scouts in such a manner?”

“I did not send scouts. We proceeded directly to Terraxis to investigate in force. 371 of my ships entered the star and did not resurface. The Mach’nel and others did carrying damage.”

“How did these Zen’zat accomplish this? A single vessel with IDF could not slow a braking maneuver that much.”

“That is why I did not expect it. They constructed a huge amount of infrastructure placed on only the jumpline we entered on. A scout ship would have reported the threat, either directly or through its disappearance. I assumed we were superior enough to defeat any waiting ambush, but this was a level of reckless cunning that Zen’zat do not typically show. They also arranged additional ambushes, some more successful than others, but it wasn’t until they took down the Mach’nel that we lost control of the system. Most of their defense stations were taken down from range unable to defend themselves.”

The Poquot leader got a message, either in telepathy or through the crown-like piece of technology ringing his head, for he looked up and battle records that Mak’to’ran’s ship had just transmitted flashed up into the open air between all the perched avians.

“Thank you. As much as we want to know what has transpired in the past, it is the future that concerns us more. If one of us has been growing an army outside our borders, it is arguably for the purpose of another rebellion. The Rit’ko’sor surprised us all, and we do not want to think of what such a fight would look like if it is the Oso’lon behind this. The damage to the empire would be incalculable.”

“The empire is already dying,” Mak’to’ran urged. “I am here to see what pieces of it can be saved before the full collapse.”

Another Poquot spoke so fast that their leader didn’t have time to respond.

“You refer to a full civil war?”

“I refer to the fact that we have been internally divided ever since the Les’i’kron culling. Information about it and other historical records have been altered or deleted. We made a mistake then, and that mistake prompted the Rit’ko’sor to rebel later. The empire is already fractured from within, and the treason at Terraxis has been born from this. True V’kit’no’sat are united in the cause of confronting the Hadarak threat. How long has it been since Itaru focused on this? Why have we not reclaimed the worlds lost during the distraction of the Rit’ko’sor rebellion? Why have we not been fully adhering to our responsibility, our very reason for existence? I say again, the empire is dying. I am here to salvage those still loyal to our mandate and begin reforging us from within.”

“Itaru would say that is treason,” the Poquot leader said neutrally.

“And I would say that if Itaru abandons our mandate, it is they who are committing treason.”

“Do the Era’tran believe this, or only a faction of you?”

“We stand united.”

“Then why haven’t you confronted the Oso’lon and J’gar in the Conclave? Why have the Era’tran been part of every decision to come down from Itaru weakening us from within?”

“To what exactly do you speak?”

“Territory seizures and assassinations, the latter of which are not publically sanctioned but have to be condoned in order to be allowed to happen.”

“I have heard rumor of such assassinations, but unless it is Era’tran committing them do not assume we are involved. As for the territory seizures, they were in response to violations of protocol. What is at issue there?”

“Why have others not been penalized for the same protocol violations? The Brat’mar overstepped reproduction mandates on three occasions and were allowed to bring their numbers back into alignment without territory loss. We overstepped ours by .004% and lost half a planet.”

“My knowledge of our Elders in the Conclave is limited, but I believe I know the answer. If the penalty is deserved they will support it, but they cannot unilaterally enact a penalty on the Brat’mar or others without the support of the Conclave. If others are blocking for them, the only course of action is to not penalize everyone else. It is not right, but having no penalties would breed even further deviation from protocol.”

“So you justify…”

“No!” Mak’to’ran shouted, causing all 15 Poquot before him to vibrate and stutter step to remain standing. “I do not approve of such actions, but within the Conclave the Era’tran are limited in their ability to right these wrongs if other races are corrupt. It is the corruption we must combat. If it remains, even handedness accomplishes nothing! Our protocols must be just to begin with, then enforced properly. And if we are loyal V’kit’no’sat we will not even think of disobeying protocol…for the protocol will make sense. It will be tailored towards strengthening us in our fight against the Hadarak and others. Population limitations such as we have been operating under run counter to this goal, and they are not the only bad protocol forced upon us by the Conclave.”

“What else is there to do…other than stand by and meekly comply while the major races increase their territory at our expense?”

“In such a situation you have only bad options, but options they are. You can choose to go along with the corruption, either in the short term hoping for a change of state later, or simply accept it for the long term and try to advance through similar dishonorable practices…or perhaps just to survive. I believe many of your leaders are doing just that, while those of you loyal to our mandate feel much as the Rit’ko’sor did prior to their rebellion. The choice they made saw their destruction, but apparently they felt it better to die fighting than to submit.”

“You fought against the Rit’ko’sor and killed more of them than most.”

“I did, and with just cause. They did not strike back at only the corrupt, but at the V’kit’no’sat infrastructure as a whole. They meant to destroy as many of us as they could, whether we were their enemy or not, and I will not stand by while the innocent are targeted. If the Rit’ko’sor were in the right to rebel, they forfeited that right when they went beyond vengeance and began exacting injustice on others similar to or greater than what had been enacted upon them.”

“So we either accept it or die fighting? We can do neither.”

“As I said, you have only bad options. The Poquot are strong compared to other races in the galaxy, but within the V’kit’no’sat you do not have the individual strength nor the allies needed to face this corruption directly and survive. However, you can deal with the corruption inside your own race. There is no reason to allow it to exist.”

“If we do not mirror the other races we will be targeted and accused of treason. The corrupt do not allow the honorable to exist if they can arrange otherwise.”

“Wise words. This isn’t the first time you’ve discussed this?”

“The Poquot in this system have migrated here because we are of like mind. There are other such systems, but our primaries are mixed with those loyal and those corrupt. To remove them would mean an internal war that would destroy us.”

“Then you have work to do, just as the Era’tran have been doing for some time. You will not solve this problem quickly, but it can be achieved without a full scale war if you are cautious and the corruption has not spread too far. Those that are part of the corruption rely on lies. They pretend to adhere to our mandate without doing so and use intimidation to suppress those they cannot persuade. The truth is your weapon. Wield it wisely and begin eating away at this corruption. Let your focus be on the Hadarak and the true nature of V’kit’no’sat. We are brothers, and we do not doubt each other. If there is cause for doubt, then something is wrong and Terraxis has proven there is ample reason for doubt.”

“If the corrupt force a fight, regardless of how we proceed, will you stand with us?”

Mak’to’ran hesitated, knowing that whatever deals he struck the Era’tran would have to honor, but Hamob had insisted that he be the one to do this and now he had to prove his worthiness for the task.

“We will stand by any true V’kit’no’sat, and while we will not start a war with other races, we will not shirk from fighting any who strike at us first.”

“And what if others are struck first? Will you intervene or stand by and watch?”

“You refer to another approaching territory seizure?” Mak’to’ran guessed.

“We have been cited to lose another two planets for mirroring the actions of the Oso’lon themselves!”

“For defiance of more protocol? Your leaders are trying to replicate the corruption in others and are being penalized for it. First begin with righting yourselves, then worry about the actions of others within the empire.”

“If we do not compete we will lose far more.”

“If you wish Era’tran backing, then violate no more protocols. Has Itaru forced a seizure of territory without a protocol violation cited?”

“No, but there have been non-territorial injustices that have not been protocol based.”

“Then I advise you to hold onto your existing territory and weather other injustices while you spend your time and effort internally.”

“To what end? Can you give us no assistance?”

“What specifically are you in need of? Our Elders in the Conclave cannot overrule the others.”

“We need air. It is being systematically denied to us.”

“You refer to planetary atmospheres compatible with your physiology?”

“Yes. The territorial penalties have all been our most valuable worlds that are not a capitol or industrial center. We do not have open air in which to fly our growing population. Our worlds are congested, and it is a deliberate attempt to both insult and weaken us perpetrated by the Les’i’kron. They attempt to assert dominance by hurting us and driving us further from competition. We could never match them anyway, but they seek to grind us down further no matter what we do or do not do.”

“Intriguing,” Mak’to’ran said as he thought carefully. “I assume the air in a covmenor such as this is too close for proper training?”

“We require wide open spaces for proper training. We need free reign and volume to meet our population requirements. Too many in the air at once limits our options.”

“If another world with a suitable, if not ideal, atmosphere were possible for acquisition, could you and the loyal Poquot use it as leverage to begin shaving away the internal corruption within your race?”

“All Poquot need free air, regardless of their loyalties. The fear of losing more worlds is driving the impetus to do whatever is necessary to obtain what we need, even if it is outside the boundaries of honor.”

“And the restrictions on territorial expansion force you to remain in this perpetual fear, reinforced by the occasional seizure that then empowers the corruption even further?”

“You believe it is intentional?”

“Possibly, but whether the corruption is being stoked from afar or generated from within, it has to be confronted and countered in a way to preserve as much of your race and your holdings as possible. The V’kit’no’sat are falling. I am here to save what pieces I can, and the more pieces we have intact the better. If I can arrange an even trade of territory between the Era’tran and the Poquot it will not need Conclave approval, but it will allow the Era’tran more influence over your race than Itaru in that we are aiding while they are taking.”

“You are willing to do this?”

“I cannot unilaterally make this decision, and an appropriate territory swap that benefits both races will have to be crafted, but it is doable. If we start behaving as brothers rather than adversaries, can you make use of that?”

“I cannot promise you either, for those here do not hold sufficient rank, but others can and will pursue this if you offer it. Tasting the air on a new world will be a powerful motivation to return focus to our mandate if you require it as part of the arrangement.”

“Then bring up a map of your holdings and I will begin selecting potential candidates that will be of value to the Era’tran. We will need something that will act as a visible symbol of mutual strengthening, for the rest of the empire will take notice.”

“It could draw further penalties from Itaru, but with the Era’tran involved they will not be so quick to act if you will not abandon us.”

“If we make a deal, we will honor it and face Itaru’s displeasure together while demonstrating how V’kit’no’sat are supposed to be…helping one another grow stronger rather than seeing them as competition that has to be hobbled.”

The holograms of the battle records at Terraxis were moved to a higher altitude as those at the lowest level were replaced with a map of all Poquot holdings around the galaxy and the great spiral was lowered to just above Era’tran head height so the 5 guests could see more comfortably given the fact that their heads did not incline as easily as those of their hosts.

“Tell us what you value in the bad air,” the Poquot leader said as individual systems started to get pulled down for closer study.

9

November 6, 3603

Battiwipot System (V’kit’no’sat territory)

Hachiwa

The meeting with the Poquot happened lightning fast, for after several hours of discussion over possible territory swaps neither side could confirm anything and the internal process within the Poquot that was desired meant a long, dragged out affair that would increase the Era’tran’s influence while decreasing that of the Elder Conclave. So once several possibilities were noted and a few tangents were discussed the long trip was concluded and Mak’to’ran headed back to his Na’shor without incident.

But before he could leave the system he was contacted by the I’rar’et and asked for an audience. While slightly lower ranking in status within the V’kit’no’sat, the I’rar’et were more or less equals and a powerhouse in and of their own. What they wanted to discuss he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to travel down to the surface of the planet they controlled half of. If he did it would be an opportunity for them to capture him despite previous assurances of neutrality…or perhaps they merely wished to delay him before others could arrive to do it for them. Regardless, if they wanted to talk he’d listen but they’d do it on his terms.

The I’rar’et didn’t want to discuss matters over comm channels but rather in person, so Mak’to’ran arranged to have them come onboard his ship, which he then brought into orbit over Hachiwa in an empty slot. Only the vessel carrying the I’rar’et delegation was to approach, for Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to let their full fleet surround him and diminish his navigational options.

The I’rar’et complied, so when a Domjo came up nearby and released a drop pod Mak’to’ran allowed it through the Na’shor’s shields and inside the prepared hangar bay where a full scan was taken prior to the Era’tran leader making physical presence. Had there been anything questionable he could have dealt with it in a variety of ways, but when everything checked out he strode out onto the deck as a quartet of I’rar’et flew out of the pod then walked awkwardly toward him as other Era’tran and Zen’zat looked on from conspicuous perimeter positions.

“You fear sabotage?” an I’rar’et named Ba’vi asked, referencing all the security.

“One does not defy Itaru and expect their lackeys to not take offense. What is it you wished to discuss?”

“A private matter. Are you recording in any way?”

“Possibly.”

“We wish our words to be for you alone. Will you allow a privacy field?”

“As you wish.”

The I’rar’et produced a small object and telekinetically floated it up near Mak’to’ran. The object centered itself midair then burst out with a cascade of holographic interference that dimmed his vision of the hangar but did not cut it out entirely. The reverse was not true, for those outside could see and hear nothing, with Mak’to’ran and the I’rar’et now concealed inside a black void.

“You are in more danger than you realize,” Ba’vi said as the other three I’rar’et bobbed their heads in unison. “There was more than discussion amongst the I’rar’et in this system regarding your presence. Blood has been spilt to ensure you could pass freely.”

Mak’to’ran curled and flexed his fingers rhythmically in displeasure. “Explain.”

“There were those that wished to challenge you, those that wished to let you pass, and those that wished to kill you. The latter were a small group, but their efforts united the rest of us in opposing them. 148 I’rar’et were killed, 39 of which were not revivable. All those visible assassins were eliminated, we made sure of that, but to have members of our own race turn on us so irrationally is…”

“…symptomatic of something larger,” another I’rar’et called Waf’fi finished for him. “I was one who agreed that we should compel Itaru’s recall order, but in light of recent events I believe wisdom dictates that we gather more information before any of us act. What is happening that we are not aware of? Why did you come here and why do they want you dead?”

“Some secrets I will keep, but given that you’ve already tasted this conflict for yourself I will give you warning as well…there is a faction within the V’kit’no’sat, spread across multiple races, that is corrupting us. The Era’tran have dealt with those insiders previously, so we now stand united, but there are stories of assassinations taking place across the empire weeding out individuals and sects that the collective deems disruptive. Rather than prove dominance they assert it as inherent and diminish or eliminate those who challenge or simply contradict their assertions.”

“You suggest a conspiracy?”

“I do not know the true nature of what is happening, but the empire is dying. My mission here was with regards to finding a way to save it.”

“How so?”

“That is not for you to know.”

“We are also V’kit’no’sat, Era’tran. If the empire is in peril it equally concerns us.”

“Why are you not heeding the recall order?” another I’rar’et asked.

“I have supplied them with all the information regarding Terraxis. My presence there is unnecessary unless they have ulterior motives.”

“And you come here instead to visit the Poquot?”

“This was not my first destination, nor will it be the last.”

“Beyond the obvious, what is so important about Terraxis?”

“Aside from the implications that one of us is responsible for the treason and may be plotting an overthrow of the empire…the defeat runs contrary to the assertions of invincibility that the collective lives and breathes.”

“What ‘collective’ are you referring to?”

“I know what he means,” the fourth I’rar’et answered.

“Do tell, Jar’vic?”

“They are an ideology that insists that none exceed the others and those responsible for the population restrictions. We are not allowed to grow too strong or we are culled, through one means or another. They fear one becoming stronger than the others.”

“Among other things,” Mak’to’ran added. “I do not know what they plan in full, but I am well aware of the danger to me and my mission. That is why you are here and not on your world.”

“We would have protected you, but your caution is warranted. What do you hope to accomplish on this undisclosed mission?”

“The Era’tran will hold true to the mandate of the V’kit’no’sat. We will not attack our brothers…but we will be prepared if they should attack us. If that happens and the empire is thrown into civil war the V’kit’no’sat are doomed, but we would rather die with honor than slowly become corrupted. We will hold true to all races that likewise adhere to our mandate.”

“Which part do you refer to?”

“The reason we exist. To fight the Hadarak and one day find a way to destroy them and rid the galaxy of their plague.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Ba’vi scoffed. “We will always fight to contain them, but they cannot be destroyed or we would have done so already.”

Mak’to’ran growled so loud Ba’vi hopped back a step on instinct.

“We were formed to take on that impossible task, lest you forget.”

“We do not have the strength to accomplish that now nor anytime in the near future,” Waf’fi countered.

“Agreed, and we have let the Hadarak keep territory that we lost previously. At the minimum Itaru should be focused on retaking those systems, yet we do nothing more than whittle away slowly so we can claim we are making progress when really we have become apathetic.”

“Those fighting on the Hadarak front would disagree.”

“I do not fault them,” Mak’to’ran said, having been one of them himself previously, “but they do not dictate the amount of resources put into those fleets and there is only so much they can do.”

“If we push harder it will weaken us.”

“Which is why we should not be limiting population,” Jar’vic disagreed, making it clear that these four were not of like mind. “Their edict makes no sense!”

“It is not for us to question,” Ba’vi snapped, but did so with an eye towards Mak’to’ran. “The Era’tran may wish to defy Itaru, but we will not.”

“Defying Itaru would not be necessary if Itaru was wise,” Mak’to’ran said simply. “I will do what I must, as you have done. I suggest you turn your efforts inward and confront the collective within you in such a way to prevent more bloodshed. Turn a blind eye to it and you could be engulfed in carnage you may not survive.”

“Had the events of yesterday not occurred I would disagree,” Jar’vic said mutedly, “but I cannot be blind to this any longer. We have traitors amongst us. One of those who died was a friend. 240,000 years of experience wasted in an instant. Those who would so blithely kill their brothers are an enemy of all V’kit’no’sat…and I would ask what I can do to assist you in righting this wrong.”

“You cannot take unilateral action…”

“I can do whatever I please!” the I’rar’et shouted, spinning around and glaring at his counterpart. “If I am to die with an explosive strapped to my back, then I will die for something rather than be discarded so insultingly.”

“Explosive?” Mak’to’ran asked, interrupting the impromptu standoff.

“Those that were killed initially were those who refused to detain you,” Ne’shen answered. “They were attacked without warning, and some had explosives quietly planted on their bodies before they realized the threat. Inside their shields and attached directly to their skin, their armor was of no use.”

“Those that had it. Several were attacked in their sleep,” Ba’vi added. “Now we are forced to wonder will another attack happen, and who of us will betray the other. Fear and distrust are running high amongst the I’rar’et in this system.”

“If you were true V’kit’no’sat you would not have to worry about such things,” Mak’to’ran lectured, but his tone was sympathetic. “We are brothers, and if brothers have to fear one another then we are not. I do not envy the position you are in, but it is your problem to solve. I can promise the Era’tran will support those who are honorable and hold to our mandate. We do not seek war, but we will fight a defensive one if necessary. The slain will not be ignored or sacrificed to maintain the illusion of unity. We will either be unified in truth or we will fight those who undermine that unity…and that is why I cannot go to Itaru.”

“They could kill you there easily.”

“Or blame him for Terraxis…which, for the record, I do not,” Jar’vic added. “I have seen the battle records. You were beaten, but you hurt this Star Force far more. Had it not been for the Oso’lon, the Mach’nel would still be intact and you would control that system.”

“I cannot say for sure who is at fault,” Mak’to’ran said before the others could object, but blaming the Oso’lon was apparently a current trend. “If one has the ability to control Hadarak they might be willing to sacrifice a Mach’nel to hide that fact…or have the knowledge to break our strongest codes. We know nothing more than the fact that this treason is of the highest level, but it is a symptom of a greater corruption within us. Terraxis will not destroy us. Given sufficient fleet strength they will fall, but unless we deal with the collective inside each of our races and return to our mandate our empire is in jeopardy. You have just seen that first hand. Do not forget the lesson in blood that has just been taught to you.”

“None of us will,” Ba’vi said angrily.

Mak’to’ran’s Na’shor left the system shortly thereafter without incident, traveling across V’kit’no’sat territory without sign of pursuit though he assumed it was just a matter of time before a task force was assigned to track him down and force a confrontation. He couldn’t hide his movements through inhabited systems or the major spacelanes, but if needed he could venture off the primary routes and travel through the lesser systems where the V’kit’no’sat did not have monitoring devices.

In the core especially there were so many systems that you could be overlooked for millennia if you did not cause a problem significant enough to get noticed, but some territory that was not their own still held outposts and sensor stations so they could keep track of what the more powerful non-V’kit’no’sat races were up to…and determine when it became necessary to take them out if they threatened the stability of their local region. Wars still happened on a small scale, but long ago the V’kit’no’sat had put an end to vast conquering campaigns. This galaxy was theirs to watch over, and the only one conquering other worlds in large number were going to be the V’kit’no’sat.

That said, there were too many systems to keep under surveillance and there were gaps in the detection grid. Fortunately Mak’to’ran knew where the hidden observation points were and weren’t, but on his way back to Holloi he didn’t have to make use of them. When he returned to the capitol system and was once again back inside the protective aura of the defense fleet he wondered if those out to destroy or use him for other purposes would be so bold as to come here and force, or threaten, a conflict in order to obtain him and remove the stain of defiance that many on Itaru could not stomach.

But it was better that he come here than a smaller Era’tran system in which to resupply, though he did not feel that he was totally safe anywhere but on the move. His ship had a speed advantage, and he figured it would be better for all concerned if his location was unknown so the opposition could not plot a move against him. If he was to be chased he could dictate that chase, but stay in any system too long and the initiative would be with the enemy.

To that end he decided to stay in the capitol only briefly, but not before he had another talk with Hamob face to face.

10

February 12, 3604

Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

Holloi

Mak’to’ran returned to Hamob’s residence as soon as his ship returned to orbit, leaving in a drop pod as it immediately began rotating off crew and refilling with supplies, fuel, and whatever small maintenance was required. V’kit’no’sat ships could operate for years outside of making port, but given the large size of their empire, travel across it was lengthy and restocking was essential for any vessels operating in courier roles.

But those were things that other Era’tran would deal with and do so quickly, allowing him to leave promptly if necessary. What Mak’to’ran’s next stop was he didn’t know, for he hadn’t checked his orders prior to returning. Before he went anywhere else he needed more information and guidance.

When he arrived at the entrance he found that the doors had changed. He almost had taken the same one as before, but the small writing was different and directed him to the center this time. It led him to the same chamber as before, suggesting a mobile architecture that could probably be used to lock down the facility with no viable access points if needed, and that made him curious where exactly the wrong routes would take him.

Hamob met him at the inner doorway with a respectful flick of his head, then walked with him down the incline headed for the secret chamber entrance on the other side of the bowl-shaped room as they spoke.

“Ripples are forming already in your wake,” the elder Era’tran said approvingly. “Your suggestion of a territory swap was most impressive. It will severely weaken Itaru’s strangulation of the Poquot and put us in a position of power…one that will draw their ire, but there is no violation of protocol in it. We are currently in negotiations as to which worlds to swap, but as suggested we’re going to take our time and get as much leverage out of this as we can.”

“There is another matter that I promised not to transmit involving the I’rar’et.”

“Oh? I wondered why you’d returned so soon with the logistics we’d provided you.”

“I met with several I’rar’et onboard my ship so we could talk in private, at their request. It seems there was a disagreement on how to deal with my arrival. Some wished to honor free transit, others wished to capture me per Itaru’s orders. A much smaller group wanted me killed, and when they did not get the response they wanted they instead turned on their fellow I’rar’et, killing some in their sleep. The traitors were eliminated in a short lived fight, but 148 were killed, 39 of which were unrevivable. The brazen violence has shaken them thoroughly.”

Hamob stopped walking just prior to the entrance as it manifested and looked to his right at Mak’to’ran.

“Killed?”

“Yes.”

“That is bold…and borderline insanity.”

“I get the feeling that we stand on the verge of triggering a cascade of bloodshed, but cannot see a way to prevent it. Condoning it will only embolden this collective into more affronts.”

“When I sent you out,” Hamob said, walking into the secret entrance and ahead of Mak’to’ran, “I expected to probe a reaction, but I did not expect anything so volatile. Any violence would be directed at you, and as long as you stayed ahead of it you would draw the honorable out of their shells hearing of your defiance of Itaru. For the I’rar’et to strike each other is disturbing indeed. You wish to confirm your next movements then?”

“I have not yet looked. I need to know more of this foe we face before I walk into a trap ill-prepared.”

“I do not know the full extent of it. Among other purposes I intend to use you to draw them out in various races.”

“I can handle being bait so long as I know enough to avoid getting caught. How close are we to triggering a war? How much can I press in these negotiations without causing an immediate backlash?”

“You cannot control that, so do not concern yourself with it. You are to be a symbol of how the V’kit’no’sat should be. Do not concern yourself with Itaru or stifling the insanity of others. Remind those who see and hear of you what they are supposed to be…short of becoming a martyr. We need you alive and out of Itaru’s reach to be effective.”

“So you intend for me to incite?”

“With the arrogant the truth does that on its own. We cannot stifle it to appease them.”

“Are we ready to handle what may come?”

“Look,” Hamob said as they entered and the holographic map appeared, this time with updates. Thousands of stars were highlighted in a brilliant green glow that had not been there previously. “These are systems that have made contact with us since your refusal to return to Itaru, all through back channels. We are engaging with malcontents and in some cases the leadership that wishes to secure their holdings to prevent the arrogant from gaining dominance within their systems, or in a few cases their entire race. More will come as you travel and incite. Do not worry about repercussions. We are set up well to deal with them.”

“What of the others. If this collective ideology is this insane they may well destroy what they cannot control at debilitating levels.”

“We cannot stop that, but if we do nothing the arrogant grow stronger as they quietly eliminate their opposition. You are forcing them to move publically, and the backlash from the subdued loyal V’kit’no’sat will not be small.”

“I fear this coming to a head within a year or two. If I understand you correctly, we are making a longer term play?”

“We may not have that luxury. The reports of fleets returning from the Hadarak front are escalating. No one is fully pulling out, but they are siphoning off strength. They are fearful of an immediate conflict stemming from Terraxis.”

“And you are not?”

“It concerns me greatly, but I do believe we caught them before they were ready. Observe,” Hamob said, bringing up surveillance holograms that showed Mak’to’ran a great number of unidentified ships.

“Where is this?”

“The Star Force Uriti Preserve. Our scouts have reported back. They did not have to engage the altered Hadarak and did not cross paths with other V’kit’no’sat, but there was a small fight from the defending ships and we lost one of our own.”

Mak’to’ran watched the battle records as they showed familiar Star Force ships chasing and engaging the fleeing Era’tran scout ships. There were six of them, all Domjo-class and outfitted for speed, and Star Force was only able to engage by prepositioning a massive amount of drones, some of which had IDF technology. One of them was caught with his gravity drives disabled and the other five circled back to defend it, forcing a quick fight the Domjos were winning until an unidentified ship appeared out of nowhere and tore into one of the Era’tran vessels with surprising ease.

The other five fought their way free while managing to damage the larger unidentified vessel, but the crippled Domjo had to be abandoned. Fortunately for any surviving crew they did not have to suffer through capture and interrogation, for the unidentified vessel mercilessly pounded the Domjo until it was completely destroyed as the surviving scouts watched from afar as they fled to the jump point and left the system.

“Who are they?”

“We don’t know, but there are many other unidentified vessels within the Preserve. Curiously though, they are only located in a single system. It seems it functions as some sort of embassy and these Uriti are the focal point. How advanced each race is we do not know, but our inability to detect this vessel prior to its revealing is disturbing in and of itself. We also cannot fully categorize the weaponry they used against us, while all Star Force weapons are weaker versions of our own technology.”

“They are recruiting allies?”

“I believe so.”

“To what end? Destroy the V’kit’no’sat and the Hadarak roam free. If they can control the Hadarak then they can use them to destroy us.”

“Perhaps they can only create controllable Hadarak, not enslave those already in existence.”

“I sense that is more than a guess.”

“We have gained a large amount of intelligence from this scouting mission. The loss of the ship is unsettling, but they accomplished their mission. These are not Hadarak as we know them. They have been significantly altered. Without combat to determine the extent of which we cannot know their full power, but observed firing runs and maneuvers indicate larger, single purpose weaponry sometimes unique to a single Uriti.”

“Prototypes?”

“It would seem so. There is no visible replication.”

“How many systems were they able to surveil?”

“Most. The Uriti are kept together in a traveling group that moves around the Preserve while the embassy remains in a single position that the Uriti return to periodically. Our unknown attacker seems to go beyond that system, and with that advanced of a stealth shield they probably can go where they like without Star Force even knowing about it.”

“Is it possible that we are not looking at a V’kit’no’sat plot?”

Hamob inclined his head slightly.

“That possibility has been discussed, but if Star Force is being led by an outsider then it begs the question of how they got access to our knowledge. Hacking the Oso’lon, J’gar, or Zak’de’ron coding would mean they are more advanced than us…and if they can rework Zen’zat genetics they are on the level of the Zak’de’ron or beyond.”

“I would rather face that threat as a united empire than fight a civil war.”

“I agree, but the actions of the arrogant suggest otherwise. Recruiting outsiders to tip the scales in lieu of population the sponsor does not have is clever, but I still question the strength of these allies and why we have never heard of them prior to this. The Outer Rim is vast, but word of such strength tends to be hard to contain.”

“Perhaps Itaru has stopped listening.”

“I fear you are right.”

“Have you shared this reconnaissance?”

“Not yet, but as true V’kit’no’sat we are going to inform our brothers of it. We will not hoard the knowledge of threats to the empire…nor will we allow it to be repressed, and it begs the question of why we have never been informed of any of these races. Combined with the presence of Star Force, has Itaru become blind to exterior threats or simply afraid to confront them?”

“Suggesting the possibility of the reduced borders,” Mak’to’ran said, revealing his sharp teeth in a coy smile. “You want me to be the one to release the surveillance.”

“You are being groomed into the visible alternative to Itaru. How much you operate on your own will be in question, but our backing of you could be seen to be reactive. That lingering doubt will shield us for a time and put prime focus on you. With tensions high already regarding Terraxis, this revelation will gain everyone’s attention…and better it be on you than finding an excuse to attack one another. If they see that someone is taking action where others are not, they will be more likely to assist rather than initiate.”

“And that could buy the empire more time,” Mak’to’ran said, beginning to see the levels of cunning within Hamob’s strategy.

“But it puts you in the greatest danger of all.”

“As I prefer. Where do you want me to release this information from?”

“It will be released to all with no exception, but who you first release it to will also send a message.”

“To whom we favor?”

“To whom we respect for their wisdom and battle prowess. You will go to the H’jarat regional capitol of Yat’ri and address their leadership directly, then subsequently release the information to all through the Urrtren. Itaru will find out when everyone else does.”

www.aerkijyr.com

1

July 28, 3604

Yat’ri System (Hjar’at Regional Capitol)

Inner Zone

Mak’to’ran stood inside the silver circle on the command deck of his Kafcha-class dreadnaught that outlined the zone from which mental control could be exerted as he monitored the position of every Hjar’at ship in their defense fleet while his Era’tran vessel moved through a microjump from the central star towards the 6th planet. They’d picked up an escort of some 18 warships, all of smaller size, but they were a small fraction of the overall warfleet here with Mak’to’ran being hyper aware of the threat they posed. Should they turn against him, fleeing would be his only option so he was keeping watch on every navigational twitch they made, though if his enemies had any common sense they’d wait until he arrived at his destination before acting.

He’d received assurances from Hjar’at in this system upon arriving that he’d be allowed to visit the surface of Hattoman and then leave the system again without interference, but Mak’to’ran knew better than to assume there were no threats. That said, he was still trusting the Hjar’at a great deal and was about to put himself in a very vulnerable position…but this mission was one of trust, and there were none amongst the V’kit’no’sat that held to the concept of honoring one’s word more than the Hjar’at did. Guile wasn’t their strong suit. They believed in identifying a target, charging it, destroying it, then repeating as many times as necessary…and they were just as steadfast and focused with regards to protecting their allies.

Mak’to’ran was putting them in the curious position of having to choose between him and Itaru’s orders, but Hamob had sent him here for a reason and so far it looked to be paying off, for he had half expected a fleet of ships to intercept him as soon as he entered the system. That hadn’t happened, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap. Perhaps another fleet was on its way here to do what the Hjar’at had promised not to, but they’d made it clear that he would be allowed to leave and the wording they’d used didn’t allow for any cleverness. If they honored their word he’d have free passage, and if another race showed up and demanded they break their word the Hjar’at wouldn’t take well to that.

And given the thousands of Hjar’at warships nearby and their crews’ propensity for combat, no one was going to force their hand here. It was the thought of Hjar’at members of the ‘collective’ and possible counterparts to the I’rar’et assassins that concerned him most, but he was here and he was going to see this through one way or another.

He just hoped Hamob knew what he was doing sending him here.

When Mak’to’ran reached Hattoman he traveled down to the planet’s surface in a drop pod escorted by four Zen’zat Paklo-class starfighters under his command as 128 identical craft flown by Hjar’at Zen’zat joined up with them in an extra symbolic gesture of neutrality. Zen’zat served all V’kit’no’sat, but while they held racial allegiances they put their duty to the empire first above all else. One might think that would mean they would heed Itaru’s order to forcibly recall him, but the message here was clear. V’kit’no’sat would not be fighting V’kit’no’sat, and if any Hjar’at felt otherwise they’d have to fight the Zen’zat from both races to get at Mak’to’ran.

The Paklo stayed around his drop pod like a swarm of insects until it landed in a Hjar’at city, then they stayed in the general area flying patrol loops to make sure that everyone understood this landing pad was off limits. There were no other ships at all on the long pad that stretched out like a claw mark through the city infrastructure, far longer than it was wide, but there were several hundred Hjar’at and thousands of Zen’zat present…all of which were fully armored. The Zen’zat in their typical green/black and the Hjar’at in their reflective gold, but their Saroto’kanse’vam were uncovered and unpowered.

Those appeared as clear crystal, and while they were incredibly dense they also would gain armor protection when not energized. Their being exposed now was a sign of respect, showing that they were here to be the Era’trans’ escorts, not their attackers. Their formation was also one of defense against an exterior threat, with many having their tails towards the dropship while the inner circle focused on the visiting craft. The Zen’zat were spaced between them in tight groups that could disperse on a moment’s notice and cause all kinds of havoc…meaning that if this was a trap, there was little chance of Mak’to’ran escaping it.

When the descending ramp formed Mak’to’ran walked out first, his body armor also fully deployed into the deep red battle plates feared by many…but not the Hjar’at. The Era’tran might have an intelligence advantage given their Sav, but in physical combat they were no match for the Hjar’at. Once fully energized, the Saroto’kanse’vam not only could fire energy blasts at range, but they would glow bright blue and become cutting weapons above and beyond their already sharp shape. A Hjar’at simply had to run towards an Era’tran and ram them neck down, digging their nose into the ground and causing them to roll forward with their back spines coming around and into his face…and if they could land that attack, his shields and armor would be of little defense. He might survive once, maybe twice if he was lucky, but the damage those spines could inflict when fully energized was insane.

An Era’tran had to dodge and fire, not making physical contact, but that was difficult due to the agility advantage the Hjar’at had being quadruped. Mak’to’ran could outrun them if allowed to get up to speed, for their legs were short and stubby compared to his, but maneuvering around in close combat was to their advantage and only the deftest of Era’tran warriors could match them in the ‘dance of death,’ as it was called. In the past the two races would spar with one another for practice, with the Saroto’kanse’vam not energized, but such things had diminished with time and the lingering distrust following the Rit’ko’sor rebellion, though they had not outright ended. There were still occasionally some cross training exercises organized, so it was only mildly surprising to see a single Era’tran without armor standing amongst the Hjar’at waiting for him.

Down the ramp following Mak’to’ran came his escorts, some 23 this time and all wearing their deployed armor. Hjar’at didn’t take that as a sign of offense, rather the reverse. Most Hjar’at were warriors, and even those that were not shared some temperamental traits, so coming in with your defenses up was something of prudence rather than offense…especially given the situation. The presence of his escorts was also something that would be expected, for no warrior respected a fool.

The Era’tran waiting for him was not armored, but then again he had not been ordered to Itaru, only Mak’to’ran had, though his presence felt out of place with every other individual on the landing pad fully decked out and ready for battle if needed.

The unidentified Era’tran and a single Hjar’at approached Mak’to’ran, meeting him halfway to the inner defense circle as his own escorts fanned out, lazily exchanging glances with the Hjar’at. Neither side expected a fight, for they were fellow V’kit’no’sat, but that didn’t keep them from visually and mentally sizing each other up.

“Did you have any trouble getting here?” the other Era’tran asked.

“No I did not. Who are you?”

“I am Dagobeth, a semi-permanent ambassador to the Hjar’at.”

“Why was I unaware of this position?”

“It is a private relationship we keep,” the Hjar’at standing next to Dagobeth answered. “With traitors in the empire, we must establish who can be trusted and who cannot, and we must do so privately.”

“My arrival is hardly private,” Mak’to’ran pointed out.

“No it is not, and we have not been told the nature of your mission here, but we will hear you out so long as you leave within 2 days. Will that be satisfactory?”

“It will.”

“Then speak.”

“You wish to do so here?” he asked, unable to see the Hjar’at’s face but with his mind partially visible as the Era’tran tried to glean some clues as to his reasoning.

“Those who need to know are watching. Why have you come here?”

Mak’to’ran looked at the clear spines that were at his eye level, then down to the much lower head of the Hjar’at.

“Very well. I bring information concerning the Star Force Hadarak.”

“Information you withheld from Itaru?”

“No. Information recently obtained during a reconnaissance mission to the star systems where they keep the Hadarak.”

“No such mission was mandated. You defy Itaru again?”

“Necessarily so. We not only have traitors amongst us, but we have powerful enemies on the rim that we have not been warned of, and they are allied with this Star Force. One of our scout ships was destroyed by a race we have not encountered before, and I have come here to give you the information on our new enemies and consult with you concerning the implications as I simultaneously release the information to the Urrtren.”

“What kind of enemy?”

“One with technology that we cannot fully identify, and one with a stealth field that our sensors cannot penetrate.”

The Hjar’at growled and a single lightning flash of energy passed between two of his highest spines, but they remained clear and the discharge did not occur a second time.

“How many did you lose?”

“A Domjo. We sent 6, and they were able to complete their mission. The altered Hadarak appear to be prototypes only. There are no duplicates. However, the location of the Hadarak is also a meeting place for many advanced races that we have no knowledge of. We engaged in combat only with the one, but there are many more. Whoever is behind the treachery of this Star Force appears to be recruiting powerful allies from the rim as well. Races that we should have heard something about previously, but Itaru has not given any such warnings. If they will not defend the V’kit’no’sat, then others must. If Itaru begins acquitting its duty I will obey its edicts, but until such a time loyal V’kit’no’sat have a great deal of work to do.”

The Hjar’at looked at Dagobeth, then tilted his head away from the drop pod.

“Bring your data,” he said, spinning around and walking into a forming gap in those assembled that led to a city entrance.

He is rattled, Dagobeth told Mak’to’ran telepathically. And I am not at all pleased either.

None of us are, Mak’to’ran said as he fell into step with the unarmored Era’tran and followed the Hjar’at. His escorts slipped into a mirroring 2 wide formation save for a trio that stayed behind with the drop pod that the starfighters were still circling over and would remain so for the duration of his visit, cycling in and out as needed.

As they walked the shorter distance to the side of the landing pad, Mak’to’ran looked up at the sea of ridges that the Hjar’at made their cities out of. They weren’t totally smooth, but a far cry from the spines on their backs. Rather these buildings were a massive arc that tapered out all the way to the ground but were narrow on the sides, making them almost look like the back fin of a Qua’cho. These were thicker than that, but the entire Hjar’at city was covered with them in a way that led to easy travel laterally on the streets between the small, artificial mountains, but try and travel across them and it became very frustrating.

One could travel down to the low end and move around there, but that was extremely inefficient. For some reason the Hjar’at didn’t seem to care, though they had installed access ports to allow people to cut through the center of the ridges and the entrance they were currently headed for looked to qualify as one. It was located at the very bottom of a steep slope and was large enough to accommodate small ships. It was closed until they came within 200 meters of it, then the huge door started to pull down from a narrow opening on the top until it descended all the way into the ground, allowing them yet again an inconvenient access.

But Mak’to’ran knew the reason they’d designed it that way. ‘Slow to open, quick to close’ was a combat necessity allowing them to block off open access ways quickly to ground travel. Aerial traffic, if it was allowed inside, could still pass through and would be the easiest and quickest to open up for, but if there were troops on the ground they could be stopped quickly, for that was where the door would extrude from first.

In fact, nearly all Hjar’at infrastructure was predicated on combat of some sort, and the ridge-like buildings were the hardest V’kit’no’sat structures to take out from orbit due to their shape. Hit them on the ridge and you’d encounter extra dense shielding, but miss slightly and hit them on the flanks and you’d encounter a sloped shield that would spread out the damage, thus making them soak up more attack power and delay an enemy’s destruction of the city.

And if one building was destroyed from the ground, the next one over would essentially be a giant shielded wall hard to get through, forcing an enemy into the predictable choke points between them that had concealed weaponry and long roads leading up to them that the Hjar’at could charge down and ram their targets.

This entirely cityscape was set up for their preferred combat if they were ever invaded, and while Mak’to’ran respected that he also knew that he would have little room to dodge in the relatively narrow roads between the ridges, setting himself up for easy rams by a group of Hjar’at if it came to that, for all they would have to do is stand shoulder to shoulder and run, with him having nowhere to go.

The ‘bladed wall’ is what they called the technique, and unless you were a good jumper there was little you could do to avoid it in infrastructure such as this. While all V’kit’no’sat had Lachka, most were not powerful enough to slow, let alone stop a charging Hjar’at. You could do so in groups working together, but the only ones rumored to be powerful enough to accomplish it solo were the Oso’lon, and Mak’to’ran still had doubts about the veracity of those rumors.

When they passed through the gate they entered the inside of the ridge-like building and immediately all the Era’tran felt a little too tall. The ceiling was still well above their head height, but it was low compared to the way everything was spread out laterally. There were no corridors and rooms like most other V’kit’no’sat races utilized, but rather a wide open plain interrupted with support columns and sporadic walls. You couldn’t see everywhere, for there was enough stuff to block your distant vision, but if combat were to break out inside the structure the Hjar’at would have decent running space to get up to ramming speed and the low ceiling height would force flyers down to spine level.

Mak’to’ran assumed the same for the other levels all the way up to the top of the structure, but his Hjar’at escorts led them through the building and out the far side, crossing the street and turning to the right. They walked down it with a few vehicles passing by over their heads then turned left and entered the next ridge. They didn’t have gates facing one another, so the problem of moving across ridges was a tedious one until they came to the Hjar’at version of a Satu. They walked into a circular end of one of the streets and were immediately pulled upwards a few at a time.

Mak’to’ran walked in next to Dagobeth and the pair were lifted up through a short shield column until they were deposited on a shield platform. There was no physical structure to it at all, and it led to a series of river-like paths that meandered rather than moved on straight lines. That was annoying as far as distance traveled was, but for someone trying to shoot a passenger on the Satu the constant twists and turns would make their path unpredictable, especially considering that the shield path ahead of them was nonexistent until they came near to it, with the invisible road forming and deconstructing behind them as they were carried up and over the ridge buildings.

The Hjar’at had built their Satu infrastructure in such a way that they could turn it on and off at will, thus making it impossible to destroy with an aerial attack or orbital bombardment unless the emitters in the well protected buildings below were hit. Had Mak’to’ran not been wearing armor he would have been concerned, for a saboteur could cut out his section of the Satu and drop him more than half a mile to the ground.

That might kill him, then again he might survive or die in such a way to be recoverable after, but his armor made the matter pointless. All V’kit’no’sat armor had limited gravity drives installed that were just powerful enough to lift his body. He couldn’t use them to fly in any appreciable way, but if he fell they would slow his fall and avoid any danger. Likewise, if he was trapped in a pit he couldn’t climb out of, he could jump and with the help of his armor attain sufficient speed in order to get out before the power charge diminished.

It was a backup that was rarely used, but necessary. Even the Zen’zat had it, and if they wished they could glide across great distances as they slowly fell, but few were skilled enough to truly make use of that. The legendary Ironsey had been a master of it, but sadly that Zen’zat had been killed shortly before Mak’to’ran had been born…as had many more during the Zak’de’ron war. Numbers could be replenished with new births, but experience was far harder to replicate. A million years worth of training took a million years to replace, and the strength that the V’kit’no’sat had had during the days of the Zak’de’ron had not been fully recovered in terms of personnel.

And losing even more to something as pathetic as falling from a Satu was beyond unacceptable, which was why warriors chose to wear their armor in almost all occasions, for even in undeployed mode the antigrav would function, and there were many other V’kit’no’sat civilian accoutrements that offered the same protection.

But this Satu design also held another purpose, and that being that an enemy couldn’t make use of it…for the Hjar’at would just turn it off if they did and force them to move through the streets and find some way to get by their Saroto’kanse’vam.

Everything about the Hjar’at was built around war or preparation for war, and if the V’kit’no’sat were going to survive the instability plaguing them they were going to need the Hjar’at intact, loyal, and not fighting other races.

Mak’to’ran knew the value in them, he just hoped Hamob had picked the right time and place to further the bonds of brotherhood that Dagobeth had obviously already begun to forge.

2

The group traveled a long distance over the tops of the ridge buildings, essentially flying on solid, mostly invisible platforms that were open to the wind. Mak’to’ran’s escorts were close behind along with a handful of Hjar’at, all of which still wore their full armor. Mak’to’ran wondered if there were any assassins eyeing him as he was out in the open, but if there were they didn’t attempt any attack. They hadn’t in Battiwipot, rather striking at fellow I’rar’et that refused to agree with their methods, and a lingering question now was how the Hjar’at would react. Hamob was sending him around the empire not just to negotiate with potential allies, but also to draw out the traitors. He was bait, and sooner or later they were going to strike at him directly…but would it be the Hjar’at to do it?

Mak’to’ran didn’t think so, but if they did they’d hit the hardest. He was sure of that.

When they came to the end of their trek across the skytops of the Hjar’at city they were very far away from their landing pad and the protective swarm of starfighters that oddly hadn’t followed them. Had Mak’to’ran been in charge of security he would have had at least one tracking their progress through the Satu. Maybe the Hjar’at had been wary of some action he would take, and now that they’d learned his purpose in coming here had decided there was no threat from him alone…and yet he could see on his armor’s internal displays that the Paklo were still circling over his drop pod.

Hjar’at were predictable in many ways, but a part of their psyche had always eluded Mak’to’ran. Garrtak he had known well, but the veteran Hjar’at had continually surprised him at the oddest moments. From that he’d learned not to underestimate the battle-savvy quadrupeds, for as brutish as they were at times there was also a sleeping strategic mind within them that occasionally poked itself into evidence.

When Mak’to’ran descended from the Satu it wasn’t down to street level, but rather the side of one of the ridge buildings near the summit. There an extendable platform moved out to allow them to land and assemble, then as a group the 25 Era’tran followed the Hjar’at inside to another wide expanse with low ceilings. There they found a descending staircase that brought them out onto the side of such a huge chamber it surprised Mak’to’ran. There was far too much air, almost as if…

Then he saw the Les’i’kron perched in a nook near the floor, its wings tucked back along its body in such a way that they almost disappeared. Not far from it was a large pool that took up half the floor space in what Mak’to’ran deduced to be a neutral meeting place for all the races in the V’kit’no’sat, with the ample air space to accommodate the fliers and the water for the aquatics while providing a large area of land as well with tiered rings of platforms surrounding it containing many different things, including the walkway they were traveling down.

His Ikrid picked up several more minds hidden from view that were not Hjar’at, and he immediately turned his attention to Dagobeth.

Why are we here? I was sent to discuss matters with the Hjar’at, not others.

They have not told me, but I believe we are only passing through this chamber. There are Tayri chambers beneath this, and I suspect that is our destination.

That made more sense. The Tayri were the negotiation wing of the Hjar’at, and while not quite their leadership they held a considerable amount of influence within their race, for there was no way the Hjar’at were going to allow non-warriors to negotiate for them. Only those with considerable combat experience and wisdom made their way into the Tayri, and given that this was a Hjar’at regional capitol there should be some very high ranking members here.

As Dagobeth predicted they headed lower into the ambassadorial chamber then ducked into a tunnel-like exit that brought them down into the more predictable flat architecture the Hjar’at preferred. The Era’tran were led through a kill zone of tunnels so narrow that they had to walk single file to allow traffic to pass from the other direction, though there was little of it. Eventually their tunnel opened out to a smaller, but still widespread level that had a few dozen Hjar’at in it…including one very powerful mind that Mak’to’ran could feel seething nearby.

Their path brought the Era’tran towards it, then a Hjar’at half again as big as most of the others walked out from behind a wall and into view. His gray/green skin was covered with tattoos that Mak’to’ran instantly recognized and he drew in a surprised breath, for this wasn’t one of the Tayri. This was Yaquik. The eldest and arguably one of the most powerful Hjar’at in existence with a battle record so long that the corresponding tattoos spread across more than half his body.

“Show me our new enemy,” the Hjar’at said with an echoing telepathic insistence behind it that almost made Mak’to’ran’s head hurt.

The Era’tran stared down slightly, but the Hjar’at’s head rode higher than the others due to his size, leaving it still lower than Mak’to’ran’s but with a sea of clear spines rising taller than him to reinforce the lethal power he could sense telepathically along with an anger that he guessed was not directed at him, for when a Hjar’at disliked you their biological cues were hard to miss.

Mak’to’ran trigged his armor to produce the holograms that contained the information and chose the ship that the Era’tran had engaged in the Preserve to show him first, both a schematic and the actual battle footage. He let it play through for more than a minute while Yaquik remained silent, then a cascade ripple of blue lighting energy traveled from his neck spines up and over the arch of his back and disappeared on his tail as the Hjar’at’s eyes looked into Mak’to’ran’s faceplate.

“Show yourself, Era’tran.”

Mak’to’ran retracted the armor over his head, but left the rest intact as he locked eyes with his counterpart. Part of him couldn’t stand submission, even if this Hjar’at effectively outranked him, so he held his ground with a counter stare and just enough telepathic aura to let Yaquik know he was holding his ground, but not making any form of attack out of it…physically, psionically, or thematically.

“You are known to me, but your refusal to answer Itaru’s call has been perplexing. It speaks of treason in a time where we are known to have traitors amongst us. Show me your claws.”

Mak’to’ran withdrew the armor over his hands, then guessing as to his meaning flashed his red energy over them, causing all the other Hjar’at nearby to recoil angrily, but not Yaquik. A quick telepathic ordered from the elder Hjar’at calmed them out of attack mode as Mak’to’ran let the offensive glow linger long enough to make the point, then he dissipated it and recovered them with his armor.

“The rumors are true,” Yaquik said casually. “You have committed treason.”

“Have I?” Mak’to’ran challenged.

“You have directly defied Itaru, and your illegitimate Saroto’kanse’vam are a far greater trespass than your refusal to heed the recall. Era’tran are reputed to have superior intelligence, so I assume you have a plan in this. Why have you sought me out?”

“I was sent by Hamob to warn the Hjar’at of the threats we face. I did not know that I would find you here.”

“Hamob…” Yaquik mewed. “He has always been annoyingly right in reflection, but he has never known how to please others.”

“Coming from a Hjar’at that is almost humorous,” Mak’to’ran quipped.

“Simply stating a fact is preferable to teasing it before others, and he has a habit for the latter.”

“The dominant should be capable of deconstructing a tease. If not, are they still worthy?”

“Then you come here with a challenge, Era’tran?”

“I do. We are not traitors, but we are defying Itaru. I am visible symbol of this, and as you noted, we are not being subtle about it,” he said as he dropped his armor’s passive shields. That went unnoticed by those not viewing him in Pefbar, but the shimmer that soon covered his body did not. He let it pool around him then threw out a ring-like Jumat blast that barely budged the Hjar’at and Era’tran nearby, but it sent them all into even further shock, for not even his own Era’tran had known he possessed Jumat. “I come as loyal V’kit’no’sat seeking the assistance of others to root out the corruption within us.”

“You truly wish to goad the Oso’lon, don’t you?” Yaquik said, visibly getting calmer while the other Hjar’at looked like they were ready to attack and put down the traitor here and now if given the order. “Were you holding back or is that the extent of your power?”

“Holding back, but the psionic is new to me.”

“And the rest of you?” Yaquik asked, gesturing towards the other Era’tran.

“Only I have it and a few others of equal need. If I am to be the bait to draw out the traitors, I already suffer enough disadvantage. This helps to counter it.”

“I could still kill you now if I wished.”

“Perhaps so, but no loyal V’kit’no’sat will harm another. If you are one of the traitors, then the empire might as well start its self-destruction here and now.”

“You are a bold one, Mak’to’ran, and I think Hamob has encouraged you to be even more so. He is playing a dangerous game.”

“This is no game. The empire is in peril, and we must act to preserve what parts we can before all is destroyed…and we will not wait for Itaru’s permission to do our duty.”

“And what duty is that?”

“This is not the only advanced race we have discovered,” Mak’to’ran said, altering the still present holograms into rows of ship hulls, each from the different races seen in the Preserve and laying them out before Yaquik to display the mounting incompetence of Itaru. “If we do not know of these threats, then it is because Itaru has not been looking. Such powerful races cannot go unheard of in the rim, and it may be that Itaru has been blocking our exploration and surveillance in order to allow the Star Force heresy to ally with these powers to unknown ends. The treason runs far deeper than previously believed.”

Yaquik studied each of the ship hulls carefully, saying nothing but with his eye line telling Mak’to’ran of his progress. When he finished inspecting the last one he sent a quick telepathic ping to the Era’tran indicating that he wanted more details.

Mak’to’ran responded by pulling most of the ship hulls away and leaving only three, around which analysis data was displayed that showed bits and pieces of unknown technology. When those three passed his inspection Yaquik signaled for the next set as he silently reviewed the data while the surrounding Hjar’at increased in number as more arrived to surround the Era’tran, making it clear that they would not be leaving if Yaquik decided otherwise.

But Mak’to’ran wasn’t concerned with them as he continued to feed data to the elder Hjar’at, who grew more and more intense as he inspected the reconnaissance data that ended with profiles on each of the altered Hadarak.

“Hamob was right…once again,” Yaquik said slowly and reluctantly, for he knew the implications of this. “Itaru has betrayed us.”

“No!” another Hjar’at all but yelled. “These are the traitors and they will be dealt with now!”

The jewelry covering the four stubby legs on the Hjar’at transformed into pieces of armor that did not cover his entire body, but were enough to carry shield generators that flashed on to protect him from incoming energy weaponry as he and two other nearby Hjar’at flashed their Saroto’kanse’vam into full power, with the clear spines glowing pure blue and ready to cut through anything that had the bad fortune of touching them.

Sparks of lightning flew between them as the trio sprinted forward, with the leading Hjar’at firing a huge lightning cascade at Mak’to’ran, hitting his reformed shields as they also came on full and the Era’tran escorts rushed into combat positions, but the lead Era’tran didn’t fall back. He stepped forward and held his ground as all the Era’tran circled up tail to tail in a defensive ring that held the armorless Dagobeth in the center as Mak’to’ran’s armored faceplate reformed.

The three Hjar’at charged forward, lowering their heads and ready to spin into battle rolls, but as the leader got close enough to plant his four legs and begin a springing leap forward that would begin the roll, the armorless Yaquik flashed into view so fast that it even surprised the Era’tran, with the elder Hjar’at body slamming into the side of the impudent attacker and knocking him sideways as he pressed flesh against flesh while hitting him below his glowing Saroto’kanse’vam.

The Hjar’at fell sideways as Yaquik whipped his tail around and lashed the following Hjar’at across the face with enough force that it twisted his head around and nearly dumped him to the ground, though the elder Hjar’at’s Saroto’kanse’vam remained unenergized.

“Submit!” he yelled with an even more terrifying telepathic copy of the words emanating out along with a  Fornax field that half succeeded in making Mak’to’ran’s body go wobbly, but none of the Era’tran fell. Had Yaquik attacked them in that moment he would have had a significant advantage but his rage was not turned on the Era’tran, rather the three attacking Hjar’at that were staggering as they tried to remain standing with the leader flopping on the floor where Yaquik had knocked him down.

Then the third attacker, the one that Yaquik had not made physical contact with, did the unthinkable. He fired a Saroto’kanse’vam energy discharge at his fellow Hjar’at.

Yaquik’s own Saroto’kanse’vam snapped active and caught the energy cascade, absorbing it on the spherical shield effect they created that would also protect against the glowing spines, but not in more than 3 million years had a Hjar’at turned their Saroto’kanse’vam against another Hjar’at…and that single act sent the remaining Hjar’at into a frenzy that Mak’to’ran had never witnessed before.

Hold position, Mak’to’ran ordered his escorts as they stayed tucked into their outward facing circle, but unfortunately they didn’t have the option of not fighting, for some of the other Hjar’at chose to attack them as well. None of them got close enough to ram, for even as the Era’tran returned fire with their large belly-mounted canons other Hjar’at came rushing in and intercepted the charges, peeling the attackers off without using their own Saroto’kanse’vam as weapons. It looked more like a wrestling match for the helpful Hjar’at, but those trying to attack the Era’tran did turn their Saroto’kanse’vam against their fellow Hjar’at as well.

Mak’to’ran didn’t see any clean hits, with their targets hunkering down and using their own canopy shields to absorb or deflect the strikes, but if they could get to their underbelly the spines would cut them up with only a few hits once they got past the technological shields a few of them had, and even fewer actually had full armor on, but those that did quickly began to dominate the fight along with Yaquik, who apparently didn’t need armor to handle these traitors. His larger size was an advantage, but he was displaying unnatural speed beyond anything Mak’to’ran’s former Hjar’at sparring partners had demonstrated.

More and more Hjar’at arrived from elsewhere and soon the Era’tran were surrounded by so many flashing spines and energy discharges that Mak’to’ran was rattled. He held his Era’tran to their circle, tucking in tight to remove any gaps and make the Hjar’at face so much weaponsfire if they did get through that they might be struck down before they could cut the Era’tran to pieces. After a few insane minutes one of the Hjar’at did get through and tried a battle roll into the other side of the Era’tran formation where Mak’to’ran couldn’t physically reach, but his Lachka could. Together with the other 24 Era’tran they all pushed as one and were able to stop the charge just shy of the spines hitting Jatt’ri.

That Era’tran and four others on his flanks fired on the Hjar’at with their Dir’ken cannons, firing short lived energy orbs that slammed into the Hjar’at shields along with Dre’mo’don shots coming from arm-mounted weapons…then they ceased fire as a Hjar’at got to the now shieldless attacker that was showing a few burn marks as it tried to scramble away.

The incoming Hjar’at rammed it, and had it chosen to use its spines its target would have been gutted, but instead it dipped down and side slammed it into a tumble then kicked into its gut several times with its forward legs, almost standing on it, until the Hjar’at submitted and its spines lost their glow.

The prisoner wasn’t guarded, for the other Hjar’at moved off to attack/defend others, and oddly the defeated one with smoking burn marks laid down on the ground, tucking its legs underneath it and curling up in a defensive ball as it held still. Mak’to’ran reached out to it telepathically, intending on getting into its mind to try and figure out what it was doing, then he realized it had also been damaged mentally with an equally obvious defensive cocoon formed around it that was reeling with damage.

Apparently when the Hjar’at had been fighting physically there had been a mental war as well and this one had lost and was now reduced to a casualty despite the fact that his physical wounds were not that debilitating. Mak’to’ran was quite familiar with mental warfare, but he’d never seen nor heard of it occurring between Hjar’at, and whatever had happened to this one was on a level of attack that surpassed his knowledge.

Apparently the Hjar’at were as equally vicious with Ikrid attacks as they were the physical, and he warned his Era’tran to armor over their minds as they continued to hold their defense ring in a picture of calm control while the landscape around them was littered with crazed Hjar’at fighting each other in a battle that was only escalating as more arrived from other areas of the building.

3

Mak’to’ran and the Era’tran watched tensely as Yaquik and those Hjar’at loyal to him quickly secured the visitors. After the first few charges were stopped by the Era’tran no more got through as many Hjar’at ran up to and spun around in front of them, forming a second wall of bodies with numerous telepathic insistences that the Era’tran stay out of what was a Hjar’at fight. They promised they’d be responsible for their security and, true to their word, no more attacks made it through to Mak’to’ran’s defense ring.

The Hjar’at around them didn’t stand still, constantly moving in a larger circle on patrol and probably throwing some Ikrid attacks at those closest, but none of them used their Saroto’kanse’vam…save for some of the attackers. Mak’to’ran didn’t understand the full significance of that, but it seemed no one wanted to make kills as the Hjar’at being defeated were wounded but not gutted as they easily could have been.

Still wary of his own security and that of his escorts, Mak’to’ran tried to keep alert while studying what was happening. Numbers wise there looked to be less than half of those present engaged against the Era’tran…or rather were, for now they were fighting other Hjar’at and not being nice about it. Several lacerations on what Mak’to’ran thought were defending Hjar’at were visible, but Yaquik was roaming about in the fight and targeting those doing the most damage.

The sight of the 3 million year old Hjar’at sent a chill down his tail. Some elders often lost their fitness just shy of compromising their self-sufficiency as they shifted away from combat to advisory roles, but Yaquik was quite the opposite. Mak’to’ran had fought alongside Hjar’at many times and studied their past battle records, but he had never seen one fight so effortlessly…and without his Saroto’kanse’vam. No one could harm him, and more often than not those that came under his attacks simply submitted after a blow or two or tried to run.

He chased a few, but seemed content to scare off some from their targets as he single-handedly turned a more or less even fight into a total rout.

But that was only here, and soon Mak’to’ran began picking up not just telepathic signals broadcast openly, but comm signals suggesting that fighting was breaking out beyond this chamber. Now that the Era’tran were out of reach one would have expected the fighting to taper off, but everything Mak’to’ran was seeing and sensing told him this battle was about to explode into a city-wide affair…if not larger.

The Era’tran held position for several more minutes, then Yaquik dashed over to them as the last few Hjar’art attackers in the chamber were subdued and taken into custody with several guards over them and holding them down telekinetically. Mak’to’ran saw no physical bindings, but then again they wouldn’t have had any on hand in a safe location like this unless they’d predicted a fight breaking out and all indications were they had been blindsided by this.

“Regarding those two days…” Yaquik said as he lightly skidded to a halt in front of Mak’to’ran.

“We will leave now.”

“No…you will not. Do not run from these traitors. Stay as long as you please and I wish to speak with you in private later, but for now I am needed elsewhere. Fighting is breaking out across the planet. Hamob was right to send you here, for it has drawn them out and we must purge this corruption now. I will leave escorts for you that can be trusted. You should not have to fight again.”

“I am not so certain,” Mak’to’ran said, though he telepathically signaled his acceptance of remaining on the planet. “And my ship…”

“I have already sent word. It will not be touched. I apologize this for heresy. It shames all Hjar’at and will be dealt with swiftly. Remain here until this building is secured,” Yaquik said as he spun about and ran towards one of the ramps that would allow him access to other levels in the building, but before he got to it another Hjar’at, this one fully armored, came towards him and telekinetically tossed a package it had been carrying between its spine rows to him. Yaquik caught and applied it to his body, with the golden armor plates spreading over his gray/green skin like a wave of liquid before hardening into the protection that the elder Hjar’at probably didn’t need…unless the fighting elsewhere was involving weapons beyond the biological.

Did you see this coming? Mak’to’ran asked Dagobeth.

Not at all. Do you know what is happening?

I believe so. We will remain here until their prisoners are dealt with. Be on guard for isolated attacks, he added, transmitting to all his Era’tran as he took a few steps forward and broke the full ring.

The others did likewise, but did not stray far as the Hjar’at moved with them. They only had Yaquik’s word that these were loyal, and if the elder Hjar’at hadn’t seen this coming he might be blind to other aspects of it.

“What faction is doing the attacking?” he asked the nearest of them.

The Hjar’at turned and glared at the Era’tran, not answering for several seconds and obviously very angry until he simply said, “I do not know the cause of this insanity.”

“It is not unique to the Hjar’at,” Mak’to’ran offered. “The I’rar’et killed their own upon a previous visit of mine when they refused to attack me, and I fear there are hidden traitors in many races across the empire.”

“To what end?”

“I do not fully know, but there are lies that they must protect.”

“Such as what?”

“Many things, but this ‘collective’ is rooted in the lie that the V’kit’no’sat are invincible. We must earn our victories, and they do not want to hear that.”

“So they commit heresy to cover a lie? You do not understand Hjar’at at all.”

“What am I not seeing?”

“You are the heretic. Era’tran are not allowed to possess Saroto’kanse’vam.”

“Under normal circumstances I would agree with you, but what we have done is in response to this lurking threat. It is destroying the empire, and no loyal V’kit’no’sat will sit by and let it fall. We fight and die with honor if necessary, but we will not yield to the traitors…nor will we let them weaken us with rules stemming from Itaru.”

The Hjar’at huffed angrily, and it was clear that he wasn’t just going to dismiss the psionics violation that would otherwise have resulted in Mak’to’ran’s death, but it was clear this one wasn’t going to overstep Yaquik.

“What did he mean by ‘Itaru has betrayed us?’”

“They have not allowed us to reclaim our forward rimward territories, and I suspect they have purposely canceled exploration beyond, keeping us blind to powerful races that are now conspiring with those responsible for the Star Force heresy.”

“They kept us blind?”

“It would seem so.”

“That does not warrant your own heresy.”

“There we will disagree, Hjar’at.”

“Lucky for you that I have orders, otherwise you would not survive that disagreement.”

“I do not expect you to like my defiance of Itaru, but it is necessary.”

“Given what has just happened I will reserve judgement on that.”

“I will not,” another Hjar’at said. “We do not attack one another in such a manner. It may not be a violation of Itaru but it is abhorrent. If you are aware of this corruption within us and are taking matters to counter it, I do not fault you. However, your claws are pathetic. They might give you an advantage against other races, but they will be of little defense against us.”

“It is not for the Era’tran to decide.”

“Then who will?” the two Hjar’at argued as they almost faced one another, but kept enough of a stance to still be in a loose defensive posture of those they were tasked to defend. “The Oso’lon? The J’gar? One of them is the traitor.”

“Enough,” a third Hjar’at said. “We have combat before us. Save your bickering for later. These Era’tran are under our protection no matter what they have done. Focus on keeping them intact and let Yaquik deal with other matters.”

“Indeed,” another Hjar’at said, then without warning his Saroto’kanse’vam flashed into brilliance as he jumped towards Mak’to’ran.

There wasn’t time for the Era’tran to move fully out of the way, so he took a step back and with a thought pushed his armor shields full forward as the twin rows of spines came down at him as the Hjar’at rolled across its neck, tucking its head underneath and sinking its neck spines into the floor as the largest part of its body came forward into the Era’tran, but thankfully at a much slower speed due to the lack of a run-up.

Mak’to’ran’s shields held for a moment, then when the physical pressure increased along with an energy discharge the solid spines broke through and almost hit his armor, but a wave of Nakane flooded over him and soaked up even more energy as the other Era’tran combined their Lachka and pried the Hjar’at off, leaving Mak’to’ran unscathed but with his armor shields completely drained.

The other Hjar’at spun on the traitor, but Mak’to’ran didn’t just sit by and wait. When the other Era’tran pushed the Hjar’at off him he pried himself forward on his two powerful lower legs and headbutted the Hjar’at as its neck rotated back around and brought his armorless skull into view. The collision was so hard the quadruped staggered as its balance was hindered, and in that moment Mak’to’ran rotated around in what looked to be a tail whip, but instead he reached out prior to that with his right hand and flashed his red Saroto’kanse’vam into action and ripped his 3 claws down half the length of the Hjar’at’s neck.

He didn’t dig them in all the way on purpose, but he did more than scratch as the Hjar’at screeched in pain, then Mak’to’ran’s tail finished its rotation and slapped the Hjar’at so hard across the wound and the front half of his body that he knocked it over into the Hjar’at on the other side who had to flash its own Saroto’kanse’vam to keep from getting skewered.

The two propped each other up for a moment as the energy domes on top of them crossed, then the wounded Hjar’at was mentally assaulted to the point where it was crippled, but two more Hjar’at came in and interposed themselves between it and Mak’to’ran, intent on keeping him from attacking it again.

“Anyone else want to challenge me?” the Era’tran declared loudly with his armor cranking up the volume so that everyone in the chamber could clearly hear as he waved both sets of glowing red claws in the air a moment, then when no one responded he cooled them off and his armor flowed back over top, full encapsulating them in the protection the Hjar’at had not had.

The first Hjar’at he’d spoke with glared at the Era’tran so hard he wondered if he was going to attack him as well out of rage, but it slowly subsided as they stared one another down. Behind him the other Hjar’at broke out into a frenzy securing the traitor while cautiously regarding each other, wondering who else might be a sleeper assassin.

“This is madness,” one of the Hjar’at roared as he stood over the injured one. “What are you trying to do? Start a war?”

“He must be destroyed,” the mentally ravaged one said now that the attacks had stopped and he was no longer trying to get to his feet. “Those claws are all the proof you need of his heresy. Itaru demands that he be killed, yet you stand by and do nothing!”

“Yaquik will decide, you traitor.”

“Yaquik does not lead the V’kit’no’sat, Itaru does, and he cannot overrule them. Anyone with unsanctioned psionics must be destroyed without exception,” he said as the cauterized furrows in his neck cracked and oozed fresh blood.

“Then it will be a sanctioned execution, not an assassination you scum,” one of the Hjar’at said, sending a mental Ikrid spike that was the equivalent of a gut punch. “For all you know Itaru did sanction it. And how stupid are you to attack without armor?”

“I would have had him if not for the Nakane. Yet another heresy.”

Mak’to’ran growled loudly, having had enough of this and took two steps forward, but the other Hjar’at blocked him immediately.

“He is ours to deal with,” they warned.

“And how many of you will deal with him? Or are you his allies in disguise?”

“Can you not feel what is going on around us? We have friend and foe to sort out everywhere, but it is our task and we will handle it.”

“As you handled him?”

“We will extend a perimeter so that any attacker will declare themselves by their movements. If any more of us are not sane you will not have to find out the same way,” the Hjar’at said as the others began spreading out to create a neutral zone around the Era’tran, and they even shoved the traitor out as well, with him dripping a line of sickly green blood until he finally got a telepathic hold on the damaged lashes on his neck and held the leaking fluid there.

“It’s spreading across the city,” another Era’tran told Mak’to’ran as both races put some distance between one another. “Whatever the rift here is it’s significant, but not a majority.”

“What are they attacking?”

“Not infrastructure. I would guess they are going after specific individuals,” he said as Mak’to’ran started to monitor the same Hjar’at comm channels as his escort fed him the appropriate links.

“We stay here until this settles, one way or another,” Mak’to’ran declared, with the Era’tran repositioning and sitting down on the floor in a looser version of their previous defense ring as they kept their biological eyes and Pefbar on the surrounding Hjar’at that were supposed to be here to protect them. Mak’to’ran studied what free signals the Hjar’at had transmitting through the city, though he knew he wouldn’t have access to their secured network. Still, there were enough raw camera feeds to give him a good idea of what was happening.

The loyal V’kit’no’sat were not attacking to kill or even wound, but rather cause the rebellious ones to submit. They clearly didn’t intend to destroy them, but the others were not so kind. A few Hjar’at were badly wounded here and there as some of the attackers were mindlessly ravaging whatever was in view. He started to see some structural damage, but then realized it was demolition to create terrain blocks to assist in combat rather than an interest in causing damage.

As Mak’to’ran continued to watch via his armor’s internal displays he began to see a pattern. Many of the older and higher ranking Hjar’at were being targeted, and Mak’to’ran instantly knew what that meant.

This was a softening attack designed to strip away strength. Whether it was a secondary option now that Mak’tor’an was beyond their reach or a primary objective being accomplished simultaneously he didn’t know, but the Hjar’at recognized the tactics as well and immediately set about countering with great effect. Very few targets were effectively hit, and those that took heavy damage or died looked to be recoverable as the fighting in this city and others eventually tapered off after several hours.

But still the same insanity was here. Members of the same race with no visible animosity towards one another suddenly snapped and attacked with an intent to kill. Was this a reaction of their mindset or preplanned attacks? And if the Hjar’at had broken some internal rule regarding their Saroto’kanse’vam being used against one another, what did that entail? These couldn’t be genuine dissenters angered over Mak’to’ran’s illegitimate psionics, because they wouldn’t commit equal…or as the one guard had said…an even worse violation within the Hjar’at.

The depth of this collective was beginning to scare Mak’to’ran. He knew it was serious, but this was becoming crazy. A handful of I’rar’et he could somewhat understand, but the fighting going on here was that of more than just a few individuals. This was systematic and he didn’t, couldn’t understand what that meant within a society that valued honor above all else, for they were behaving as if they had none and he was pretty sure the Saroto’kanse’vam violation fell into that category as well.

It was another hour until they finally saw Yaquik again, returning with a few battle scars on his armor but they didn’t hinder the compaction protocol as he retracted it in front of Mak’to’ran in a gesture of trust and apology that was accepted in a glance and quick telepathic conversation between the two of them.

“Follow me,” the elder Hjar’at said, with Mak’to’ran and his escorts getting to their feet and slowly forming a line that walked across the now cleared chamber toward one of the exits.

4

“I had wondered why the Era’tran would give you such small Saroto’kanse’vam,” Yaquik said once the Era’tran had reached another building in the city that had been thoroughly secured and in which he and Mak’to’ran had found a private chamber to talk while their escorts waited outside. “They are not particularly useful in combat…at least not against us, but they do provoke a reaction in the zealots. Hamob sent you here to prove to me that they existed, and you have accomplished that mission,” he said with a sneer of respect and disbelief.

“If that was his intent, he did not share it with me.”

“Yet you expected trouble?”

“One does not defy Itaru lightly.”

“One never should…if Itaru is as it should be. If this madness has pervaded our ranks it could be everywhere, but it is not linked to the treason of Terraxis. I searched the mind of one of the defeated, and he had no knowledge of any conspiracy. He was reacting out of ideology, one that has been apparently encroaching without my notice. They have taken no visible action prior to this, but there are hundreds that we have had to subdue.”

“And more wise enough not to have reacted instantly,” Mak’to’ran added.

“Yes. I heard about your attacker. He will be keeping the scars you gave him as a reminder of his inferiority. No Hjar’at should allow you to get within range to use those short arms.”

The Era’tran flared his nostrils, but he sensed just enough sarcasm to let the comment go.

“Still, he almost succeeded in damaging you. Your Nakane was a wise upgrade if this is going to be the typical reaction to your movements across the empire…which I assume you will be continuing in order to draw more of the traitors out?”

“Amongst other things. My primary purpose here was to deliver the reconnaissance information to the Hjar’at.”

“That could have been accomplished via the Urrtren.”

“There is doubt as to the accuracy of the information flowing through the Urrtren.”

Yaquik raised his eye ridges in a gesture of surprise. “I have not heard that either.”

“Some of the lesser races worry they are being manipulated, and I fear that some of their misgivings may be true regarding current information. I already know historical records have been altered.”

“Some for good reason,” Yaquik added as he thought. “You think they would try and bury this reconnaissance?”

“Best to avoid that possibility by bringing it here personally.”

“And why us? Or did Hamob not tell you that as well?”

“Of all the races, yours would care the most.”

“That we do. If Itaru has hidden enemies from us that is a trespass that we will not overlook, and if that concealment has been to raise an army capable of defeating portions of the empire then we are in a precarious position, one no doubt that Hamob would like to strengthen. Sides are being chosen, are they not?”

“Not by race.”

“Do the Era’tran have these traitors in your midst?”

“We have been quietly dealing with them for some time. Our race is now stable and unified.”

“Until today I would have said the same. The shame brought on us today is something that will rock every Hjar’at world.”

“What is the significance of the Saroto’kanse’vam?”

“We were given the greatest biological weaponry the V’kit’no’sat have ever allowed, and we were given them to fight against our enemies, not each other. If we have need to fight internally we do so without the Saroto’kanse’vam.”

“Even if someone requires killing?”

“We are not so quick to kill as you, Era’tran. Not with each other. If it becomes necessary we will use other weaponry, not the Saroto’kanse’vam, and we will do so quick enough that they cannot respond or we will use Zen’zat. We do not attack one another with them. These heretics are beyond bold, and I need to know their origin.”

“Their origin is arrogance.”

“No. Arrogance would proclaim itself. These have been lurking deliberately.”

“Arrogance will conceal itself if it believes that doing so makes it superior. Arrogance does not have honor, so striking one from concealment that they cannot take on directly is feasible.”

“To what end?”

“Madness needs no end.”

“These Hjar’at,” Yaquik said, pacing around the small chamber with Mak’to’ran staying put near the center underneath a system holographic map, “are not newborns. They have a wealth of experience, some more than you in length if not in deeds. They will not take action unless they have a goal. They risk far too much for recklessness.”

“Is it recklessness if Itaru backs them?”

“Itaru is irrelevant here. They have crossed a Hjar’at line and that supersedes all else.”

“Perhaps it was intentional then.”

“No. They view those who defy Itaru as no longer V’kit’no’sat. It is a madness based on limited reason, but what I do not understand is how this came to pass.”

“Don’t you?” Mak’to’ran challenged.

“No I do not. Tell me if the Era’tran know.”

“Hamob believes it to be rooted in history, a gradual accumulation affecting the newer born more than those with your experience. You learned lessons in your time that I did not, and recent generations know not of the Rit’ko’sor as I do. Ignorance is fueling this madness.”

“You refer to the elimination of the Zak’de’ron.”

“Which has been rewritten in our history as a culling of the Les’i’kron.”

“The rewrite was needed. Subsequent generations needed to see a unified empire rather than the fractured tatters that were left in the wake of a miscalculation. The Zak’de’ron were far more powerful than we expected, and had we known I would not have agreed to strike them down.”

“We should not have struck them down at all. We betrayed them, and that betrayal has poisoned us ever since.”

Yaquik showed the first real animosity for Mak’to’ran since he’d arrived with a glare that immediately set the Era’tran on the defensive. He didn’t activate his armor, but his body tensed in response and it was an instinctive reaction he couldn’t hide from the Hjar’at.

“The Zak’de’ron were a disruptive influence. They refused to fully integrate into the V’kit’no’sat when the rest of us gave up all that we were previously. We dedicated ourselves to the cause while they did not. The agreement was all would, but they held out continuously. We waited long for their eventual acquiescence, but it never came and we were forced to act for the good of the V’kit’no’sat. Our miscalculation harmed the empire, and for that we bear shame, but not for the culling. It was well deserved.”

“It wasn’t a culling, it was an eradication.”

“Their race lives on in altered form. One that is fully committed to the V’kit’no’sat.”

“Why change their name?” Mak’to’ran asked out of curiosity.

“‘Zak’de’ron’ was the name of disrupters. Les’i’kron bespeaks loyalty.”

“Loyalty born out of betrayal is not loyalty.”

“And what do you know of it? Did you even taste battle then, or were you a mere hatchling?”

“I was born during the conflict and saw mop up action, but respectfully, you have just admitted to being blind to the current treason. Perhaps that is because you were blind to the first.”

Yaquik’s Saroto’kanse’vam glowed with no energy arcs, but as the Hjar’at slowly turned and walked towards the Era’tran, Mak’to’ran realized the full implications of the limitations of using Saroto’kanse’vam. It was abhorrent for the Hjar’at to use them against one another, but he was Era’tran and that was a completely different matter.

Mak’to’ran held his ground, though he didn’t feel confident in his position. Yaquik could kill him if he wanted, though he didn’t think that would happen. But still, the possibility of it and the intense glow of those spines made his immediate future considerably uncertain, and he had no wish to suffer an injury as a ‘lesson.’

“You are bold.”

“Am I wrong?” Mak’to’ran challenged as he stared down into the Hjar’at’s eyes from only a few meters away.

“I hear Hamob’s words. Speak them all now, then I will answer that question.”

“The poison in the V’kit’no’sat is arrogance. Those who claim to be more than they are. We are meant to be dominant, and the dominant realize when they are at a disadvantage. We killed the Zak’de’ron because they were greater than us, rather than learning from them. It has come to my recent attention that much of our current technology is still copies of what they provided to us. Even now we do not fully understand it, but we use it and claim that it is our own. We are pretenders, not the dominant. And pretenders must kill those that would expose them. There is your answer as to why your Hjar’at are striking against you and me. To silence the truth that would expose their lie.”

“And what is the extent of that lie?”

“If we are truly dominant we do not fear information. We do not conceal it. We do not alter it. We stand and be judged, for any accurate assessment will confirm our dominance. The Zak’de’ron were better than us, and rather than try to attain their level we destroyed them with a strength they had helped us create. They trusted us and we betrayed them, and that betrayal has lingered on in misinformation and suppression that has only gotten worse in the wake of the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. They knew they could not beat us, but they struck us and struck us in such a way that we were more damaged than expected. Another miscalculation by those claiming to be dominant.”

“Your words are those of treason.”

“Then do your duty to suppress them and attack me now. I’d rather die a true V’kit’no’sat than live a fraud,” Mak’to’ran said, flashing his own Saroto’kanse’vam but not yet activating his armor.

“You and I need to come to an understanding,” Yaquik said, the glow of his spines fading away. “Let’s test your dominance,” he said, jumping forward and ramming his smaller head into Mak’to’ran’s chest right between his glowing claws.

To his credit the Era’tran didn’t use them, instead pushing down on his head as their glow went out, then grabbing the first of his neck spines and yanking the Hjar’at to the side, but he didn’t let go. His arms might have been short, but they were thick with muscle and when he got both of them locked onto Yaquik’s spines he had the leverage he needed. If the Hjar’at activated them he’d lose his hands, but that would be an admission of inferiority. Yaquik had inferred this was a fight without Saroto’kanse’vam and Mak’to’ran was going to take him at his word and make use of the reckless leverage while he had it.

A Fornax blast nearly broke his grip, then a quick neck flex finished the effort, prying one hand off but Mak’to’ran kept his left in place, fighting through the neural disruption and maintaining some coordination. Era’tran didn’t possess Fornax, but they did possess a psionic that even the Zen’zat did not. Only they and four others possessed Tavit, and Mak’to’ran used it now to send a surge of strength through his body that he used to push down with, slamming Yaquik’s head into the ground just before the additional strength left him.

The Hjar’at was in a disadvantageous position so long as he didn’t use his Saroto’kanse’vam, but this was a warrior who intended to prove his superiority so he endured the beatdown as he got his rear legs into position, then he pushed forward arching his back and using the lowered head position to his advantage. His back came up and faced his non-glowing spines towards Mak’to’ran’s face, but the Era’tran quickly grabbed them as the Fornax effect faded.

That freed Yaquik’s head, so he flipped his tail and reversed his momentum, pulling the Era’tran’s arms forward as he tried to hang on and step on the Hjar’at’s head, but Yaquik was quick enough to dart to the side and miss the big foot, then he tucked his neck alongside the thick leg and pushed…

Mak’to’ran suddenly found himself completely aloft as his legs were taken out from under him and an additional Lachka field helped to secure him in place as the Hjar’at spun him to the side and jerked violently in an upward/forward movement that half pried him loose, but his arms held tight to the spines even as they dug into the palms of his hands.

A second thrust by Yaquik came with a Fornax field that did manage to pry the Era’tran free, but Mak’to’ran didn’t consider it a defeat, rather a repositioning as he dropped low to the ground and ran forward tucking his head down into a ramming position. Yaquik jumped to the side and the thrust missed, but it Mak’to’ran swung his tail around and slapped the Hjar’at along the flank, knocking him off balance a small bit, but his mass was so high it would take a hard hit to knock him completely over.

Mak’to’ran followed the tail slap with a dive towards the bulk of the quadruped, but the spiked tail whipped around and hit him in the side of the head, spikes up and not digging in, but it slapped the Era’tran’s head to the side violently and he stumbled for a moment as Yaquik brought his tail into line with his face, giving him a straight on view up the middle of the spine rows.

But he didn’t stay there, rather stepping forward and starting a spin in place that took his tail away from Mak’to’ran. The Era’tran, now with his footing again, used the momentary opening as the tail rotated away to charge again, but to his surprise the rotation accelerated beyond anything he thought a Hjar’at could do. His tail actually kept moving away from Mak’to’ran and traveled all the way around his body as he spun in place, then just before Mak’to’ran’s head touched Yaquik’s thick body it came around and hit him full on.

Mak’to’ran was knocked off his feet and thrown across a console, breaking it as he tumbled onto his back as the Hjar’at held position with a mocking telepathic glow emanating from him as his escorts outside inquired if he needed help. He shook them off with a ‘stay out of it’ thought, then took a few slow steps back in the direction of Yaquik as the biped’s body began to shimmer with distortion.

The Hjar’at saw it as well and snarled, dropping down into a low stance and turning face towards him with his spines covering him defensively in case Mak’to’ran intended to jump on top of him, but that wasn’t the plan. The Era’tran jumped forward, running into the Fornax field that he expected and weathering it well enough to feign moving left, then he twitched and went right, diving alongside Yaquik as he began to spin again, but before the tail could even begin to whip forward he nudged up against the Hjar’at’s side without enough momentum to dislodge him, yet managing to get the shimmering distortion of light around him in a pointblank position…

The next thing Yaquik knew he was the one rolling across the room and demolishing equipment in the process. When he came up he took a headbutt from Mak’to’ran to the front leg, buckling it, but then the Era’tran withdrew as pieces of broken equipment started flying towards him through the air. Mak’to’ran took a few hits, then began using his own Lachka to block some of them. Most he couldn’t, so he focused on turning the momentum into deflections as Yaquik picked up every loose console they’d broken and hurled them at his opponent.

It took a few moments until Mak’to’ran regained enough Jumat energy, then he theatrically blew it outward and knocked down all the incoming objects, after which Yaquik didn’t hurl anymore and the two V’kit’no’sat stared at each other across a short distance.

Then the Hjar’at laughed, a hissing sound that was rarely ever heard from their race but one that he’d heard used a handful of times.

“You have much to learn, Era’tran, but I do like you. Now I understand why Hamob sent you, and why Garrtak spoke so highly of your friendship. It’s a pity you wasted his life at Terraxis.”

“I gave him an assignment and he failed to survive. I do not fault him given the circumstances, but he was a warrior and would not lay blame on others when the defeat was his own.”

“Then you admit to defeat for the overall mission?”

“Partial defeat, yes. But we recovered valuable information. That part was not a failure.”

“The Oso’lon and the J’gar.”

“Yes.”

“Good, Era’tran. You do not banter. Nor does your ego blind you. Garrtak did fail, and that was not your doing. You assigned him a fair task. If you had taken responsibility for that it would speak poorly of your judgement, but you did not. I think there is hope for you after all.”

“Does that mean there will not be a second round of combat?”

“I hardly see the point. Your Jumat is nearly depleted.”

“Is that deduction or is it visible?”

“A bit of both. I have studied our Zen’zat that possess it in order to better assess the Oso’lon and their ilk. Your tissue is showing depletion.”

“How?”

“Your nodules wrinkle slightly when depleted. It takes a keen Pefbar to notice, but I have had considerable practice with Zen’zat and theirs are much smaller than yours. The psionic is new to you, but you understand how to use it in combat. So you think I am blind to the nature of the V’kit’no’sat?”

“I do. By gradual alteration so slight that it has escaped you.”

“I have not fought an Era’tran for some time. The Jumat suits you and eliminates many vulnerabilities, but it will not save you from our Saroto’kanse’vam.”

“That’s why I have this,” Mak’to’ran said, throwing up a bioshield and making it translucent with a tell-tale red tint.

“You didn’t use that before.”

“I didn’t need to.”

Yaquik laughed again, then sent a lightning cascade across his non-glowing spines, bouncing it back and forth up the length of his body before finally discharging it off his tail and disintegrating one of the loose pieces of equipment. It blew into fragments that bounced off Mak’to’ran’s bioshield as well as the rest of the chamber, but the Hjar’at didn’t seem to mind the impacts on his skin, most of which just bounced off the psionically hardened hide.

“I have been blind to these traitors. You do not know the Zak’de’ron as I did, but then again there are few still living that do. Perhaps their and your ignorance is clouding your judgement. Tell me how you and they think and I will try to ascertain where they have gone awry.”

5

August 4, 3604

Yat’ri System (Hjar’at Regional Capitol)

Hattoman

Mak’to’ran flew down from his Kafcha again, with his drop pod landing in a different part of the planet that had its defensive escorts keeping at a distance while maintaining a perimeter, including the Zen’zat Paklo, leaving only a pair of Hjar’at waiting for the Era’tran when he walked off with his own escorts. They were led inside a facility that was a single building that stretched for over 120 miles, but was still narrow enough to fit into the ridge-like design of most of the rest of the Hjar’at structures.

Yaquik had requested that he meet him here, but it wasn’t until Mak’to’ran got inside that he realized it was a hatchery…a place non Hjar’at were never allowed. Had this been an Era’tran world the same would have been true, and out of respect he stopped just within the entrance.

“Why have I been brought here?” he demanded of his two guides.

“You have been given permission. Yaquik is waiting for you within.”

“This is inappropriate.”

“So others have thought, but his orders stand. Will you follow or will we tell him you refused?”

Mak’to’ran growled slowly, a sound that didn’t phase the Hjar’at in the least. “Very well, but only me. My troops will remain here.”

“That is preferable,” the Hjar’at said as they began to walk on.

Mak’to’ran got several warnings from his fellow Era’tran but he dismissed them instantly, then gave them contingency instructions telepathically as he left them behind at the entrance but still inside the building with a few going back out to stand guard on the exterior. If something did go down here and he needed to run, he wanted his escape route intact.

So far there hadn’t been a second attack, though this was his fourth trip to the surface. The first two had been to meet with Yaquik and the third with the Tayri leadership, all of which occurred under heavy security. This meeting had been scheduled minutes ago so to not allow for any predictability, with his drop pod redirecting from its previous destination to come here. If a trap had been laid for him, then he most likely had just flown away from it and gained a short period of time with Yaquik without having to worry about assassins laying in wait.

Like the other structures, the interior was low ceilinged and widespread, but there was a series of central chambers blocked off from the rest that held the juvenile Hjar’at. Some were so small they could barely walk, while others were moving about in pens as they received their basic training. The central isolated areas were where Mak’to’ran’s guides took him as all eyes, young and old, turned to the Era’tran. The hatchlings either regarded him with open curiosity emanating from them or instinctual fear, for he was the first non-Hjar’at they’d probably ever seen, and their emotions were easy to read because their infantile telepathic skills were transmitting without shielding.

Era’tran had their telepathic skills locked at birth on purpose to avoid issues with development, but apparently the Hjar’at didn’t. Mak’to’ran hadn’t realized that, assuming that such a psionic would be counterproductive at this young an age, and it was a datapoint that he tucked away in memory for future study as he walked out of view and inside the central chambers that were set in a series of lines with gaps between each of them.

The one Mak’to’ran walked into could have held dozens of full grown Hjar’at, but his guides did not follow. They stayed outside while allowing him to walk in amongst the crowded stacks of environmental-controlled benches that held Hjar’at eggs. Yaquik was already there, roaming about and inspecting them as Mak’to’ran joined him with the entry door closing behind.

“I do not belong here.”

“That is why I sent for you,” the Hjar’at admitted. “The more offensive we can make you the better.”

“You have reason to suspect more traitors nearby?”

“I have a point to make, and if I can accomplish multiple objectives simultaneously it is preferable. Do these eggs resemble your own?”

“These are wider, and ours take less time to develop.”

“The Saroto’kanse’vam are the main reason for that.”

“Why am I here?”

“Because of them,” Yaquik said, referring to the eggs. “When we hatch we learn of the galaxy as it is, and it has changed considerably since my first breath. I remember things that you have no knowledge of, and given the current state of the V’kit’no’sat, what will they see and learn of?”

“A lack of unity.”

“That and more, I fear. You had said there was a poison within the V’kit’no’sat, and I have finally found it. It was right before me the entire time and I did not see it because I am dominant, and thus immune. You think us wrong for destroying the Zak’de’ron, but I know better. You do not because you were not born during their time. You only have a brief experience in their decline and the misinformation that was spread afterwards.”

“That misinformation is a symptom of the problem.”

“Not as much as you think. The alterations were made to encourage unity rather than stoke the fires of discord and that has been accomplished whether you agree with it or not, but it hasn’t been enough to read of unity for the newer generations. Essentially we are using vocabulary that they have not learned. They repeat the phrasing and I take them at their word, but they are merely uttering things that they do not comprehend. My insulation from the other Hjar’at has allowed this misunderstanding to occur, and a sleeping giant of ignorance and cowardice has grown in the absence of those killed during the Zak’de’ron War. We lost many of our wisest, and I have often felt alone in their absence. Because of this I kept my interactions with the lesser ones limited, and therein I missed the growth of this arrogance.”

“And now?”

“They must be purged, one way or another.”

“We must do it in a way that does not weaken us any further.”

“I’m afraid that is impossible at this point.”

“I ask that you do not take the most expedient course, but rather the most strategic.”

“You fear a bloodbath?” Yaquik asked, turning his eyes from the eggs to Mak’to’ran.

“I fear the cost of one.”

“And how did the Era’tran cull your arrogant?”

“Slowly.”

“Events are escalating quickly with regards to Terraxis. We do not have the time. That branch of treason could unleash at any moment, and the Hjar’at must purge our heretics in order for us to be united again.”

“How will you identify them?”

“The stupidest will come after you, which is why I ask you to remain for quite a while and play bait.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” Mak’to’ran said, thoroughly displeased. “Hatchlings should not be put at risk.”

Yaquik’s neck jerked in surprised and anger, but it wasn’t directed at Mak’to’ran. “Do you think they’ve fallen that far?”

“I expect no honor from them.”

The Hjar’at’s eyes closed for a long moment, and Mak’to’ran knew he was in a telepathic conversation that he couldn’t eavesdrop on, so he checked in with his escorts who reported no notice of anomalies yet. The facility, or the part he was in, wasn’t seeing any abnormal traffic on the ground or in the air.

“There is no danger at the moment,” Yaquik finally said, “but we are alerted to the possibility. If the traitors strike us here, they will be executed on the spot. Hatcheries are sacrosanct and will be respected.”

“Still, I should not linger.”

“Wrong,” Yaquik said firmly. “Too much is assumed by the younger generations. If the Hjar’at are honorable then it should be tested. Declarations are pointless. If you are here it will provoke a response, one way or another.”

“The hatchlings should not be put at risk,” he repeated.

“They won’t be. We can intercept anyone before they get inside.”

“Unless they are already here.”

“If such a heresy has come to pass, then it may take the blood of those who have not even drawn breath to purge them.”

“If it can be avoided by my leaving…”

“No,” Yaquik said firmly. “We will not live a lie. Either the Hjar’at here are loyal or they are in need of exposing. I do not like putting the hatchlings at risk, but this poison must be drawn out. No exterior threat will make it in here, but if the caretakers are corrupt they must be removed now before they can contaminate the next generation.”

“What exactly have you discovered?” Mak’to’ran asked, twitching his tail in frustration while making sure he didn’t accidentally hit any of the eggs.

“A subset of Hjar’at culture that masquerades as truth, but the words used have different meanings for those that do not understand them. It is a type of code that I did not think to look for, because they speak reason but hear madness. I am curious to know how you dealt with the matter.”

“I was not privy to the actions until after the fact, but personnel movements were heavily used behind the scenes to isolate those tagged before we dealt with them directly.”

“Were they killed?”

“Most were not.”

“Imprisoned?”

“A few. Many had their ignorance cured.”

“How?”

“By showing them the truth…one way or another.”

“Mental invasions?”

“Logic placements. Show someone who truly believes an error and they will hunt it down themselves.”

“I’m afraid that will not work here. There is a defensiveness against ideas that run contrary to their arrogance. That will make it difficult to reason with them, and without Sav they are less likely to grow curious about inconsistencies. If we are to fight this, it will have to be physical.”

“Why didn’t you kill the Hjar’at earlier?”

“Defeat was sufficient, and the dominant will not be tricked into killing. Those Hjar’at that attacked you now live with a shame that will not be removed quickly. That will contain them until they can be salvaged. That was your intent, was it not? To salvage as much as possible prior to the collapse of the empire.”

“It is.”

“Then remain in this system for an extended period of time to assist me with identifying those that are corrupted.”

“By playing bait? I’m getting used to it.”

“Good. Now to the future. What does Hamob plan for the V’kit’no’sat? What is his vision for these hatchlings and those that follow?”

“A V’kit’no’sat that returns to our mandate. We are to fight and one day defeat the Hadarak.”

“Very good. It has been far too long since we made a serious effort to do so. Do the Era’tran intend to exceed the front mandate?”

“No. Races are pulling forces off the front in order to reinforce themselves for the civil war that is looming.”

A single crackle of energy jumped between two spines as Yaquik’s glare deepened. “Yet more treason. We seem to be steeped in an age of it. If the Hjar’at have withdrawn they have hidden it from me. As far as I know we are still petitioning Itaru for more combat. Even the arrogant amongst us want it, though for the wrong reasons.”

“What reason do they have?”

“Rather than being competitive with our fellow V’kit’no’sat they seek to dominate them via diminishment. Gone is the mutual assistance. They want to kill Hadarak to elevate our standing so that we can demand more resources and strategic positioning. At least their courage hasn’t faded too far, though I think many of them are ignorant to what the Hadarak truly are.”

“Many of the arrogant Era’tran appeared to be those who have not fought on the front.”

“And therein lies a contradiction. Those that have do not wish to fight here, for it defies their assertions of dominance. They do not want to prove it, merely to claim and receive the benefits of such assumed dominance. Those that do not know the Hadarak believe in their dominance and want to go there because they expect the Hadarak to fall automatically. There is a rift within the arrogant, and I believe it is this rift that has resulted in our stagnant expansion and lack of progress against the Hadarak. The more arrogant that go there and survive come back and join those in stalling the war. With Hjar’at that heresy has not gone deep, for we want battle for battle’s sake and they have not driven that from our culture. It is those in the other races that hold us back.”

“We can’t launch a rogue attack on the Hadarak or we will weaken ourselves further. The treason of Terraxis already threatens us too much.”

“Unfortunately I agree, but I think a large campaign against the Hadarak would undermine the arrogant considerably and give these hatchlings the stories they need to properly develop. We must not just talk of actions, but provide them for view. Otherwise they will not learn. They will mimic those who do not, and I believe this has been happening for many generations. I did not see it because it has not spread so far to come to my attention…until now. Hamob is annoyingly wise beyond his years.”

“Sav has its advantages,” Mak’to’ran pointed out.

“Indeed it does, which is why I am asking you to stay and help me ferret out the deficiencies here. You may have perspective that I do not, and even if it is flawed it may be helpful.”

“Then I would remind you of the Zak’de’ron. Attacking them was a breach of honor when they did nothing to warrant it. Not sharing was not sufficient reason to breach our bonds of brotherhood, and when it occurred a crack was formed. In order for us to reform the V’kit’no’sat no crack must remain.”

“I will not admit to a mistake we did not make. There are plenty that we did, but removing the Zak’de’ron is not one of them.”

“Refusing to admit you are inferior was the mistake. We should have learned from them rather than demand they give us what they had earned. We did not deserve it. If we had, we would be able to match them at least now given all the time that has passed. Have we proved our equality with them? Have we?” he repeated with a touch of anger in his voice.

“You know we have not.”

“Then we destroyed them because they were superior. That was the first lie that bred the arrogant, who cannot have those superior to them around to expose their denied inferiority.”

“I cannot make you understand knowledge you do not have. The Zak’de’ron were not what you believe them to be.”

“And you are still ignorant. Do you not see the danger in what I just said?”

“Explain, Era’tran.”

“If the same fear is here and now, the fear that those stronger than them are a threat to their arrogance, then what will they do?”

It took Yaquik a moment to process that, but when the epiphany hit he didn’t bother to mask his horror and the hatchlings outside screeched in response to his telepathic knee jerk emission.

“Yes, I fear they are that stupid,” Mak’to’ran said, answering what he knew would be his next question. “They will destroy the empire out of paranoia. Every difference between the races will be viewed as a threat to the ‘equality’ that began with the Zak’de’ron War. Rather than earn dominance, they believe it is their birthright. Can you not see how the first fatal flaw has persisted all these millennia?”

“Perhaps I am making the same mistake again, and others fought the Zak’de’ron for reasons I did not.”

“And what were your reasons?”

“The V’kit’no’sat were created for the single purpose of killing Hadarak, and when Hjar’at ships were being destroyed where Zak’de’ron were not and they refused to share their naval technology, it was a betrayal of the bonds forged. They recruited us to fight and kill, not to die, and the promise to all V’kit’no’sat was the same. We would become one and fight as one, but they never did. They used us as cannon fodder when they could have given us everything they had…and if they did the Hadarak might have been destroyed by now.”

“They didn’t fully trust us.”

“They asked us to trust them and each other, then they broke that trust. Destroying them weakened us far too much, but we were in the right to do so. They betrayed us, not the other way around.”

Mak’to’ran shook his large head slowly. “You still cannot see it, you dumb Hjar’at. They were right not to trust us. They gave us so much of what they had. Advanced us to levels we could never have reached on our own. Then we arrogantly demanded more and turned on them when they didn’t deliver. They wanted us to earn the advancements, and would not give them to those who did not deserve them…in addition to protecting themselves by not sharing everything. Their mistake was that they gave us too much. They made us too strong. So when we did turn on them, they didn’t survive. We betrayed them. Had we been worthy, they may very well have given us more technology to fight with over the course of time.”

“There is no excuse for watching Hjar’at die because we didn’t have the tools needed to fight at their level,” Yaquik argued. “They had them and they didn’t share. And many of us died. Warriors you did not personally know, but I did. They should not have been lost. There is no arguing around that point.”

“We were not on their level. We still aren’t, even after all this time. They were the dominant, and their mistake was in trusting us too much. And we destroyed them for it.”

“If they had fully committed as they demanded of us, this never would have come to pass.”

“Did we deserve peerdom if we couldn’t earn it?”

“Perhaps not,” Yaquik admitted, “but the objective was to kill Hadarak, and they were not as fully committed to that as they demanded of us.”

“And what have we done since regarding the Hadarak?”

The Hjar’at didn’t answer, but Mak’to’ran could tell that he had triggered an epiphany in him, though it turned out not to be the one he had intended.

“We destroyed them, then took their place,” Yaquik said with disgust. “We do less against the Hadarak now than before. We have betrayed our purpose more than the Zak’de’ron ever did, and now we stand on the brink of annihilation.”

“Which is why the V’kit’no’sat must be reforged, and done so in a way that we are what we were meant to be. No arrogance, no suspicion, no pettiness. We have to become one and fight the Hadarak. Anything less and they will win when we destroy ourselves and they reclaim the galaxy.”

Yaquik was silent for a long moment, staring at the eggs and then finally returned his gaze to Mak’to’ran.

“Death before dishonor. I will not let that come to pass for the Hjar’at or the V’kit’no’sat.”

“Then we have a lot of work to do.”

“Us more than the Era’tran, it seems. Thank you for coming here.”

“Thank you for listening.”

“We may seem slow of mind compared to you, but we are not dumb. We just don’t like to relinquish ground already taken.”

“Hamob had to instruct me in many things that I did not realize, so do not think me too wise.”

“Agreed. Now let me teach you something Era’tran are sorely in need of.”

“And what is that?”

“Come with me and find out,” Yaquik said as he mentally raised the door and began to walk out of the egg chamber.

6

August 9, 3604

Yat’ri System (Hjar’at Regional Capitol)

Hattoman

Mak’to’ran was in his drop pod rising back to orbit several days later after a long tour of Hattoman’s selective shipyards when the Zen’zat pilots suddenly entered his mind with a quick query that he had to act on instantly. Fortunately his mental speed was faster than theirs and he responded instantly, trusting in the warning that had just been broadcast to them and ordering the drop pod to make an emergency landing.

The pod immediately reversed course, not just letting gravity pull it back down but accelerating towards the planet so fast it became a fireball that leveled out between the ridge-like buildings then hovered there as Mak’to’ran accessed the comm and told the pilots to hold position until he had somewhere else for them to go. Meanwhile he watched the building defense weaponry in case they might also come online, but as of yet they had not.

He conferred with his ship in orbit and had it also run…but further up the gravity well than down, because the warning he’d been given was that one of the planetary defense batteries had gone rogue and was intending to shoot down his drop pod. Somehow he’d escaped that, whether by the actions of the Hjar’at on the ground or the angle of the planet’s curve. He hadn’t been told where the battery was, but right now the only safe place to be was below the sky where the big guns couldn’t reach.

But there were many smaller ones around that could do a lot of damage, and with his drop pod unable to flee to orbit he was in a particularly bad situation. Going to ground would be the only option, and he had no way of knowing whether the Hjar’at beneath his now random position would be friendly or hostile.

His Kafcha made it to higher orbit without being fired upon, but an escort fleet went with it keeping their respectful distance as other ships were seen heading its way. Mak’to’ran split his attention from what was around him on the ground and what was happening in orbit as he saw several Hjar’at ships attempt to get near the Era’tran vessel, but the escort ships got between them and backed them off without a fight, and by the time Yaquik contacted him no assault had yet come against his hovering drop pod.

“Stay below altitude and travel here,” he said over comm as additional data flowed in to Mak’to’ran. “Your route has been secured.”

“What happened?”

“This treason is deeper than anticipated. You were right about me being blind, and I’m about to find out how much, but I need to secure you first.”

“Give me a conduit to orbit if you can.”

“No. You are not running. We are fixing this here and now.”

“How?”

“I am assigning a protector to you for the time being. One that I can trust. Get to the rendezvous and in her care.”

“Her? You’re entrusting my security to females?”

“They might not have Saroto’kanse’vam, but do not think they cannot fight. Moreover I have just ensured that she is safe, but I can’t speak for any other individual on this planet.”

“Your broodmate?”

Yaquik’s holographic face wrinkled in disgust. “Mating is left to those without other skills. She is chief builder in this system and has the resources to secure your drop pod where others will not expect it to go.”

“And when they follow?”

“The infrastructure defenses will be with you.”

“And you trust this one Hjar’at why?”

“Because she submitted to a mental scan. I am going to secure others with or without permission.”

Mak’to’ran stiffened. Mental barriers were the most secured defenses an individual had, otherwise one could enter their mind and potentially take control of their body, let alone ransack their memories and other knowledge. Mental defense was one of the first skills that Era’tran hatchlings were taught when they were finally allowed their Ikrid, and over the course of years one’s mind became so well armored that such manipulation became effectively impossible. Mind raids were doable if the individual was weaker or not as skilled, but taking full control of another did not happen unless the target was so inferior to the point of incompetence.

Furthermore, it was a point of pride to keep one’s thoughts private and that was not something unique to the Era’tran. To mentally assault one in combat was bad enough, but to interrogate another deeply in this manner was rarely done. Reaching in to find a bit of information was tricky, but not a lengthy or painful procedure. To ensure that someone was loyal would require a level of prying that would be highly invasive and a breach of honor amongst most V’kit’no’sat races. To call into question one’s loyalty without evidence to the contrary was…unheard of, and any such attempts to leverage one into giving up their mental sovereignty had been trounced in the past as a form of treason in and of itself.

If the V’kit’no’sat were not loyal to one another and the cause, then there were no V’kit’no’sat. Loyalty was a default, and proving it through mental invasion was something that had never happened before, not to mention was a deep insult and grounds to get your ass kicked instantly and without repercussion for the defender.

“Era’tran would not submit to that, and I doubt male Hjar’at are going to be any more accepting.”

“Now it is you that underestimate the seriousness of the situation. You said the empire is dying, but that death is going to be one of chaos if we cannot trust our own planetary defenses not to shoot down our own ships. We cannot function with such distrust. If assassinations are tolerated then those of us that are most valuable will be eliminated one by one. If the Hjar’at are going to avoid descending into madness and anarchy we must have a secure foothold to operate out of. Do you know of another way to secure one?”

When Yaquik asked Mak’to’ran could tell that he was serious. If the Era’tran knew another way he wanted to know, for it was clear he did not want to use this tactic.

“There is no other way to be certain, but to go down that path is a serious defeat in and of itself.”

“To ignore that the defeat has already occurred in silence would be folly. Agreed?”

“The Era’tran have not dropped this far.”

“Yet it seems we have. I have no intention of checking the loyalty of Era’tran or any other race. This is an internal Hjar’at matter. I will not harbor traitors only to have them stab me in the back during a moment of opportunity. If we cannot trust one another we cannot function.”

“I do not want to see this occur, but I cannot logically argue against it. Just be aware of the cost that such a breach will ensue.”

“It is better than the alternative. I need you secure before this begins.”

“The female agreed to it?”

“Yes. Her name is Bul’raf and she is the only person on this planet other than myself you should fully trust. Get to her now. I fear this planet may well explode if I am unsuccessful.”

“How will you go about it?”

“By placing the burden on myself. Hopefully there is enough trust in me to salvage some unity.”

“You know I cannot help you with this.”

“Nor should you,” Yaquik said with a sneer. “This is our problem. We will solve it or die trying without Era’tran help. And I expect you to be responsible for your own race, however you choose to handle it. If we cannot stand on our own, then any bonds between us will be corrupted by default. The Hjar’at are unfit to be V’kit’no’sat at present. I intend to return us to a proper state no matter how much resistance I encounter.”

“And you’re sure you want me on the planet rather than on my ship?”

“I cannot guarantee you will not be shot down trying to return to orbit. Right now you are too valuable as a thorn against the arrogant to lose. We need you alive. When I have secured a corridor to orbit I will inform you. Until then get to ground and survive.”

“And what of Bul’raf’s subordinates?”

“I only had time to verify her loyalty, but I trust in her judgement. She will put redundancies into any security plan. A single traitor will not get to you, and if a conspiracy overwhelms her I expect you to be able to handle a group of females. If you cannot, then you do not deserve to be V’kit’no’sat.”

“The males will be told to stay away?”

“Yes. If any approach shoot them on sight.”

“Very well. We are getting underway now,” Mak’to’ran said as he ordered the Zen’zat to follow the route provided. “Be certain before you begin this. There will be no going back.”

“Our past is already destroyed. We must reforge a new future. That I will discuss with you later…if we both survive this. See that you do.”

“I never expected this mission to be a safe one.”

“If it comes to it, use your talons to uppercut the underside of the neck. You will need to get low to do it.”

“I’ll remember that. And I promise the Era’tran will support any loyal V’kit’no’sat Hjar’at. No matter how small that number may be.”

“A discussion for later, but I may hold you to that sooner than you expect if this goes poorly. Fortune to you.”

“And you,” Mak’to’ran said as the elder Hjar’at broke the comm.

For a long moment Mak’to’ran just stood inside the drop pod as the Zen’zat handled the flight. He didn’t do anything externally, but his mind flashed through so many possibilities that he couldn’t have kept track had he wanted to. What Yaquik was about to do was wrong and against everything it meant to be V’kit’no’sat, but it was also the only way to fight this madness. If the Era’tran took this approach it would destroy their civilization. Even Hamob hadn’t gone so far as to probe Mak’to’ran when he had first broken through his defenses. He’d made a point of doing so in order to test his strength, but left him with his privacy out of respect.

A civilization could not function with constant mental loyalty checks. Individuality would vanish and with it their strength, but if Yaquik could isolate even a small number of individuals that were loyal and allowed him to enter their minds willingly it would still be a serious violation…but V’kit’no’sat had gone to much greater physical lengths to accomplish a mission and in a sense this was no different. Mak’to’ran once knew an Era’tran that blocked a falling rock wall with his tail to protect the head of another. His tail was destroyed in the process and later regrown, but he’d chosen to take the hit rather than risk the other Era’tran taking brain damage that might not have been able to be regenerated.

Accepting a mental invasion of this magnitude wouldn’t leave one physically damaged, but unlike the Dan’chey most V’kit’no’sat races did not share their minds and the presence of another going that deep was going to leave one…

Actually, Mak’to’ran didn’t know what would happen. A light incursion would leave one rattled, he knew from experience, for in the Hakja they practiced defending against mental attacks by losing. Their sparring partners were always more powerful and would hold back from some areas, but he’d never liked such incursions. It was said to be better that the first time be by an ally than an enemy, and he was now mentally stronger for having experienced it and adapted his defenses to counter future incursions, but it had always left him feeling violated. If it hadn’t been for the very carefully crafted environment in which it had occurred, he wondered if he would have been able to put himself back together afterward.

And the depth of probe that Yaquik was going to have to use would be far more intense and prolonged…unless his superior mental abilities would make the process more efficient. That was a possibility, but honestly Mak’to’ran had no idea how powerful Yaquik’s Ikrid was or how skilled he was at mental invasion. He hoped his skills would diminish the lingering effect, especially for his contact, Bul’raf, for her mind had to have been raided minutes ago and he doubted she had been able to fully recover.

But if Yaquik was speaking the truth she would be reliable, and right now he’d take a weakened, confirmed ally over a questionable stranger.

The journey across the planet was a long, slow one at the low altitude required by the route Yaquik had provided and many varied craft paced them along portions of the journey. Thankfully they were all there to help rather than shoot and the Era’tran drop pod arrived safely at a massive reconstruction effort that was seeing the deconstruction of a swath of the planet’s surface with some new and larger structures already beginning to replace them.

The drop pod was directed to one of the evacuated areas where partially demolished structures still stood. When Mak’to’ran landed there was only a handful of craft nearby, all of which were crewed by females, one of whom walked out and stood in front of his pod while signaling her identity telepathically.

Mak’to’ran made sure that his Zen’zat pilots kept watch on the pod’s sensors, then he lowered the ramp and walked out to the spineless Hjar’at as he sensed her lingering mental wounds. Her telepathic aura was chaotic but somewhat contained. Her pain was evident, but buried just below it was a resolve that stood in stronger contrast. She was shaken, but recovering with every second that passed as she clung to her new duty, which she was making clear by allowing Mak’to’ran access to her surface thoughts, though her inner barriers, while still in tatters, were holding protectively over an area where Mak’to’ran knew better than to probe, else her fragile grip on internal control could shatter.

She was very vulnerable right now and he hoped her subordinates didn’t contain a traitor, for they could topple her easily.

“You have sacrificed a great deal to insure your loyalty, Hjar’at. I can feel the severity of your wounds. You should wear an inhibitor until you recover your strength.”

“I already have one standing by, but I did not want to hide myself from you, for it is you that must trust me. Your survival is paramount and I will not fail Yaquik due to mistrust between us.”

“My trust you have. Shield yourself before another realizes your weakness.”

Bul’raf telepathically signaled to one of the ships that, while small compared to most, were still larger than his drop pod. Out of it came another female carrying a bit of equipment on her back, held there on a platform that was strapped on and apparently standard equipment for a Hjar’at builder…and something the males could not wear with their Saroto’kanse’vam.

Bul’raf took the items off the platform then the assistant retreated into the vessel after a long look at Mak’to’ran as the remaining Hjar’at slid on a special helmet that completely blocked the Era’tran from her mind. He couldn’t even sense her presence, and he knew it would also inhibit her telepathy, meaning she could only communicate by comm while wearing it, which was why few ever did.

She also put on armor that deployed into a construction suit that integrated with the helmet and did a good job of camouflaging it as the two sets of material flowed together seamlessly, though the cranium was a bit thicker than the rest of the piecemeal suit’s thickness. That said, he wasn’t very familiar with construction armor and didn’t know how much the helmet would stand out on the powered exoskeleton, but it would prevent anyone from taking advantage of an unthinkable injury that most would not even suspect.

“What do you require of me, Era’tran?” she asked when fully outfitted. “Besides security.”

“My pod has enough supplies for the moment. Depending on how long we are to remain here we may require more.”

“How many are inside?”

“We are four Era’tran and six Zen’zat.”

“When needed, tell me what you require and I will find an untainted supply,” she said, fully aware of other means of assassination than direct attack. “As for now, we will create some makeshift facilities concealed in the rubble for you to use if you feel the drop pod is too conspicuous a target. Others will maintain a distant perimeter guard and we will monitor all those who approach. If one is not cleared we will alert you immediately.”

“Acceptable. What is the condition of the undercity?”

“Broken but potentially passable. I have engineers on patrol and we will seal the surface access points as we work. We will not make it easy to get to you, and we have portable shield generators being shipped in, but they will not be able to protect against a significant naval assault. If that occurs you can take cover in escape routes we are constructing below ground or you can try and flee skyward. If there are any other precautions you wish, state them and I will do my best to create them as quickly as possible with minimal staff.”

“How loyal is your staff?”

“I do not doubt them, but I am not risking your security on that assumption. They will not approach your drop pod and any physical contact will only occur by me. They are ordered to stay back at all other times. I do trust them, but precautions are being taken in case that trust is misplaced.”

7

Several hours later Yaquik summoned the regional capitol’s leaders to the conclave, with the 14 of them waiting for him to arrive in what amounted to an audience chamber. When the elder Hjar’at appeared he did so wearing full, undeployed body armor which immediately caused a twitch to run through those assembled as he mentally locked the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Bair’te asked.

“Did you not hear of the incident with the planetary defense gun?” he asked as he walked towards the group, half of which were reclining on elevated pedestals and manipulating holograms.

“We were told those involved had been captured.”

“They have been, but the Era’tran are not leaving the planet until I can assure them that they won’t be shot down by our own weapons.”

“Are some of the perpetrators still unaccounted for?” Neo’thaq asked.

“Do none of you see the problem?” Yaquik asked disappointed.

“We can’t know how many more there are amongst us,” Keevyat said, walking up towards the larger Hjar’at. “Another gun could be compromised, or those we put in their place could also be corrupted.”

“Do not be paranoid,” Vitt’rol criticized as those working holograms began shutting them down and turning their full attention to the argument breaking out. “These few dissenters are not a major threat.”

“If an Era’tran dies,” Yaquik said, turning his attention to Vitt’rol, “does it become a major problem then?”

“If that happens, the assassins will not be able to flee. We will identify and capture them.”

“Their mission will still have succeeded. We gave the Era’tran our promise of safe passage, and we are presented with a situation where our own people are not honoring this pledge. Furthermore they are defying direct orders. This is far more serious than you are admitting.”

“What do you wish us to do, Yaquik?”

“I do not like this course of action, but this is the only one left to us. If we cannot trust one another then we do not deserve to be V’kit’no’sat, and I will not wait until the Era’tran or loyal Hjar’at are killed to underscore the point. Our race has become compromised by more than a few dissenters,” he said, eyeing Vitt’rol before sweeping his gaze across the others. “We cannot tolerate the death of even one.”

“No one is,” Gorgat argued.

“You do so with your apathy. Why have you not made sweeping changes in security after the first attack? You have done nothing, and thus permit this treason by not opposing it.”

“Treason is too harsh, Yaquik. These are rogues and they will be dealt with individually. This is not an assault on the V’kit’no’sat nor our race. Assassinations are not permitted, but they are not unheard of either. We will deal with the guilty individuals appropriately. Their motivation is irrelevant.”

“No. You do not see the threat…or perhaps you are one of them.”

That sent twitches through several of the Hjar’at, for now the eldest among them was insinuating treason amongst those gathered here.

“You challenge me without a shred of proof? I have done nothing.”

“Nor did the others until they found an opportunity to strike. If we cannot relax amongst our own people and have to watch our back every moment for fear of being attacked on our most secure worlds, then we are dysfunctional and I will not allow that to persist.”

“What has Gorgat done, specifically?” Yaara demanded as he walked up next to and slightly in front of the other Hjar’at, putting his right shoulder in between him and Yaquik.

“Hopefully nothing, but we cannot let these assassins rule. They have the advantage of anonymity until they strike, and they will throw us into anarchy even if they do not attack again. Merely their presence will undermine us, but their actions with the defense gun say they want to do more than disrupt. They want to kill those who do not agree with them. We are in great peril and action must be taken.”

“We can temporarily disable our anti-orbital batteries while the Era’tran return to orbit,” Bair’te suggested.

“The traitors will remain in our midst afterward, and we cannot have those of us who have survived so many years only to be destroyed by our own kin in cowardly attacks. We cannot allow even one, and waiting till they successfully strike the Era’tran or our own is pointless. If we wait they succeed, and given how many attacked us the first time they have to be very widespread. How much so I do not know, but there is one way to find out.”

“They have to be communicating and organizing somehow. There’s a trail to be found somewhere.”

“No,” Yaquik said firmly. “We could never be sure we found them all. Our loyalty to the V’kit’no’sat and our race is the foundation on which our civilization is built. That foundation has crumbled and must be reformed. The Era’tran were able to do so more slowly, weeding out their own traitors, but we do not have the luxury of time. I apologize for what must be done, but there is only one option. Our race is unfit for duty until our loyalty can be confirmed, and every moment that goes by is further shame heaped upon us.”

“How do we confirm loyalty without mental scans?” Pirr’at asked.

Yaquik stared at him with a look of resignation. “We cannot.”

“No!” Gorgat said, splaying his legs wide in an attack stance. “You will not commit this heresy.”

“There is only one way I can be assured of your allegiance. You will either submit for a full mental scan willingly or I will force it upon you, the latter of which will be far more damaging. But as a civilization we cannot continue on as we are.”

Gorgat’s Saroto’kanse’vam flared into brilliant blue as he held his position, indicating his utter defiance.

“Gorgat!” Sha’brel all but screamed, but the other Hjar’at didn’t take his gaze off of Yaquik.

“I think his treason is obvious,” Yaquik said with a growl.

“I will not be mind raided in some perverse loyalty test,” he all but spat.

“So you use your Saroto’kanse’vam?” Sha’brel said like a knife being thrust into his opponent.

“I will defend myself.”

“As will I,” Har’kat said, walking up beside Gorgat and igniting his own spines as several others began to walk and position themselves in varying places.

“So I expected,” Yaquik said evenly as his jewelry-like armor melted and quickly expanded to cover his entire body save for the clear shard-like spines and spikes running the length of his neck, back, and tail. “No one leaves this room until I have confirmed your loyalty. Those wishing to object may do so now, otherwise stay out of the way.”

“Yaquik!” another Hjar’at yelled in exasperation, but the time for talk was over. The elder and largest of the Hjar’at launched himself forward and absorbed an energy discharge from Gorgat on his shields, not even bothering to ignite his own Saroto’kanse’vam. Traitors as some of these elder Hjar’at were he was not going to stoop to their level and attack with his own…nor did he need to.

Yaquik fired several stun weapons equipped in his armor, keeping his aim low so the Saroto’kanse’vam dome wouldn’t interfere with them. They’d still penetrate, but the effect could be reduced considerably with the mixing of matrixes so he aimed for Gorgat’s exposed feet and began numbing up his legs with several hits as not one, but three Hjar’at charged him in attempted battle rams, stupid as it was with them having no armor, but these ‘arrogant,’ as Mak’to’ran had described them, were proving to be just that.

Yaquik threw up a huge Fornax field, then proceeded to physically batter them aside with a combination of side slaps and tail whips, all the while putting stun shots into them that further hindered their coordination. Within less than 20 seconds all three were tripping over themselves trying to get up off the ground as Yaquik paced around them eyeing the others.

“You will submit or be disabled. If you are unconscious the process will be much more complicated.”

“If we are cleared, then we will proceed to do the same with others until the system is cleansed of heresy?” Voto’kan asked.

“No. Our minds are meant to be sovereign. This is a betrayal that I must commit, and I alone will commit it.”

“There are too many Hjar’at.”

“I will start with those highest placed and work my way down. As soon as we have enough cleared I will reassign them to the planetary defenses and other key systems. We will regain marginal control and deal with the masses later.”

“Better if he does it,” Bair’te added. “A weaker mind would have to work harder to break through reflexive barriers.”

“I still do not think this is wise.”

“It is reckless,” Yaquik agreed, “but if we are engaged in battle do we stay back and contemplate or dive in amongst our enemies? Do we take the Era’tran method and slowly vet our population through other means that could be compromised, accepting what deaths and other forms of treason occur in the meantime, or do we face this directly, here and now, and do what has to be done to reforge our civilization?”

“The assassins think they strike out of the shadows at will,” Voto’kan echoed. “As such they will have a perpetual advantage so long as new recruits can be secured. They do not have to hold ground, but can strike anywhere while appearing to be allies. I could be eating tomorrow and the Hjar’at beside me could attack without warning. Mental violations are severe, but we will survive them. We cannot tolerate this heresy, and if we must face pain to purge it from our ranks permanently then that is what we shall do. We are warriors, and we will take the hit if we must for the sake of the Hjar’at. I have but one question.”

“Ask it.”

“How widespread are these traitors in other races? You mentioned the Era’tran, but what of others? And are they connected to Terraxis?”

“I have been blind to their presence until recently. The Era’tran warn of them in every race and in having at least nominal control of Itaru. Their connection to Terraxis is probable, but not confirmed. As you said, they lurk in the shadows and are difficult to isolate prior to them revealing themselves in an attack.”

“What is their end goal?” Bair’te asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Voto’kan said firmly. “We must purge them from our ranks, after which we can get whatever answers we need. Our civilization bonds must be restored. I will lower my defenses as much as I can, but do what you must to confirm my loyalty, Yaquik. If we cannot trust you, then our race is doomed.”

Voto’kan walked up near the golden armored warrior and laid down on the ground with his legs tucked underneath as he tried to undo as much of the layering of mental defenses that he had accumulated over his 1.3 million years of existence, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to consciously lower them all…and the remainder would have to be broken through.

“I take no pleasure in this, but it must be done,” Yaquik said as he made contact with his mind.

“Be swift, but thorough. I want all question of my loyalty resolved.”

“It will be,” the eldest Hjar’at said as he probed deeper, allowing Voto’kan to see his gradual advancement as he checked surface thoughts and other painlessly accessible areas that were willingly opened up, but the deeper Yaquik moved the more resistance there was until the blocks over his base personality and motivations slammed shut involuntarily. When that happened the real damage occurred, for Yaquik pushed back so hard he shattered the first few instantly.

The rest that followed felt like a fragmentation grenade going off in Voto’kan’s mind, but knowing that this was his duty he suffered through it until Yaquik eventually retreated, but most of the pain did not and his defenses recovered themselves as well as a door slamming shut now filled with gaping holes.

“Your loyalty is intact,” Yaquik declared, “and trust restored. Who will be next?” he said as he shot the partially stunned Hjar’at again as they began to make progress in standing back up and crawling off. When they slumped back down still partially conscious the youngest of those assembled walked up to Yaquik and took his place beside where Voto’kan was visibly crying as he tried to pull himself together.

“Make sure we are not attacked in the aftermath,” he requested, taking a similar seated position on the floor and tucking his legs underneath himself so he could flex them unseen against the ravages to come.

“I will guard any loyal Hjar’at with my life,” Yaquik promised, then began his second mental invasion with many more to come.

By the time he’d finished with all 14 of them a crowd had assembled outside the locked doors, for they’d heard the mental screams and were on the verge of blasting their way inside but assurances from Yaquik kept them at bay long enough for him to finish. When he did the guards and others outside entered in a rush, seeing 14 Hjar’at either laying on the ground or stumbling around awkwardly.

“Take them to confinement and hold them there until I personally release them,” he ordered, mentally directing the guards to the 5 Hjar’at whose loyalty test had failed, Gorgat included.

“What?”

“You do not need to understand. Simply obey and you will be informed later.”

“Do it,” Voto’kan agreed. “They are traitors.”

“Tar’nakis!” Yaquik roared, with the other Hjar’at flinching then turning around to look at one of the crowd pinned between dozens of other bodies that were flooding into the chamber. “Step forward you coward.”

All eyes turned on him, and for a long moment he didn’t move as he tried to figure out what was going on. Someone else in the crowd beat him to it, then shared the realization of the mental raids with everyone else telepathically. There was a mix of stunned silence and outroar, the latter part of which had bodies moving around erratically. Some moving forward in rage and others turning to flee out of fear. Tar’nakis tried to leave with the latter, but Yaquik smashed through the crowd to get to him, resulting in a short chase through two levels before body slamming him into a nearby support column.

“Submit,” he said with disdain. “Your treason will not be hard to uncover, for I already know where to look.”

“You’ve crossed a line that Itaru will not let you live to regret.”

“We are Hjar’at,” Yaquik said, kicking him in the gut as he likewise rammed his Ikrid into his mind and forcefully grappled with the unwilling target in a losing effort for Tar’nakis. “We take care of our own internal disruptions. As for Itaru, we will deal with those traitors once we have our own civilization in order.”

“You…will be…executed…for this.”

“We are V’kit’no’sat. The dominant rule, and your cowardice prevents you from ever becoming so. If I am wrong, please demonstrate otherwise,” Yaquik said as he increased his mental attacks to the level where Tar’nakis could do nothing but vainly try and slow him down while Yaquik multitasked and communicate with others to ensure that those loyal Hjar’at in the conclave came to no harm in their diminished state.

He was going to assemble a core of trusted individuals to fight this battle with, but until they were established every one that he confirmed would be in a vulnerable position until they could recover their strength…and that could take weeks depending on the severity of their injuries.

8

August 17, 3604

Yat’ri System (Hjar’at Regional Capitol)

Hattoman

Very little word from Yaquik made its way to Mak’to’ran over the following days save for brief snippets of news coverage accompanied by highlight text. They were detailing a series of fights on the planet’s surface, but thankfully none were close by and the rage of anarchy hadn’t yet sprung up in full force. The battles appeared to be fierce with numerous casualties reported…and the severed head of one Hjar’at bespoke the depths of these traitors’ heresy. According to the news reports Saroto’kanse’vam were being used, and Mak’to’ran had thought he’d never seen a Hjar’at look so afraid.

But the fear was justified. If this was as deep an affront as Yaquik had explained then younger minds would react to it even more strongly. The fear of suddenly being killed by those beside you would drive a wave of paranoia into the planet’s population if not for the additional reports of the counterattack, for many of the battles were not being started by assassins, but rather Yaquik’s loyalist forces as they rooted out individuals and regions rife with treachery, all the while NOT using their Saroto’kanse’vam for more than defensive blocks.

Lopsided as that was, it seemed to make it clear which side was in the right and had probably avoided the mass insanity that such destabilizing undercurrents could produce, but after three days word of the loyalty checks became public and drove their own wedge into the planet’s inhabitants. Doing such a thing was almost as bad as a Hjar’at using their Saroto’kanse’vam against another and there was considerable uproar over the breach of privacy, quelled only by the fact that it was Yaquik along who was conducting the tests, but even then there were Hjar’at refusing to yield…which added to the list of battles being fought.

But no Hjar’at was dying at the hands of the loyalists. They were defeating, subduing, and capturing their opposition even while losing a few of their own. Reports were most were revivable, but a handful had been confirmed irrevocably dead and that threw another orb into the flames. The Hjar’at news service for the planet was an open format one, and while Yaquik’s brief messages had directed him to selective feeds he also had access to the others and spent a great deal of time digging through them.

There was a huge rift forming within the Hjar’at, with the majority of the planet still trying to fathom how and where this conflict had arisen from. Many trusted Yaquik, but the mind raids put them on a very narrow edge of support that amounted to neutrality. If his people started killing Hjar’at then that would tip the scales…many had stated…and the same went for mass loyalty checks. If he alone was doing them that did not endanger the masses, for he was only one and could not get through them all, plus he was one that could be trusted in your mind where underlings would not be tolerated.

There were many subfactions forming with reservations or fears, but as news of the new battles springing up incited more protestations and calls for the Hjar’at capitol of Mavro to come and take control, information began to get released on the particulars of the treason taking place and Mak’to’ran quickly realized why Yaquik was too busy to contact him directly.

The elder Hjar’at knew he had to lay this heresy out for all to see and he was doing just that, taking some memories from the discovered traitors and loading them into digital engrams. The Era’tran seldom used such technology, preferring the precision of artificial constructs, but the computerized memories were something more common amongst the races without Sav and the uploaded memories being transmitted over comm channels and stored for any and all to review were damning.

Creating an engram without permission was a deep violation of not just Hjar’at protocol but also of Itaru’s edicts, so when Yaquik began publishing these engrams he lost a lot of support…up until bits of the conspiracy were laid bare and the loyal Hjar’at on the planet could see the treason with their own minds. Most acknowledged the trespass had been necessary, but there were some sticklers for protocol that he permanently lost the support of, or so they said. Hjar’at were notoriously blunt, and while all races were capable of lying they were more disinclined to it than others. Some said that was because they were not as smart, but Mak’to’ran knew it to be a behavioral tilt originating from their genetic code and necessary to excel in combat.

For if you operated with delusions, you often did not survive very long. And frequent liars often had trouble maintaining the truth as a separate entity within their own minds.

But for as many supporters that he lost, Yaquik gained far more from those that viewed the engrams and saw through the somewhat vague and inaccurate memories of the traitors as they discussed how to hobble all races within the V’kit’no’sat by varying means in order to ensure that no one rose to become greater than the others. Competition was deemed unhealthy and order was to be maintained by culling the strongest and weakest, leaving only normal, functional V’kit’no’sat behind.

How they accomplished this was mostly theoretical, but with Yaquik having arranged the engrams in scaling priority for viewing they went from talk to action, showing the poisoning of eggs that were then discarded when no longer viable and the falsifying of birthing data to cover it up. More than that, there were multiple assassinations that were covered up as accidents, but they were directed towards eliminating the weak rather than the strong. Individuals that were too lowly placed to be noticed and not performing up to the expectations of the V’kit’no’sat were being weeded out slowly, and not fast enough as far as the traitors were concerned, but there was only so much they could do without greater support and numbers.

And those numbers they tried to increase via propaganda, incentivizing, and intimidation. How ‘equal’ the races and individuals were was not a clear cut paradigm. Races always had variations in biology and tendencies, and as a result Itaru and others were going to have to constantly be balancing and rebalancing in response to trends, during which there would be opportunities for some to advance, although temporarily, while they also saw their opposition be reduced.

It was not seen as a popular thing, but the traitors had learned how to lightly seek out those who were of at least partial like mind and weave them into their web…or distance themselves again under plausible reasons without giving away their true intent. The Hjar’at in particular were viewed as obstinate and needing to be chipped away at rather than having a hammer blow laid upon them out of fear that such a thing would cause more damage than good. Attack a Hjar’at directly and you’d never dissuade them, but poke and pry and connive and you could get them to change course without even realizing what was going on.

What was missing from the engrams were communications with other races. Everything here was Hjar’at based, but Mak’to’ran could see the words of others in their thoughts. This heresy did not originate here, but there was no way of tracking it so long as Yaquik didn’t discover a mind who did have contact with traitors from elsewhere in the empire. As it was, it seemed he had plenty of local corruption to root out, and given the size of the planet he could be at this a very long time with only a handful of loyal supporters that he could actively trust.

So when Yaquik did contact him via hologram it came as a bit of a surprise.

“I trust you are well?” the Hjar’at asked.

“We have been undisturbed.”

“Good,” he said, visibly tired. “I have secured a path to orbit for you. All major weapon systems within firing range are under my direct control and you’ll have a Zen’zat only escort to protect against smaller ones. If this heresy has reached their ranks…”

“Have you confirmed their loyalty?”

“A few commanding your assembling escort, but I could not get to them all. My Ikrid strength is failing and I have combat to personally lead. I will not be making many more loyalty checks until I can recover, but I now have a small group that can be trusted. Growing it will take time, but I am removing all others from priority planetary positions and replacing them with my own.”

“What about fleet commanders?”

“The top 3 have submitted for verification and I have cleared them. They will ensure you are protected in orbit.”

“If this is what Hamob intended to happen here, he did not share it with me.”

Yaquik twitched his head in a dismissive manner.

“It matters not now. This is a Hjar’at problem and we will see it solved. You have aided us greatly, and the debt will not be forgotten. You are free to leave when you wish.”

“I will return to orbit, but I will remain in the system a while longer if it does not hinder you.”

“You wish to discuss Itaru?”

“Amongst other things. There is a lot happening here and I would prefer to deliver a complete report rather than rely on the Urrtren. If these traitors are willing to kill other V’kit’no’sat then information control is not hard to imagine.”

“How certain are you of the Urrtren relays in Era’tran territory?”

“I suspect that has been seen to, but it has not come up in my discussions with Hamob. I will make inquiries.”

“We need to establish a secure line from here to your territory, and for the time being that will have to be via courier. Given that I do not have sufficient personnel that can be trusted, I need your ships for that.”

“Done.”

“And we will need to build independent transmitters. Seizing communal ones is a step too far at this juncture.”

“You anticipate a full war coming?”

“Unless the traitors back down, but I don’t think that will happen if they are stronger in other races. As it is, I’m going to have to secede this system from the rest of the Hjar’at civilization and slowly bring back in the other pieces. I will have a difficult time with many on Mavro, even if they are not traitors, but this must be done and the time is long overdue.”

“Would Era’tran assistance hurt or help?”

“I do not know. There are many uncertainties as of this moment and I have much to do. My duty to you is to see you out of this system safely, and if you wish to remain longer you may do so, but we will not have a great deal of time for discussion in the coming days. I must continue to be swift before the opposition can organize. They are scattered as moles throughout the system in order to avoid detection and are ill-prepared for direct assaults.”

“Sabotage?”

“There have already been two such attacks. If they escalate and damage too much of our infrastructure, we may need logistical assistance.”

“Securing loyal V’kit’no’sat is the Era’tran’s prime priority, though I do not know the current state of our reserves. I would assume we would give you whatever you require.”

“I do not like asking, but this system’s ability to sustain itself is limited. If certain facilities are destroyed we will be hurting for supplies and I have uncovered some plots to do so already.”

“May I suggest that an Era’tran fleet sitting by uninvolved in stellar orbit may help to provide some stability.”

“Internally no, it would not, but if we are weakened and others sense an opportunity…”

“What?” Mak’to’ran asked, getting a strange sense from Yaquik’s body language.

“Am I wrong in assuming that the tipping point has already been reached?”

“How so?”

“The conspirators behind Terraxis are still unknown. I am doing what must be done here, but will it trigger an onslaught within the empire?”

“That depends greatly on who is responsible.”

“Will my actions here give others the plausibility to lay blame on me? That this is the first stage of a revolt connected with Terraxis and the altered Hadarak?”

“It very well could if certain factions pushed that lie.”

“You told me that Hamob sent you on a lengthy mission in order to be a rallying point for the oppressed loyalists.”

“How long is still a lingering question for me, but that is part of his intent. I do not pretend to fully understand the depth of his plans.”

“Is he also using you to draw the attention and ire of Itaru away from the Era’tran?”

“Yes, but he is aware that is just a stalling tactic. My ship cannot continue without periodic resupply and I have already returned to Jamtren once. There will be no pretense as to my base of support, but the Era’tran will not advertise it in order to stretch this out.”

“Before the snapback occurs?”

“I believe so, though I only have compartmentalized information regarding our strategy.”

“The Hjar’at will not oppose you, at least not in military strength. I’ll have their attention focused here. Without a unified civilization we cannot launch an assault against the Era’tran. Who then do you think would strike you down?”

“If either the Oso’lon or J’gar do they would practically be admitting to fault. They are hindered by Terraxis and stand on the verge of suffering the full backlash of the empire. They can do nothing but stay out of the way and defend their territory.”

“Or shift blame to others,” Yaquik suggested.

“In which case who would oppose the Era’tran?”

“None of us can do so singly outside the Oso’lon. The J’gar could navally, but they would gut their fleet bashing planetary shields without a ground assault force. We would be the most likely candidate, so how free are you now to act boldly?”

“A good question, and one I cannot fully answer. The Pas’cha and Zep’sha working together would be the most probable, but their ties to the Oso’lon are too close,” Mak’to’ran said, referring to the other two long-necked V’kit’no’sat races that were essentially cousins to the Oso’lon. The Pas’cha had shorter rear legs and a more upright stance with their heads towering over the Oso’lon and even the Era’tran while the Zep’sha were the reverse. Their necks were almost flat to the ground and they had extremely long tails that almost made them look like walking snakes. Both were comparable to the Era’tran in terms of overall racial strength, but they didn’t have the same psionics that the Oso’lon did. Nor the most elite bits of tech that the two founding races kept for themselves.

“It would take 3, no less, to effectively cull the Era’tran,” Yaquik estimated, “so long as you remained defensive. Possibly more.”

“Many more if they do not wish to gut themselves. They will need the Oso’lon or the J’gar, otherwise victory is not assured.”

“I think you overstate your current situation.”

“I am not being arrogant, but name the race that is willing to destroy themselves to cull us?”

“Hmmn, that is a point I had not considered. If paranoia abounds no one is going to want to dutifully engage anyone else unless it is a massive overkill.”

“The danger is being singled out.”

“I cannot speak for all Hjar’at, and I barely control this system as of now, but if a public allegiance with the Era’tran will help discourage attacks against the Era’tran you will have it…so long that it is a defensive pact. We cannot engage in an offensive war or it will tear the empire apart.”

“I have been authorized to speak for the Era’tran and they will honor any agreement I make. You have your defensive pact. When to announce it is the question.”

“Not yet. Inform your leaders so they can prepare, and if you can spare a sizeable fleet to come here and observe do so. When it arrives the declaration can be made. You will defend against outside influence while the Hjar’at take care of an internal matter themselves.”

“And if Hjar’at ships arrive to attack you?”

“Your default protocol will be to observe, though situations may alter if the corruption runs too deep.”

“We will stand beside you regardless and let you dictate the protocol. The fleet will only engage other Hjar’at when you give them release to do so, but you will not micromanage them.”

“Well bargained, though I think we gain more from it than you.”

“Time will tell. Recheck the status of your clear corridor and we will continue this conversation once I reach my ship.”

“Wait until the Zen’zat arrive before you leave the surface.”

Mak’to’ran nodded then both leaders broke the comm connection and got back to the business at hand…what had quickly escalated from defiance into secession. But a secession of the loyal V’kit’no’sat from the traitors, and no one knew just how many that would be here or anywhere else.

9

September 8, 3604

Yat’ri System (Hjar’at Regional Capitol)

Hattoman

Suspicions of possible tampering aside, Mak’to’ran was still using the Urrtren heavily to communicate with the Era’tran and to monitor events empire-wide. The news of what was happening with the Hjar’at was just beginning to come back with mass responses from the local region. He was particularly interested in seeing what the other Hjar’at thought of ongoing events, but there wasn’t much being said by them. What little of it was merely a recounting of events while other races were the ones weighing in with a wide range of interpretations, most of which involved Mak’to’ran to some extent.

His refusal to return to Itaru was now becoming widespread news boosted by the situation with the Hjar’at and many V’kit’no’sat were calling for his head, but his reported association with Yaquik was causing many to take a closer look at what was going on…which meant nothing because they had no facts to work with, but still they were trying to scrape up what they could and determine a reason behind his defiance other than sheer madness.

A few floated the idea that he had even been involved in the treason of Terraxis, absurd as that was, and that sentiment did not seem to be gaining any ground. Most of what he was searching through were news reports, but there was also a growing Declarative trail that consisted of discussion points bantered back and forth across the empire. It covered an unlimited number of subjects and was used to facilitate brainstorming and cooperation between those separated by thousands of lightyears.

Mak’to’ran was now the top item of recent interest, and wouldn’t be replaced by the Hjar’at until the information ‘wave’ flowed out and back across the entire empire. It was far faster than physical travel, but given the size of the galaxy one couldn’t hold an active discussion with another so far away and this was the most efficient system ever devised…though it still left much to be desired due to the time lag, though in Mak’to’ran’s case that was an advantage in him staying ahead of the pursuit that he expected to show up at Yat’ri any day now.

But what wasn’t showing up on the Declaratives or the news feeds was the information Hamob passed along to him concerning the second assault on Terraxis. It was now underway and the V’kit’no’sat had secured a foothold on the surface of Terrax…but the cost of doing so had seen so much damage done to their Mach’nel that it had to retreat from the system under heavy escort.

Mak’to’ran couldn’t believe what he was reading, but even as aghast as he was at the information his Sav-enhanced mind realized that the information was not being released to the empire yet. Battle updates should have been sent out as soon as the first courier ship got within range of the Urrtren, and given how important the subject matter was the entire empire would have been talking about it. Mak’to’ran knew they couldn’t keep information like that suppressed forever, but the fact that they were even trying was another telling sign of how corrupt Itaru and their latchkeys had become.

Hamob hadn’t sent him much information, only a few tactical snapshots had been included so he’d know the strength that the Humans had assembled. The V’kit’no’sat had sent a fleet 20 times as large as he’d had plus two Mach’nels…the latter of which was unheard of. When their scout ships had arrived in Star Force territory they’d been attacked before even reaching their target system, but after a number of harassment attacks from a large Star Force fleet enroute, the V’kit’no’sat armada arrived safely in Terraxis along a different jumpline only to find the Humans had brought in reinforcements of their own.

Mak’to’ran studied the numbers and ship designs carefully, for both were different than before. Most of the ship hulls were not cubical, but rather thick discs along with other designs. From memory he recalled that the disc-shapes were from a non-Human faction of Star Force that had not been present in Terraxis the first time, nor had the others. Estimates to Star Force’s strength appeared to have been low, for while the V’kit’no’sat had sent 20 times as many ships, Star Force had brought in reinforcements equal to 80 times as many.

And it wasn’t just their standard attack ships. There were many of their larger ones as well, possibly pulled in from more of their hidden depots in far orbit. Mak’to’ran wished he had a full battle report to work through, but the near loss of another Mach’nel was precisely the reason why he should have been the one commanding the second attack. The presence of two Mach’nels should have been sufficient to overcome any non-V’kit’no’sat adversary, and even while Neifil had not been destroyed Mak’to’ran could guess at the kind of damage it had taken to warrant withdrawal.

The Humans were probably targeting it in the aftermath and unwilling to let it back off from combat and be used as a command post while undergoing field repairs. If they’d made it their primary target it would have to have been removed from the system…and the number of ships necessary to guard it during the retreat would have weakened Neo’sor’s fleet by an appreciable number.

How in the galaxy had the Kret’net botched this so badly? He had a reputation for cautiousness and Mak’to’ran’s full field notes. The Humans had gathered far more forces than expected, but the might of a Mach’nel would counter that if used properly. How one could fail with two was unthinkable…unless they had directly assaulted the planetary defense station.

If they had done that then Neo’sor deserved to be executed, but in combing through the information he found the location of the foothold on Terrax’s surface identified as being on another continent altogether. That meant either an attack on the defense station had failed and they had to mount a second attack later, or more likely the Kret’net had assaulted a region of the planet outside the targeting range of the Tar’vem’jic…but to suffer that much damage to a Mach’nel was too high of a cost, not to mention the ship losses tallied but not specified in the data.

He had loss numbers but no damage assessments, and it seemed that nearly a fifth of the V’kit’no’sat fleet had been spent to get that single penetration onto the surface. It was apparently secure with limited resupply from orbit, but while the defenders had lost a great deal more ships they were far from beaten. Their navy was still massive and getting additional reinforcements from their empire in what Mak’to’ran knew would be a whittling down effort. They’d attack the V’kit’no’sat in the case of a stalemate in order to destroy a few ships here and there while their own were being replaced, or defend heavily in order to do the same thing.

And Neo’sor would have to sacrifice ships in order to breach the other planets’ defense shields now that he had lost one Mach’nel. Combined the two Tar’vem’jics should have been able to punch through on their own given enough time, or if not a quick follow up by the fleet would have added the finishing touch. Now, if the other planetary defense shields were nearly as strong as Terrax’s, he’d have to bring his fleet into range of their planetary guns to poke a hole in each one, otherwise the Humans would have a stronghold to defend from while their much closer empire continued to pour in reinforcements.

And with every planetary assault the V’kit’no’sat ship count would drop hard, even with rotating tactics, because the Star Force fleet would be there to aid the planetary defenses. Neo’sor had gotten the primary target breached and troops on the ground, but it was far too high a cost. Mak’to’ran would have found another way and he badly wanted to know why Neo’sor had done this, but in truth he could only guess at what he did do without a full battle record to watch.

Mak’to’ran had been sabotaged by either the J’gar or the Oso’lon, and if that had not happened the first assault would have gone down differently. Neither of those races was present in the second wave, and unless something totally crazy had occurred…such as an altered Hadarak showing up…then Neo’sor was to blame for this and he could understand why Itaru didn’t want the word spread. Two Mach’nels plus an assault of this magnitude and all the V’kit’no’sat gained was a surface penetration at the cost of one of the Mach’nels and a fifth of their ships? What sort of incompetence was this?

This was not like Neo’sor at all, and he would not have caved to Itaru if they demanded a full assault on the defense station. If that was the case he would have relinquished the position to a Hjar’at or another more acclimated to such painful exchanges. Neo’sor was a thinker and a mover. How this had occurred completely baffled Mak’to’ran.

How heavy the damage to Neifil was he did have some data on, for Hamob had sent a repair analysis report attached to his notes that he found later. While internal systems could be rebuilt at a fast rate the Yeg’gor armor could not, and the amount it had lost would require something in the rage of 40 years to replace. The Mach’nel would be combat capable long before that, but not able to weather such grinding assaults as long as it should.

But this also weakened the Era’tran considerably. While a Mach’nel could only be in one place at one time and a larger fleet had many more battle applications, the Mach’nels were a way to cancel even major assaults on a planet if you could get them there in time. More than that, they could turn a weaker fleet into a victorious one simply by their inclusion and ability to soak up so much damage, which was especially vital when you were the one assaulting planetary defenses…not to mention the Tar’vem’jic they carried.

Why couldn’t the damage have been done to the Les’i’kron Mach’nel? And how had the damage been done? Was the Era’tran commander following Neo’sor’s orders or had he tried to salvage a bad situation?

There were so many questions that Mak’to’ran could not answer that it increased his ire to fuming levels as he forced himself to delay long enough to calm down before he shared the news with Yaquik. Fortunately the Hjar’at had been involved in battle at the time he sought him out, so there was an even longer cooling down period before the holo transmission came through, but still the Hjar’at could see in Mak’to’ran’s face that something was angering him.

“Have you been attacked?” Yaquik guessed.

“Not here. I have received a partial report from Terraxis, but it is not available on the Urrtren yet. There is no news of Terraxis at all. I got this directly from Hamob.”

“What are they concealing?”

“We nearly lost a Mach’nel and paid a heavy price to gain a foothold on Terrax.”

Yaquik’s face screwed up with a mixture of horror and anger. “Two Mach’nel were sent.”

“Yes, and I do not know what transpired, but the Humans have brought in a much larger fleet to defend their capitol and I sense incompetence on our part. Itaru is probably trying to cover it up, but such a disgrace of this magnitude will not be kept silent for long. Our Mach’nel was forced to retreat, and when it returns to Era’tran territory word will begin to spread whether Itaru wishes it or not.”

“The Era’tran Mach’nel was the one damaged?”

“Heavily damaged. It had to have an escort fleet take it out.”

“Did they use the Hadarak?”

“My limited information says no.”

“What is becoming of us? It feels like the V’kit’no’sat empire I was born into is no longer in existence.”

“Unfortunately you are correct. My mission is to collect the scraps and reforge a new empire, but even I did not expect us to be so incompetent.”

“Who is their commander?”

“Neo’sor, a Kret’net.”

“Are you familiar with him?”

“Yes.”

“I am not. Is this behavior typical?”

“Quite the contrary. He would rather siege a world than hammer it in such a manner.”

“Then this corruption is everywhere and poisoning us from within. If someone knew of this long ago, I could see their reasoning in growing an exterior force to conquer us. We are weaker than we realize.”

“I cannot say for sure what occurred without a full battle report, but I fear you may be corr…” Mak’to’ran broke off as he picked up an alert.

“What is it?”

“Ships jumping into the system en mass.”

“Itaru’s leash?”

“I have been waiting for it. I have the engines to run, all I need is a small head start.”

“You’ll have it. I am not near a sensor display. Who did they send?”

“I’m reading Hjar’at vessels arriving…”

“And?” Yaquik pressed as Mak’to’ran cut off again.

“And one of your Mach’nel.”

The Hjar’at fell silent for a long moment, with both V’kit’no’sat knowing what this might mean.

“Death before dishonor,” he said gravely. “You have to survive, so run when needed, but if these traitors are here to force a capitulation they are going to be disappointed. I must get to a command deck.”

Yaquik didn’t wait for a reply and his hologram disappeared from Mak’to’ran’s view as he watched more Hjar’at warships arrive on the jumpline behind the giant crescent moon-shaped blade of a ship.

The arriving Hjar’at fleet was not nearly as large as that which defended the regional capitol, but the presence of one of their four Mach’nels put a chill through every warship in the system rather than being a reassuring presence. It didn’t waste any time, making a microjump out to Hattoman with its small escort fleet trailing in its wake. As soon as it arrived in high planetary orbit Mak’to’ran got a holo-link request from Yaquik and soon both his and another Hjar’at’s image appeared before the Era’tran.

“So you are the one who defies Itaru,” the Mach’nel commander noted.

“I am Mak’to’ran.”

“I am Sar’keth, and you need not fear me or Jor’wek. If you’re refusing to report that’s your business. I am here for Yaquik.”

“The Era’tran stand with him and any other loyal V’kit’no’sat. If you assault him here there will be repercussions later.”

“This is a Hjar’at matter, Era’tran, but your loyalty is commendable. I am not here to kill him. I am here to make sure he is not killed.”

“Sar’keth is a friend,” Yaquik said evenly, though Mak’to’ran could detect just a hint of pride in his stance.

“There are those rallying to oppose the necessary security measures Yaquik has taken. I am here to submit myself for loyalty testing, then once Jor’wek is cleansed of any potential traitors we will stand guard over this system.”

“I am needless to say, relieved,” Mak’to’ran admitted.

“It seems some of the old empire still remains,” Yaquik added.

“What is this newfound allegiance to the Era’tran?”

“It seems they have been aware of this widespread treason for some time and have taken measures within their own race to counter it, creating a base of strength they are now expanding out through Mak’to’ran. He has helped draw out the traitors here and open my eyes to the threat. I do not like taking these measures, but we cannot exist guarding against our brothers every moment we breathe.”

“I am in agreement, else I and the others would not have come,” Sar’keth said, referencing the other ships with him. “I imagine more are thinking along the same lines, but I knew I had to get here first to discourage any reckless combat. They will not take Jor’wek’s presence lightly.”

“I alone am doing the loyalty checks. I will not trust another, but I cannot move through many quickly. If you trust your second come down immediately.”

“I cannot claim trust in any of my crew. Not enough to risk leaving the Mach’nel. I need you to come aboard and verify as many as you can, if you are insisting that you be the only one to conduct checks.”

“It is a breach of honor that I alone will bear.”

“Many agree it must be done.”

“Never the less, we will take our time and do this properly. A weaker mind would cause more damage breaking through.”

“I think my strength is sufficient if you wish me to vet my own crew.”

“Do not. We must not break the bonds that bind us. Those bonds are clouded in uncertainty now and I will take the burden of cleansing them on myself. If there is to be resentment, let it be towards me alone.”

“Inefficient.”

“But necessary to preserve our honor.”

“Then let us hope we have sufficient time for you to do what the rest of us cannot.”

“I believe you have just given us more time, Sar’keth.”

“That was my intent, but I am still not fully aware of what has been transpiring here. Especially concerning the Era’tran. Words are being twisted everywhere, even amongst Hjar’at. I came here trusting you, but now I need to know the truth of the enemy we face.”

“I will join you shortly. Once your verification is confirmed, you will have the answers you seek.”

Sar’keth looked towards Mak’to’ran. “Has he been confirmed?”

“As you said, this is an internal Hjar’at matter. We must purge this heresy from our race. How they handle theirs is their business.”

“But you trust him?”

“He has deemed this important enough to defy Itaru. Yes, I trust him.”

“Despite his failure at Terraxis?”

“Because of it.”

Sar’keth twitched his neck in an annoyed fashion. “Burned by treason already, thus cleansed?”

“Something like that,” Mak’to’ran answered.

“Be quick with this verification,” Sar’keth urged. “Then I want to know everything you two are up to…and how I can further assist you.”

10

September 23, 3604

Yat’ri System (Hjar’at Regional Capitol)

Hattoman

The release of the information regarding the Star Force Preserve and the advanced races represented there was finally making its way through the Urrtren and back to Mak’to’ran. The news was not taken well and already there were questions being asked of Itaru and their strict borders, insinuating that they might have been behind keeping these new races a secret and breaking out another round of suspicion as to which V’kit’no’sat races were colluding with either the Oso’lon or the J’gar…though the idea that both might be responsible for Terraxis was being floated more heavily, for why would one agree to such confinement of V’kit’no’sat territory if they were not complicit?

Sar’keth had received Mak’to’ran’s update just prior to his leaving to come here, and he’d said that with many other Hjar’at beginning to question the state of the empire that this new information about potential external threats had them both angry and worried. With such internal divisions that Yaquik was bringing to light their own strength was unable to be determined, lending to the fear of being caught at a disadvantage, especially with controllable Hadarak in play, but the anger lay in the fact that there were worthy opponents out on the rim that they had been denied knowledge of.

Even if they were deemed unimportant or too far away to be concerned with, every formidable race needed to be watched. The Hjar’at were more adamant about this than most, for they were always itching for an excuse to engage in combat. They were not overly belligerent, and had decent relations with non-V’kit’no’sat races when they behaved themselves, but if one stepped out of line the Hjar’at would be in their face at a moment’s notice, and rightly so. The dominant were not deserving of that title if they couldn’t prove it time and again as necessary, but by hiding potential opponents from view one did not know who was now dominant. It was unlikely that these other races were a match for the V’kit’no’sat, but whoever was behind Terraxis clearly saw some weakness, else what was the point?

In light of the Era’tran already having defied Itaru’s orders regarding borders, Yaquik asked that they also quietly send out scouts into the regions just beyond the current V’kit’no’sat borders in order to start confirming the powerbases out there. Assumptions could be a dangerous thing, and if even the close border was not being patrolled they could have enemies literally on top of their frontier worlds without even realizing it. Blindness could not be tolerated, but right now the Hjar’at were drawing so much attention to themselves they didn’t want the issue of a border violation on top of everything else going on.

So far Itaru hadn’t commented on Yaquik’s purge, but then again lag times being what they were that didn’t surprise Mak’to’ran. The Hjar’at capitol had also not responded yet, but many closer Hjar’at systems were making inquiries and the presence of a Mach’nel in the system was drawing extra attention from more than just the Hjar’at.

Three days ago an Uvbor task force consisting of 2 Dak’bri and 4 Ti’mat arrived to scout the system, making contact but keeping their distance as they requested to know what was going on. The Uvbor were a mid-level V’kit’no’sat race that blurred the lines between biped and quadruped. Their rear legs were the larger, but they often leaned forward enough to move around on all fours. Their psionic package was small, with the standard Pefbar/Lachka combo that all V’kit’no’sat had being augmented with Rensiek, Hanme, and Lovo’nek, the latter two of which provided oxygen backup storage nodules and the ability to breathe through their skin, both in air and water.

Combined with the massive heat generation capability of Rensiek, the Uvbor were well suited to icy, watery worlds. They weren’t aquatic in form, but they could move around in water well enough for groundpounders. The aquatics didn’t accept them as one of their own, but neither were they purely land dwelling. They were an oddity within the V’kit’no’sat that mostly kept to themselves and made a habit out of colonizing frozen worlds that others did not want. With their Rensiek they could walk around in a blizzard without armor and not be bothered by it, while an Era’tran would have considerable trouble surviving in the worst weather.

Mak’to’ran’s large form provided some insulation against the cold, but he couldn’t go where the Uvbor could so comfortably, and definitely not underwater without assistance. He could hold his breath fairly well, but he’d always have to remain near the surface while the Uvbor did not have that limitation so long as they didn’t over-exert themselves. Their Lovo’nek was not as effective as those the aquatics had because the Uvbor physiology was that of a land dweller, making it more of a useful add-on rather than an everyday necessity.

Most Uvbor colonies were on land with very few being submerged, but they built freely and adapted to the geography rather than making it fit their needs. They were adaptive and overly cautious, with little public ambition within the V’kit’no’sat. They did their duty against the Hadarak and other threats, interacted via trade with the other races, but for the most part kept to themselves unless situations warranted their involvement.

Which apparently now they had.

Both Mak’to’ran and Yaquik had talked with them via holo, explaining the situation and finding out that the Uvbor were being heavily recruited by many different races, including the aquatics, in preparation for whoever the real traitors were to make their move and start the fight that most everyone expected was coming in one form or another. The news that the Hjar’at were fighting themselves hadn’t made any sense, so they’d sent a task force here to investigate.

They vehemently denounced the mental invasions, but once they were convinced that this wasn’t going to spread beyond the Hjar’at they seemed to reluctantly accept it as an internal matter. The thought of it becoming a trend in other races or even with Itaru beginning its own loyalty checks was foremost on their mind, but Mak’to’ran assured them that the Era’tran would not submit to any such checks and the fact that only Yaquik was performing them for the Hjar’at seemed to sway them. They recognized the extreme measures the Hjar’at were going to in order to eliminate the traitors from their midst, and given the somewhat reckless reputation they had it seemed to fit in the overall order of things.

That didn’t mean the Uvbor were happy about it, but they eventually labeled it as another Hjar’at excess, warning against the dangers of it, but eventually accepted it in so far that they were not interested in getting themselves involved to stop it, but there were questions already floating around about what the Oso’lon would do.

Mak’to’ran hadn’t heard anything from them yet, and neither had Yaquik, but that changed in a moment when sensors picked up an incoming fleet of Oso’lon ships at the star…quickly followed by a message to Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha demanding his surrender.

“Your pursuit has finally manifested,” Yaquik said via holo as the Oso’lon fleet numbering some 13 vessels, all Kafcha similar in capability to Mak’to’ran’s own, began to move into position for a microjump out to the planet. “I wonder if they actually intend to take you alive or have a fortuitous destruction of your ship.”

“It’s time for me to leave,” Mak’to’ran said before Yaquik could offer assistance. “My mission isn’t to actually start a fight.”

“A pity. Those 13 Oso’lon vessels are no match for us.”

“You have greater concerns to deal with. Better if interest in me is directed elsewhere.”

“Agreed, but it’s still a pity.”

“We don’t know if the Oso’lon are the traitors or not, and I don’t want to get in a fight with loyal V’kit’no’sat carrying out Itaru’s edicts.”

“You need to open more eyes first.”

“Indeed. Every life lost is a defeat, and the longer I can draw this out the more we can save.”

“But not all?”

“You know as well as I do that whoever is behind Terraxis is not a small faction. A fight is coming. This is about securing as many loyalists as we can, then digging in and surviving.”

“You dig in. Just give me a legitimate target and let me fight these traitors directly.”

“You may find out before me.”

“Somehow I doubt that, but get those courier ships established and I’ll share whatever I learn with your kin. I trust they know how to find you?”

“We’re using the Urrten as much as possible, but if we have to there are other means of communication set up and I check back in with Hamob regularly.”

“Thank him for me. The Hjar’at owe you a debt for exposing this treachery within us.”

“Purging it is all we ask in return. We have no wish to face you in combat.”

“Likewise. The prudence of the Era’tran will be remembered.”

“Fortune to the bold.”

“And the cagey,” Yaquik added as Mak’to’ran broke communications. A moment later his Kafcha accelerated through planetary orbit with haste, getting to a jumpline to another planet in the system without resistance from any Hjar’at vessel…not that they could have intercepted him if they tried, but the lack of delay was appreciated as the Era’tran warship winked out of view as it accelerated laterally across the star’s approach angle that the Oso’lon were coming on.

Mak’to’ran coasted between planets a random distance then used his ship’s massive gravity drives to slow them mid-jump as they likewise pulled heavily on the star and curved them into an unpredictable jumpline towards system’s center that the Oso’lon could not intercept. The longnecks did eventually reverse course, but with the sensor lag times and the speeds the Era’tran ship was capable of they were so far out of position that they had no chance of getting within realtime comm range, let alone weapons range, of Mak’to’ran’s ship as it arrived in stellar orbit.

From there he transitioned around the star at breakneck speed to the jumpline for the Kajjmat System, an uninhabited mass of gas giants that had been mined to depletion long ago. He picked up the trailing Oso’lon ships on the Hjar’at Urrtren tracking grid just before getting to the jumppoint as the signals finally caught up. They were chasing him as expected, but they weren’t going to catch him here and there was nothing ahead of him at Kajjmat for them to signal unless they’d anticipated him leaving through that system.

That was unlikely given how many navigation options there were coming out of Yat’ri, some 274 given the engine power he had available. He’d considered taking one of the longest ones that the Oso’lon probably couldn’t follow on, but he didn’t want to tip his speed advantage just yet and accordingly had his Kafcha jump out of the system more slowly than it had to during the deep push phase in near the star. When they had progressed up to enough speed that the sensor grid couldn’t catch up to them he had his ship push harder and get more speed than the Oso’lon navigators would predict.

Hopefully when he reached Kajjmat he’d have enough of a head start that he could make a second jump before they arrived and keep gaining ground from system to system, though he knew he couldn’t lose them in Kajjmat, for while it was uninhabited it was still a relay for the Urrtren, meaning it had navigational recorders for everything coming in and out from the star.

But there were many nearby systems that didn’t, and if he could get enough of a lead he could dart off through one when the Oso’lon were still in coast phase and lose their pursuit entirely…then it would be a matter of keeping ahead of any ambushes they’d have to lay, for if he could just keep running they’d never catch him. They’d have to corner him and force a fight, and to do that they’d need not just a lot more ships and good captains, but a lot of luck, for any naval expert understood just how vast space was and how hard it was to pin down a ship if you didn’t have superior speed.

Which they didn’t. At least not with these pursuing ships. That might change, but even if Itaru managed to send a speed-enhanced task force themselves that didn’t necessary mean they’d catch Mak’to’ran. There were a lot of other navigation tricks that he could play, and after sharpening his tactical teeth against Hadarak Recursevs he was ready to play hard if necessary, though right now his primary nemesis was going to be fuel. It wasn’t an issue yet, but he would have to resupply eventually and if Itaru started blockading nearby Era’tran worlds that could get tricky…which was why Hamob had arranged refueling depots in uninhabited systems, some of which should already be in place.

He wasn’t going to use them if he didn’t have to, but the Era’tran had planned out Mak’to’ran’s mission thoroughly before sending him on his provocative tour of the empire. He was meant to draw out the traitors, and if they didn’t already want his blood they soon would, which would help further expose them throughout the empire, but especially on Itaru. Not everyone in the empire’s capitol was a traitor, for the Era’tran had many people there. The traitors had to label Mak’to’ran as disloyal and make it stick, otherwise they wouldn’t get the support they wanted. With everyone already on edge about Terraxis some would prefer to wait and see rather than strike, and he hoped that their focus on him would provide a needed distraction for Yaquik and others that Hamob probably hadn’t even told him about to continue the work they were doing.

If a civil war broke out now there was no way to stop it. The Era’tran would hold their own as long as they could, but the prospect of taking on 192 other races or some lesser combination thereof was suicide and everyone knew it, which was why alliances were being sought out. You couldn’t survive, let alone win without support, and if the Era’tran were to reforge the empire they were going to have to craft an alliance far larger than their opposition…otherwise the two or more sides would bleed each other dry.

Maybe that was the plan, then have Star Force and its allies move in. Maybe they were never intended to be the first wave and the Hadarak were intended to fight the other Hadarak after the fact so that the coreward border wouldn’t completely fall apart?

It was an interesting angle that he hadn’t considered before, but at this point it was irrelevant unless you conceded the traitors winning. He wasn’t going to do that, nor live to see it. He and the Era’tran had decided to remain loyal V’kit’no’sat or go down fighting. One way or another this poisoned empire was going to end, and if the traitors did end up winning he didn’t want to be around to see it anyway.

His fight was here and now before the civil war started, and he knew he could do more by following Hamob’s devious mission plans than by summoning a fleet and taking it into battle. Allegiance had once bound the V’kit’no’sat together, and that must be the primary weapon the Era’tran wielded now.

And symbolically Mak’to’ran was being forged into that weapon. It wasn’t his usual method of attack, but he was learning quick enough and now that they were out of the Yat’ri System and into their coast phase it was time to check what the next destination Hamob had left for him was.

After retreating to his private chambers he opened the sealed orders and activated the next sequential data entry. It burned to life in holo form and Mak’to’ran recognized the system immediately. It had 197 planets, with more than half of them being prime habitable. The acquisition of that system had been a coup long ago for the Ari’tat, who had outmaneuvered everyone else on Itaru in order to claim sole ownership. It was so valuable that the tiny Ari’tat had actually relocated their capitol there along with more than 18 trillion of their population.

They’d had to concede much to get it, losing over 200 other territorial possession in a series of trades, but they’d built up Zorrtai so much that it stood now as visible reminder of how the smallest V’kit’no’sat race had managed to best all the others and was still laughing at the irony of it.

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1

April 9, 3622

Nezad System (V’kit’no’sat territory)

Stellar Orbit

Chaos was now the functioning state of the V’kit’no’sat empire. Races were split apart from one another and even within, with hundreds of factions forming and moving to secure resources in preparation for the ultimate betrayal to come. Few were left that were considered to be trustworthy, and individual planets…even individual cities were breaking apart and hunkering down. No one seemed to be interested in starting the civil war with direct fighting, but there were already conflicts occurring with stun weapons where one side would oust another from a position of power, whether it be a factory, defense station, ship, or even planet.

Most were doing so in the name of self-defense, but tensions were running high as more assassinations were cropping up throughout multiple races almost as if they wanted insanity to follow, though the experienced and savvy galaxy-spanning empire was still refraining from doing that. They knew what a full civil war would result in, but there was now no hope in discovering who the traitor was except in waiting for them to strike.

But no one would, not directly, so smaller proxy wars were taking place as the V’kit’no’sat map, while looking every bit as firm and dominant to outsiders as it had been for millennia, was being redrawn drastically from within though no one else knew it.

What chance there was of identifying the traitor, or traitors, and having the rest of the empire stomp them flat was now considered to be naught given the capture of the planetary defense station on Terrax and the subsequent investigation that provided more problems than answers. The weapons were in fact unlocked, which Mak’to’ran’s fleet had discovered the hard way, but who had unlocked them had not been logged…or more likely erased after the fact, but what really made everyone go nuts was the fact that the Zen’zat had been rekeyed for FULL ACCESS to the defense station’s database.

Only two races had full access, and that was the Oso’lon and the J’gar, meaning whoever had unlocked the weapons had also unlocked records and knowledge that the other V’kit’no’sat races did not have full access too, and that was blamed in part for the failure to conquer the bastardized Star Force as quickly as had been expected. The planet and system were now back in V’kit’no’sat hands, but the rest of their empire was proving every bit as hard to conquer and they were having to suffer egregious losses in order to make progress.

That infuriated Mak’to’ran even more, with him continually cursing Itaru and their stupidity. Had he been reassigned to the invasion he would not have treated the Humans so lightly. They were very dangerous opponents even with a slight technological disadvantage, but time and again the arrogance that was poisoning the V’kit’no’sat had the empire sending more than enough troops and ships to get the job done, but was losing many of them in the process due to sheer sloppiness.

The troops were not fighting poorly, but they were being deployed onto missions that were sloppily selected. Mak’to’ran blamed the leadership, for those actually doing the fighting were behaving as true V’kit’no’sat should and taking the fight hard against the enemy in order to break their resolve even if it cost them their lives…but they were being wasted, for this Star Force was not going to break. They were going to have to be conquered, but in order to do it properly they would have to be evaluated at a strength equal to one of the lesser races in the V’kit’no’sat and the arrogant would never accept that the heresy could have gone that far.

Thus those commanders being sent were either approaching the battles cautiously and chipping away where they could without suffering heavy losses, or hammering their targets and achieving victory at great cost.

To make matters worse the Oso’lon and J’gar were forbidden from participating, taking out the two strongest races from the invasion force, but there was no foolishness in that, for one of them had to be the traitor and after several years and the inability of the other races to hack their way in past the coding the Humans had input to sabotage the database, a single ship from both the Oso’lon and J’gar were dispatched to Terrax with their specialists and under observation they both attempted to find the answers the others couldn’t…all the while watching each other closely so that no evidence could be covered up.

All those in Terraxis behaved aboveboard, but answers they could not find even with the override codes the two primary races brought with them. Someone had unlocked access for the Zen’zat and covered their tracks so well there was nothing left to find, and the physical damage done to specific components had to be replaced before full access to the defense station’s database and systems could be restored.

What was lost in those components was unknown, but the many redundancies that no Zen’zat mind could access were also cleaned…save for the events of the planet’s fall to the Rit’ko’sor. The one bit of evidence they did find was that the J’gar had locked down the weaponry, absolving them of the negligent charge at least, but either they or the Oso’lon had at some later point gone back and unlocked not just it but the entire closely guarded trove of V’kit’no’sat secrets held in all planetary defense stations because some of the information was too sensitive to transmit over the Urrtren.

And the fact that neither the Oso’lon nor J’gar tech specialists could discover the treachery of the other led to the theory that perhaps both were colluding against the rest of the races.

That thought was beyond scary, but Mak’to’ran suspected there was something much more sinister happening here. If both the Oso’lon and J’gar wanted to take over the empire there was little they had to do, for they already controlled it. An invasion from the outside made no sense…which left the other V’kit’no’sat races with no answers and plenty of justified paranoia, for the first attempt made to kill the bastardized Hadarak had ended in total failure. Not only were the Hadarak more powerful than expected, there were also other unidentified races there to help Star Force defend them.

The assault force had been forced to retreat, but had lost nearly half its ships in the first attempt. Mak’to’ran hoped a second would not be tried until they could learn more, but if the arrogant still held sway over Itaru then no matter how many factions formed they would still be able to gather fleets from the pieces of the races that they maintained control over. Unfortunately that meant they’d probably not come in with the overwhelming firepower that the empire could easily summon and that Mak’to’ran believed was necessary. Not now with so many hoarding ships to defensive duties while waiting for the unidentified traitors to finally strike in the open.

The Hadarak boarder had been diminished down to a bare minimum to hold the lines, which was dangerous considering the beasts were not stupid and regularly prodded and poked the defenses to seek out weakness, and once they found it they’d push…and if that happened now they didn’t have enough strength there to keep them from successfully invading another system or two.

And where had those ships gone? Some of them were right here in front of Mak’to’ran as his Kafcha dove into Nezad and passed by the defense fleet of Lir’nen as they blockaded the system that held a single world they shared with the larger Bav’tor. Both races were minor members of the V’kit’no’sat and relatively intact with regards to the splintering going on in others, but the two were also being used as proxies in the limited war that was already three years old between the two.

When Mak’to’ran entered the system his ship ran into some 3 dozen Lir’nen ships, but before they could even respond he redirected it away from them at a speed they couldn’t match, breaking the first part of the blockade and heading in a roundabout route to the planet of Kabbter, but he wasn’t silent while doing so.

“Attention all loyal V’kit’no’sat within the Nezad System. I am Mak’to’ran, emissary of the sane and just, enemy of the foolish and treacherous. I led the first assault on Terraxis and suffered from the heresy first hand, but rather than return to counter a formidable foe I was recalled to Itaru to be used as an excuse for the misdeeds of the treasonous amongst us. I do not know their identity, but I have seen many who support a poison that has seeped into the very fabric of our empire. A poison that values appearance over substance, arrogance over confidence, and ego over superiority. Whether or not the two are linked I cannot say, but both are a threat that is even now tearing us apart from the inside out.”

“We need not even be conquered by the forces assembling beyond our border, for we are rife with distrust and treachery within. Assassinations abound, but even more disturbing are the Stun Wars that have broken out. While you may not be killing one another, you are still wasting resources and weakening the bonds of brotherhood between us. I care not for what disagreements the Lir’nen and Bav’tor have had. The V’kit’no’sat are in peril and you foolishly fight the wrong opponent.”

“If I showed you who the traitors were then you would rally to oppose them, which is good reason for them to have covered their tracks so well. Even now those we cannot trust are backing you. The Oso’lon for the Lir’nen and the J’gar for the Bav’tor. Do not deny it, for we have tracked your supply convoys. Both of their loyalties are in question, yet you accept aid from them in order to turn against your brothers?”

“No. This insanity must stop. And if you will not stop it yourselves, then I will claim domain over this system. You have 2 hours to stand down all combat and report yourselves to me for negotiations. Failure to do so will result in my confiscation of this system from both parties. Either way this pointless combat ends. Choose wisely. I await your response…or lack thereof.”

The message was transmitted as they traveled, then Mak’to’ran parked his Kafcha in extreme high orbit over Kabbter as a Lir’nen fleet sat between him and the planet with a much smaller Bav’tor task force huddled over a tiny section of planetary orbit and well within range of the planetary defense weaponry of the largest city on the planet that the biped/quadrupeds still held. The ships from both sides were holding off from combat, though there was some battle damage visible on several vessels but no debris fields and the updates Mak’to’ran was pulling from the local Urrtren showed him the stalemate that had resulted after the forcible seizure of several Bav’tor cargo ships.

The fight had been brief and they’d been overwhelmed, then the ships had been boarded and captured before being taken out of the system to another location. Since then nothing had entered or left without Lir’nen approval while the Stun War was being carried out across multiple battlefields on the tropical planet below with the Bav’tor being at a slight advantage territory wise, though several cities were showing ruined areas that had been evacuated before being trashed.

It was a waste of infrastructure even if lives hadn’t been lost, though there appeared to be a great number of prisoners on both sides being held in containment pens. Those he’d have to deal with sooner rather than later.

The responses from the two sides didn’t take long to come in and Mak’to’ran negotiated with them in turn, but neither was bowing to his demands. Other contacts followed from various regions on the planet where he found more leeway, but they were in a precarious position. They couldn’t stand down their defenses unless the opposition did, else they’d be overrun, and right now the battles taking place were being advertised as a defensive purge to remove the other race from the planet in order to secure it against a future betrayal of massive proportions.

It was the same reasoning Mak’to’ran had encountered before, and thanks to his experience in recent years he knew how to handle it and pick out those who were legitimately concerned and those who were using the concern to fuel other agendas. In a flurry of communications the Era’tran quickly identified and labeled who was useful and who was an impediment that would get in the way, sizing up the situation and lining out what he was going to do with the planet going forward by the time the two hours were up and his support fleet arrived shortly thereafter.

Two additional Era’tran Kafchas came out of the same jumppoint in the face of the Lir’nen ships, essentially being an even match with the smaller vessels until additional ships followed from five different races.

More followed in Mak’to’ran’s rebel fleet that he’d been collecting over the years crewed by loyalists and almost entirely seized from the arrogant…and he was about to add some more of the latter.

There was a standoff at the jumppoint until the Lir’nen suddenly decided to withdraw and regroup with other vessels at the planet, but two of the ships didn’t make it that far. Both decelerated to a standstill as the others moved around stellar orbit, and soon Mak’to’ran got affirmation signals from both Lir’nen warships.

“Take them,” he said in a pithy statement to the Jam’ju leader within his fleet. The small quadrupeds were about the same size as the Lir’nen and would be able to move through their shipboard hallways where the larger Era’tran and others couldn’t, and their hard exoskeletons were a good counter to the crew’s head-mounted bioshields.

“It will be done,” the Jam’ju’s hologram answered after a delay, then Mak’to’ran belatedly saw boarding craft flying over to the two stalled ships without taking any fire…meaning the Zen’zat onboard the Lir’nen ships had successfully disabled them, but how long they could keep the Lir’nen under wraps was unknown. They needed reinforcements and would soon be getting them…as would those on the other ships in both the Lir’nen and Bav’tor fleets.

Mak’to’ran watched as more and more stood down at various places in the system, with his people sending boarding parties across the system to them or ordering them to come closer as the rebel fleet screened for those vessels against the ones that did not have Zen’zat onboard or those that were holding to their racial loyalty above their higher duty to the empire.

Those ships he would not be taking today, but if they wanted to start a fight they were going to be badly outnumbered.

“To those warships insystem that have not come under my command, I suggest you leave now. I am claiming possession of this system and no interference from you will be tolerated. You will not be fired upon unless you take action against us, but if you do not wish to help reforge the V’kit’no’sat then this is not the place for you. Take the time to wisely consider your next actions as you stay out of our way beyond the third orbit. Come lower than that and you will be deemed a potential threat.”

Not long after the Bav’tor leadership contacted him again, with the Iguanodon all but shaking with rage as its red eyes and yellow scales only amplified the visage of hatred being transmitted via hologram.

“You have no right, Era’tran.”

“Dominance is my right. I am V’kit’no’sat, and I am here to salvage this planet and what little loyalty still remains. I am not here seeking your death, nor am I here to cull. There is treason hidden among our territory, and I am here to secure this piece of it. Those with confirmed loyalties will take the lead. You will step aside or be thrust aside.”

“How did you get the Zen’zat on our ships to betray their oaths?”

“Their oaths are to the V’kit’no’sat, not you.”

“Are the Lir’nen also to be removed?”

“They are.”

“At least your betrayal is balanced. You may have most of our ships, but you will not take the surface without a fight. And if you come down here, we will not hold to stun weapons.”

“I have no intention of killing any of you, Bav’tor, but if you shed our blood that promise is rescinded. You may live to learn from your mistake or die in your stupidity. Regardless this system will be returned to the V’kit’no’sat.”

“You don’t have enough ships to assault the surface, unless the Lir’nen were working with you. If they aren’t, then your rebellious faction will not be able to…” the Bav’tor said, flinching to the side as something off screen occurred. A moment later the mass of yellow scales stood up on its rear legs and ran off, leaving the hologram still transmitting as Mak’to’ran heard the telltale sounds of stun weapons.

The Era’tran’s lips curled in a cruel, yet satisfied expression as he waited and gleaned what information he could from the live feed while simultaneously dealing with other matters. He left it open while he attended to the Lir’nen, then put them on hold as a Zen’zat appeared in view.

“I am Tremar,” the small biped said as he withdrew his helmet to reveal a smooth face topped with stark white hair. “I and other loyal Zen’zat have secured the Bav’tor leadership. We have casualties, but all prisoners taken are alive and unconscious per our duty to the V’kit’no’sat. Assuming this comm is to the rogue forces in orbit, I request you take our prisoners into custody before others can come to their aid.”

Mak’to’ran triggered his image to transmit, for he’d been connected in blank mode during the duration of the overthrow.

“I am Mak’to’ran,” he said, seeing the Zen’zat straighten a bit at the mention of his name. “You have done well, Zen’zat. Once the planetary defenses are secured we will send drop pods with transitional overseers. Until then we cannot risk the loss of life even if the shields are lowered.”

“Understood. We’ll hold here until you are able. Others are making a play for those facilities, but I do not know of their progress. Most of our local comm channels went down a few minutes ago.”

“I will keep this line open. I suggest you secure the transmitter before it can be compromised.”

“We will try, but our numbers are thinned. They did not use stun weapons when we attacked them.”

Mak’to’ran huffed in obvious displeasure. “Your loyalty to the V’kit’no’sat is both commendable and most welcome given the current state of the empire. Your efforts will not be wasted.”

“Never mind us. We will do our duty. Restore the empire, Era’tran. That is something Zen’zat cannot do.”

Mak’to’ran’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the Zen’zat’s slightly disrespectful, but appropriate challenge.

“We intend to.”

2

April 18, 3622

Nezad System (V’kit’no’sat territory)

Kabbter

Having stayed on his ship for the duration, Mak’to’ran oversaw the quick and relatively easy takeover of the planet. Many of the inhabitants were sympathetic to his goals and did not resist while others actively helped, but it was the Zen’zat that were the primary arbiters of the transition. As it turned out they, like many on other planets, were very reluctant to fight each other and the various races in this Stun War, seeing it as a violation of their duty to the V’kit’no’sat. No side had been sanctioned by Itaru so they were left without a clear line of authority…at least until Mak’to’ran had arrived.

He might be a rogue, but he was an Era’tran and his reputation and stated goal of reforging the bonds of unity in the V’kit’no’sat automatically snapped most Zen’zat to his command when he entered a conflicted system, for they were in a no-win scenario and they saw him as leading an honorable path out of it.

Mak’to’ran didn’t disappoint, and rather than put in Era’tran overseers, he had brought both Lir’nen and Bav’tor from other systems that had proved loyal and quickly supplanted them in the leadership positions in both colonies on the planet as well as their own captured warships, returning most to the possession of the planet while keeping a few and manning them with volunteers to join the rebel fleet that would soon have to run or risk being caught by the Itaru hunter fleets.

They still hadn’t been able to catch or pin down Mak’to’ran’s ship, but the others in the rebel fleet were not as fast and could not outrun the hunters. Keeping them useful but safe was tricky, but an experienced naval commander knew ways to get it done and one of those was to keep scouts in the nearest systems to watch the jumplines.

One of them had just arrived, giving him an approximate arrival time of a fleet of 12 Oso’lon-allied vessels, all Kafcha-class. Mak’to’ran had enough ships here to make a fight of it even without the help of those now returned to the planet, but his mission was to reunite the empire, not whittle it down with pointless combat. To that end he immediately dispatched every other ship in the rebel fleet on a jumpline opposite to where the hunters would be incoming, but he stayed behind to continue to coordinate events on the surface until the 12 ships arrived and quickly moved out to the planet to intercept him.

Mak’to’ran did move his ship to an outgoing jumpline to another small planet, barely larger than an asteroid, but it would be enough gravitational pull to redirect off of. Sitting there in orbit he waited for the hunters to come out of their microjump then contacted them directly. Seeing that he was poised to outrun them again they held position and chose to respond to the comm.

“Tell me, Zep’sha. What is the point of chasing if you aren’t going to get any faster ships?” he taunted, with the diplodocus glaring back at him through the hologram.

“You can’t run forever.”

“I have been for nearly 2 decades and you refuse to alter tactics. I don’t anticipate any difficulties going forward.”

“What would you suggest?” the Zep’sha scoffed.

“Switch sides,” he answered pithily.

“Your treason will not be tolerated, let alone augmented. Stand down and return to Itaru as ordered.”

“For what purpose?”

“Because it is commanded.”

“We have true traitors in our midst. How can you be sure your orders do not originate from them?”

The hunter hesitated before speaking, and that told Mak’to’ran a great many things.

“Itaru is more than just one race. The condemnation of your insolence is unanimous.”

“So the Era’tran condemn me as well?”

“They stick to their racial loyalty, as typical.”

“Then it’s not unanimous. Your arrogance is not an excuse for lying. If Itaru is not united, do not claim it to be so!”

“The order issued is valid even if not all Elder representatives agree. You are to return.”

“Are you aware of the assassination attempts made against me?”

“No, nor do I care. Our orders and yours are clear.”

“There are factions that want me dead, and many more that want me silenced. My returning to Itaru only helps my enemies. It does not aid the V’kit’no’sat. I am loyal to the empire, and if Itaru is not then their orders no longer possess authority.”

“You are delusional.”

“And you are blind. The empire is fractured, Itaru has no real control, and we are on the verge of a lethal civil war even if the treason of Terraxis does not come to light. When I am seeking to unify, what message does it send when Itaru tries to silence me?”

“That Itaru is still in control and that no rogue may replace them.”

“Am I responsible for the fracturing?”

“On a large scale, no, but you are encouraging dissidents.”

“Perhaps Itaru should spend less attention on me and more on the state of the empire.”

“Perhaps they would if you heeded their order and returned.”

“Do not throw such weak lies at me. It is insulting. If you are going to lie at least try and make them convincing. Have you no shred of pride left in you?”

“We serve the empire, not our pride.”

“You young fool. Without pride we are nothing. Pride is rooted in truth, and there cannot be dominance without truth. Assertions of superiority are worthless if they cannot be backed up, and the willingness to verify comes from pride. With no pride you are little more than a slave.”

“Pride blinds. We are loyal and do what is required of us.”

“Pride prevents what is ‘required’ from violating the bounds of honor. Following orders cannot be our top priority. Maintaining the integrity of the V’kit’no’sat and our mandate to fight the Hadarak will always come first, and if Itaru stands in the way of that, then it must be ignored.”

“Never. Itaru defines our priorities, not you.”

“This priority was the founding principle of the V’kit’no’sat. Even Itaru does not have the authority to override it.”

“There you are mistaken.”

“Tell me, fool, what is a greater priority than fighting the Hadarak?”

“Maintaining the empire, which includes enforcing Itaru’s orders.”

“The dominant do not maintain, they overcome. They rise above. We are constantly growing and improving, not maintaining. You advocate stagnation.”

“You advocate anarchy.”

“No. I advocate we turn our unified attention back against the Hadarak as we probe to find the heretics within us. Having our fleets here in defensive posture accomplishes nothing and risks much if the border is vulnerable to penetration.”

A side prompt alerted Mak’to’ran to another comm channel opening, but not from the planet. It was coming from another of the hunter ships.

Using his Sav-enhanced mind he opened a textual transmission with them while continuing his vocal conversation with the Zep’sha. The ship in question was Sevn’orr, which was one of the few amphibian races, but unlike the Dan’chey this race didn’t like to live on shorelines. They were equally comfortable dry or fully submerged, giving them a huge advantage as a civilization as well as ties to both the Oso’lon and J’gar. They had sided with the Oso’lon, but these long-necked quadrupeds also had good relations with the aquatics and shared many worlds with them.

So far they hadn’t taken part in any of the fighting, lethal or stun, and theirs was one of the more stable races that was strong, but not particularly fast to act. Their backing Itaru made sense, but the messages being exchanged between the unnamed individual and Mak’to’ran indicated that they were very displeased with the situation and that this individual had been sent to make contact with him by their leaders.

Mak’to’ran knew it could be a trap, but there were ways to protect against such things and as he continued to berate and size up the Zep’sha…who was showing signs of wavering ideologically but was in no way going to disobey orders…he arranged for a rendezvous over a year into the future and far from this system.

After that the banter continued until he grew tired of it and gave the order to make the microjump. The hunters immediately backtracked to the star and tried to intercept his ship there, and while they did get there first they couldn’t get close enough to fire any disabling weaponry. Mak’to’ran slipped through their grasp again as he accelerated on an interstellar jump so fast they had no hope of catching up and seeing where he would go next at the destination system…which meant he had effectively lost them again, assuming they didn’t have scouts ahead.

As for Kabbter, the hunters couldn’t do anything to them. The system defense fleet was larger and they had no authority. Mak’to’ran had already made a complete overthrow of the locals and had brought enough loyal people in that he could trust to insure that those deposed didn’t regain their positions. The planet was now out of the Stun Wars and it would be a long time before anyone from the Bav’tor or Lir’nen leadership could react to the change in power…and by that time the planet would be firmly in Mak’to’ran’s little rebellious empire, even if they didn’t advertise that fact.

The idea was to make the necessary changes and then have these worlds he was altering blend into the existing framework, essentially going dormant from a rebellious point of view, but quietly holding themselves together and preventing outsiders from coming in and destabilizing them again. If sufficiently high ranked Lir’nen or Bav’tor came to Kabbter there would be a problem, but if they only communicated by Urrtren or by courier the messages, then any orders they contained stoking further conflict would be ignored or reworked to maintain the allegiances of the two races sharing the single world.

They would not be wasting resources in a pointless war, though in truth this was but a very minor planet and not worth much effort, but every dot on the galactic map mattered to loyal V’kit’no’sat and Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to skip over any of them. If the major fighting started to happen, then small worlds such was this would suddenly become important when the primary worlds got trashed and if the V’kit’no’sat were going to have to be rebuilt from the ashes of a civil war, the more little bastions of stability that Mak’to’ran could arrange beforehand the more he’d have to work with in the aftermath.

Right now Kabbter was on its own, but in a much better situation than just a few days ago. Feeling satisfied with his mission there, Mak’to’ran continued through several system jumps before coming across the checkpoint for his rebel fleet…or at least part of it, for he had ships operating across the galaxy and the few put into play here were a drop in a bucket that continued to fill.

When he arrived at the rendezvous there were only six ships, but he soon received the standard report indicating that all had arrived without incident and the others had proceeded onward according to previously logged orders. Those here were the head counter that reported to Mak’to’ran to insure no one was lost and the five recently acquired ships, four of which were Lir’nen and one was Bav’tor. They had plenty of Zen’zat on them as well, and it was time to take them to what would be their new staging base.

Mak’to’ran dismissed the Kret’net Domjo to return on its own, with it immediately switching its identification codes to match a ship not labeled as a rogue, thus allowing it to move freely throughout V’kit’no’sat space. Mak’to’ran never traveled under such subterfuge, and so far none of his rebel fleet had been targeted. Whether that was by skill, luck, or lack of commitment on the part of Itaru’s minions he wasn’t sure, but the more public he became the greater emphasis there was on capturing or killing him and not his phantom fleet.

That was the hope at least, and right now he had 5 more ships to work into the fold and crews that were mostly new. They now had veteran commanders, but in order to sustain them all they had to have sponsors and such sponsorship had to occur outside of public view. Kabbter would provide cover as far as crew assignments went, logging those individuals onboard as being present on the planet and the ships would not be labeled as missing by the local authorities, though word would inevitably get out through the Urrtren as the arrogant visibly counted ships and spotted inconsistencies.

None of the five ships had engines the equal of Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha, so he was forced to travel slowly as he escorted them through obsolete systems that were not actively monitored while avoiding those that were. Thanks to the gravity drive efficiency and power of V’kit’no’sat ships, even the slowest of them had access to far more jumplines than the other races in the galaxy, making it hard to pin them down to an area unless you had an enormous number of scouts in play with access to the Urrtren to spread information faster than the ships could make jumps.

The small flotilla didn’t encounter any through the 7 additional jumps they made, the terminus of which was a rendezvous with a V’kit’no’sat cargo ship. It was half the size of a Kafcha and was carrying both supplies and equipment necessary to service the crews. The Zen’zat were completely replaced by others, bringing those new volunteers into a network that would reassign them to other places across the galaxy and taking advantage of the fact that they were present in all territories serving all the races. Them not having their own territory was a huge advantage in this situation and the reassigning of them was something that the Era’tran handled more than other races, giving them the perfect cover to continually spread out and quietly test the allegiance and tensions of every system and starship in the galaxy.

Those Zen’zat replacing them were those that needed to disappear or were not interested in infiltration. Many were not, but simply wanted to serve the V’kit’no’sat and Mak’to’ran’s rebel forces seemed to be the only faction that was holding to unity while others were greedily scrambling to grab up everything they could before the main fight broke out.

That still worried Mak’to’ran. These traitors hiding in their midst. No matter how much time he spent thinking on it the only two races that could be responsible were the Oso’lon and J’gar…and yet he could easily rule them out given their positions. The possibility of someone else obtaining access to the Zak’de’ron codes seemed more plausible, but that would indicate a knowledge level that no V’kit’no’sat race possessed…at least as far as was known. The Era’tran could do things now that the others were not aware of, and even Mak’to’ran hadn’t know that until Hamob had informed him, but usurping the mantle of the Zak’de’ron was something he still couldn’t wrap his mind around, especially since the Oso’lon and the J’gar would be the ones most capable of doing it…yet they didn’t need to because they had their own priority coding.

That meant he had to work a problem within a problem, but the one threating to destroy the empire in the here and now was the arrogant and their corruption that was fueling this paranoia and internecine.

To that end he departed immediately, allowing the new ships to integrate the way others had been doing for years as he took his Kafcha off towards his next mission to another system that needed an attitude change. He’d rendezvous with another assembled rebel fleet near to it, then go in alone and size up the situation. Each one was different, but the growing trend was clear.

Many of the V’kit’no’sat, regardless of race, were fed up with the pointless fighting. They wanted to fight the traitors, but until they could be identified they were not interested in pressing old and current disagreements to the point of armed conflict…and they really didn’t like the change of territory these Stun Wars were seeing. Races were already restricted by Itaru to the amount of territory and population they could wield and it was obvious to many that greed was fueling these conflicts more than paranoia at the leadership levels.

A lot of people wanted a firm hand steering them in the right direction, and Mak’to’ran was providing that. He’d enter a system that was on the verge of murdering one another and suddenly half the population would snap into line, making it all the more obvious that Itaru had lost the respect of the empire and no longer had enough loyal forces to compel their edicts…which was why so many factions were springing up. Everyone knew the score now, and some of the factions, particularly Yaquik’s Hjar’at, were now wielding more influence than Itaru without technically defying them.

The Hjar’at and others still had representatives that made up Itaru, but between the obvious alliance between Yaquik and the Era’tran and the fact that the Hjar’at stubbornness was legendary, Itaru knew better than to give them an order that they wouldn’t follow. Right now the appearance of lack of open rebellion was something they could use to try and shore up support amongst smaller races and loyal systems, but with every year that passed Itaru was less capitol ruling an empire and more a strong yet splintering faction in competition with all the others.

The Era’tran were the most prominent race outside the Oso’lon and J’gar that was still intact, and fear of their unified military and tightness with the Zen’zat kept anyone from attacking them directly, as was their reluctance to attack others. So there was a workable stalemate on Era’tran borders with many negotiations happening openly and behind the scenes to benefit from that, with Hamob and the Era’tran leaders busy with reshaping portions of the empire while Mak’to’ran was working almost independently and functioning as the lightning rod for instability, pulling it away from Era’tran territory and attracting rogue elements from other races that had no interest in joining another race…but a rebellion made up of a multitude of races mirroring the original V’kit’no’sat empire was another matter entirely.

So he rarely returned to Era’tran territory, with their supplies and ships coming out to him when needed, often through dead drops, and it was to one of those he went to enroute to the next mission rendezvous. He picked up a few personnel and supplies in a cargo module left behind on a planet filled with primitives so pathetic that the V’kit’no’sat didn’t even bother to monitor them.

One of the Era’tran carried a message packet from Hamob, which Mak’to’ran immediately took to his private chambers and input into the holographic pedestal.

3

June 8, 3623

Hapiwo System

Outer Asteroid Belt

When Mak’to’ran’s ship entered the system there were no other vessels detected in the unclaimed wasteland. Hapiwo barely ranked high enough for a name, and only had one due to the fact that some of the locals used it as a transit point. To the V’kit’no’sat the system was essentially off their navigational charts because longer jumplines allowed them to skip over it entirely when moving through this area and there was no inhabitation here, just a far out series of asteroid fields that contained no valuable substances worth the expense of mining them.

After making sure there were no ships here to detect his presence, Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha transited out to those far off clusters of rock where they found a single ship hiding behind one of the larger asteroids. As agreed, the Sevn’orr had sent only a single vessel, Tiamat-class, which was only 4 miles long and no threat to a Kafcha. They were here to talk, not fight, and a drop pod soon crossed the gap between ships and landed onboard the Era’tran vessel.

Two crocodile-like Sevn’orr walked out with their long necks raised up to match his head height as the elusive Era’tran came forward to meet them while his escorts kept a respectful distance.

“Your trust in us is appreciated,” the slightly larger one on the left said, with its body robe dragging lightly on the hangar deck as its thick tail swayed back and forth behind it to offset the wobbly nature of its movement. The Sevn’orr were not nimble, as far as V’kit’no’sat were concerned, and operated as heavy units with a powerful tail swipe or head butt attack, but otherwise had no significant psionics. They were larger than Era’tran, and considerably so, though most of their mass was lateral rather than vertical. Befitting their nature they did possess Nakane, but offensively they had little to offer unless their opponents wanted to fight, during which they’d trade damage and hope to soak up more than their opponent could.

Mak’to’ran wasn’t worried about them. Against an Era’tran they were hard to take down, but the Era’tran could always turn and run. Their straight line speed was a joke, especially when you got past their limited sprinting ability. They could move quickly for a few steps, but there was no way they could outrun an Era’tran with their waddling strides.

“Speak,” Mak’to’ran said simply, unsure as to what this would be about, for even Hamob hadn’t been able to provide him with much insight as to what they might want.

“What is your relationship with the Era’tran? Do you stand apart or with them?”

“Both.”

“You cannot be both,” the other Sevn’orr said firmly.

“Your names,” Mak’to’ran demanded.

“Vidfer and Doranj. We need to know if you can negotiate for the Era’tran or if you are a rogue entity.”

“I am a rogue entity, but one that also speaks for the Era’tran.”

“So your alliance of rebels has Era’tran support?”

“We are separate so not to draw a noose around their neck, but there is no strife between me and the Era’tran. I speak for them when needed.”

“What are their goals?” Vidfer demanded. “Their actions have been defensive, but do they intend to pursue this Stun War?”

“They intend to honor the bonds that forged the V’kit’no’sat. There is no wish to unilaterally lead. We are an empire of cooperation and mutual purpose, and despite the actions of others we will not alter from that premise unless it becomes necessary to go it alone.”

“And if the Era’tran are attacked?”

“We will respond accordingly.”

“And if it’s the Oso’lon that come after your worlds?”

“Death before dishonor,” Mak’to’ran said with finality. “They may win, but we will hurt them so badly they will regret the victory.”

“And your rebels?” Doranj added. “Will they fight with the Era’tran?”

“My personal forces will fight for any loyal V’kit’no’sat, regardless of race. If the empire is to fall, I will gather as many pieces as I can with which to reforge it in the aftermath.”

“You believe there will be anything left worth salvaging?” Vidfer said in a tone saturated with regret.

“I am acting preemptively to secure what I can, as are others. How much is lost is not a fixed future. Our actions are altering it with each year that passes.”

“The Oso’lon and J’gar are forced into inaction, but when they do act they will annihilate whoever stands in their path.”

“They are not that strong,” Mak’to’ran cautioned. “Nor are they united. Fear of being labeled traitors binds them together, but the cracks are there like in every other race.”

“Apparently not with the Era’tran.”

“Our cracks were dealt with earlier, but they did exist. Fortunately our leaders foresaw the problem and eliminated it. Now we stand in a favorable position, but not one that we are going to exploit to further weaken the empire. We intend to save what we can of it.”

“So we have heard. What are your long term goals?”

“To return us to our mandated purpose…fighting the Hadarak.”

“We are far from that now. The border fleets have been minimized and ship losses are already mounting. We are near to igniting a broader conflict, and we still do not know who the true traitors are.”

“Soon it will not even matter,” Doranj added.

“It matters,” Mak’to’ran said, almost in a growl, “but we cannot exclusively pursue that mystery. I do not expect to discover the traitors until they choose to act. What little hope we had of unraveling this at Terraxis was destroyed by the revelations from the planetary defense station. Whoever is doing this has an unprecedented amount of knowledge and power, and they appear to have covered their tracks to such an extent we will not be able to discover them on our own merits. This presents a problem of unity, and we cannot take the Hjar’at’s path to solving it.”

“We concur, though their growing stability is envied. What is your current standing with them?”

“Yaquik and I are allies. The rest of the Hjar’at stand apart.”

“Yaquik’s faction is growing in strength rapidly. Given time they will dominate the Hjar’at.”

“That is my read as well.”

“And the Era’tran alliance with him?” Vidfer asked, twisting his snake-like neck around a bit while keeping his head level.

“The Era’tran support loyal V’kit’no’sat. Yaquik and his people are loyal.”

“And will the loyal conquer those who are not?”

“Only if necessary. The more fighting that occurs the weaker the empire gets and the greater the likelihood of a Hadarak breakout. We cannot afford to let that happen.”

“If the V’kit’no’sat self-destruct there will be no one left to contain the Hadarak. Preserving the empire must be the top priority. Not one of us can hold them at bay even at full strength.”

“I am endeavoring to do both simultaneously. We cannot afford to waste the hard fought gains of past millennia in a few years of stupidity. We must hold the line and reforge the empire.”

“You say ‘reforge’ rather than ‘reunite.’”

“You cannot unite broken pieces. The arrogant must be purged and bonds reforged. To attempt unification while the arrogant remain is folly.”

“And what of the traitors?” Doranj asked.

“We must draw them out.”

“How?”

“There are ways that I will not discuss, but the simplest method is to return to purpose and see who does not. Traitors do not behave as the loyal do, and the chaos within the empire is too easy a shield for them to hide behind.”

“You believe stability will reveal them?”

“Stability is their enemy. A fractured empire is a vulnerable one, so they will stoke the division. If we begin to eliminate it, they will be forced to act or abandon their plans for an overthrow.”

“If that is their aim…”

“If,” Mak’to’ran agreed. “If not, I fear something far worse…though I cannot currently imagine what such a thing would be.”

“Nor can we. If you are correct then true unity is our only defense. Conquest is defeat no matter who wins a war.”

“And most know it, which is why stun weapons are being used for the most part.”

“Ships can’t be stunned,” Vidfer pointed out. “Even captured they suffer damage.”

“Save for some of the coups you’ve arranged,” Doranj added. “How have you convinced the Zen’zat to aid you?”

“They are loyal to the V’kit’no’sat. I behave as V’kit’no’sat should while everyone else plays the fool. They follow their oaths, not me.”

“As it should be.”

“What did you call me here for?” Mak’to’ran asked directly.

“We have our own internal problems, but we have not suffered as much as others. We need to consolidate our own territory, but how to do that without starting an internal war of our own is problematic. We are here because we wish your help.”

“How so?”

“You have become a symbol of defiance against Itaru and hated by many, but you were betrayed at Terraxis and are not suspected of being part of the treason, even if the Era’tran are.”

“That is why you asked my allegiance? The Era’tran are not responsible.”

“So you say, but you personally are more trusted than them. If you take leadership of the Sevn’orr most will follow you, as will we so long as you hold true to the V’kit’no’sat.”

“Leadership? Are your people so dysfunctional you cannot solve this from within?”

“Not without massive losses of equipment, at the minimum. We have to break with Itaru, and many of the loyal are resistant to that, fearing we are trying to take the Sevn’orr away from the V’kit’no’sat. You are a symbol of unity with a proven record. If we relinquish to you, and you hold true to purpose, we believe our race can be rectified in short order.”

“The arrogant will not go down easily, and they will not use stun weapons.”

“So we have heard, but their numbers cannot be that great.”

“I cannot stay in any one place for an extended period of time. Itaru’s pursuit will catch up and force a conflict.”

“Command does not necessitate proximity. Loyalty is not constrained to borders. We ask for your intervention.”

Mak’to’ran turned to the left, taking a few steps then swinging his tail around and striding the other way.

“What you ask is…complicated. I can’t just show up and right your race. The arrogant have to be identified and removed from every system.”

“When you unite those truly loyal, the arrogant will identify themselves,” Doranj said confidently.

“Through sabotage and assassination. The successes I’ve had were because they did not know my forces were coming. We cannot surprise your entire race…at least not quickly.”

“We are patient when needed, and any assistance will be preferable to the conflict we know is coming. The division amongst us must be dealt with before we can look to exterior threats and distrust is, and rightly so, too high. Any move will precipitate a harsh counter reaction unless the one leading it is trusted.”

“I am hated by many.”

“Not within the Sevn’orr. We have stood in allegiance with the J’gar and Oso’lon since our inclusion in the V’kit’no’sat, but we were forced to choose by outsiders that would have turned on us if we had tried to remain neutral. Choosing the Oso’lon has driven a rift amongst us, even if we are reluctant to aid them in any great way. You can undo that and give us a new allegiance, if the Era’tran are truly with you.”

Mak’to’ran stopped pacing and looked at both longnecks. “You want the Era’tran to be your deterrent, and by allying with us you can step away from both the Oso’lon and J’gar.”

“The suspicion of their treason runs high. We need to distance ourselves from it for our own sake. You and your rebel fleet can be the bridge to allow us to do it while maintaining enough sovereignty to eliminate worries of an Era’tran takeover. You are in the perfect position to restore unity and direction without using a heavy foot. Your strategic mastery is evident, and we ask that you assist us now. In return, we will abandon Itaru and back the Era’tran and you so long as you hold to purpose.”

“This is not something easily done,” Mak’to’ran warned.

“Which is why we required a meeting in person. We have many onboard our ship that will be useful, including those from both sides of this divide. This is a united plea,” Vidfer said, glancing at his counterpart. “We are on opposite sides of the conflict, but united in the belief that you are the means for the Sevn’orr to escape this insanity and return to form.”

“Will you help us?” Doranj asked, and with obvious trepidation in his voice.

Mak’to’ran raised a hand and triggered his Saroto’kanse’vam, with his claws glowing red.

“Even if we do not hold to Itaru’s edicts?”

Both Sevn’orr sneered at the face of the treason, but rumor of his augmentation had reached them before and it was little more than a habitual reaction that both quickly squashed.

“Itaru is now irrelevant.”

“Yet very powerful,” Vidfer countered. “But I agree that their rightful authority is waning. Why have you taken the forbidden psionics?”

“Itaru has betrayed many races, the most obvious of which were the Rit’ko’sor, and if they will not learn from that mistake then they will not learn at all. Our races are not equal, but we are brothers and all should be treated accordingly, not squashed under the bureaucratic heel of the Oso’lon and J’gar.”

“You intend to sanction more psionics?”

“We do not have the power to sanction anything.”

“But if you did, what path would you take for the psionics?”

“Balance is necessary, and some changes should be made to rectify it, but pathways for individuals of merit should be created. Very few Era’tran will have these,” he said, deactivating his claws. “They will have to be earned by the elite, not a right of birth.”

“For what ultimate purpose?” Doranj asked.

“The Oso’lon and J’gar have hoarded psionic privileges for themselves and those they favor. This gives them yet another advantage. If there is to be a civil war, the Era’tran will defend ourselves and small upgrades such as this will be needed.”

“You were given Sav in lieu of the offensive psionics,” Vidfer noted. “To obtain balance.”

“I am still no match for a Hjar’at,” Mak’to’ran admitted. “And that has been tested.”

“Who is?” Doranj argued.

“Races taking new psionics on their own volition will create further chaos,” Vidfer warned. “How many of your people will have these eventually?”

“Very few. The elite of the elite, for use on special missions.”

“Similar to Ultras,” Doranj pointed out.

“I will not argue that point,” Vidfer relented. “But widespread adoption is troublesome.”

“We are not reckless,” Mak’to’ran assured. “We know the danger inherent in psionic imbalance, and you can see it in the Oso’lon Lachka.”

“Agreed, but they are a founding race. It is right that they have an advantage.”

“Even if they are the ones responsible for Terraxis?” Doranj argued.

“No. That would alter matters. Perhaps it is best if the Era’tran are enhanced to counterbalance them.”

“We are not that strong,” Mak’to’ran said regretfully, “but we are focused on building towards the future while everyone else is consumed with paranoia and the opportunity for conquest. If the Sevn’orr are interested in stability then we will attempt to aid you, but I can make no promise of results or level of assistance until I have further information. As I have said many times, we will hold to all loyal V’kit’no’sat, but what you ask will take a great deal of planning and guile.”

“We will follow your lead. Ask of us what you will,” Doranj said, with Vidfer nodding his agreement.

Mak’to’ran huffed, not wanting to go down this path so soon but realizing the opportunity it presented if he was able to pull it off.

“Very well. Bring your people onboard and we will climb this mountain a step at a time, but if you cannot maintain secrecy there will be grave consequences for your people. I need the element of surprise. Deny me that and this will get messy.”

“Still less messy than what we could accomplish on our own,” Doranj said firmly. “Do what you can, then we will do the rest. And when the Sevn’orr can stand on their own again, you will have a firm ally to face the future of the empire, no matter what may come to pass.”

4

May 18, 3626

Ywit System (Sevn’orr Capitol)

Havat

Lexitorac walked across the hard white pavement under the fierce sunlight that blanketed half the planet and lingered in the sky for weeks before the night cycle would begin. As a result there were wild temperature swings that extensive terraforming had only succeeded in diminishing rather than eliminating. The amount of energy hitting the planet was something that couldn’t be easily ignored, but energy shields worked wonders and part of the stellar radiation was being absorbed and transitioned over to the far side of the planet to keep the waterways there from freezing over until they slowly rotated around into the heat again.

The gravity here came in at an impressive 5.3g, making it uninhabitable for most races without augmentation, but this was the world that the Sevn’orr had fled to in their distant past when their original homeworld had been destroyed by the Hadarak…which had been even larger with a gravitational rating of 6.1 though with slightly less landmass. At the time there were fears of the lesser gravity weakening them, and rightly so, for since joining the V’kit’no’sat many of their people were put onto worlds where there were shared facilities. Those operated with a meager 0.9g, and despite being able to adjust their private quarters to whatever gravity they liked, there was a deleterious effect on strength when inhabiting a shared structure or smaller world.

Sevn’orr were the strongest V’kit’no’sat race with regards to gravity tolerance, though theirs was a joke compared to the Hadarak that thrived in the intense gravity of black holes. Still, Lexitorac occasionally wondered how they felt traveling through space and then landing on tiny planets after being used to so much gravity elsewhere. Did they weaken as well or were they immune to the transitions?

For the Sevn’orr the gravity difference was both a weakness and an advantage. When in normal V’kit’no’sat gravity they appeared to be super strong and fast…but compared to others they were still incredibly slow. Their strength held up, but Sevn’orr biology was built to resist the heavy gravity and could not take advantage of the lesser worlds without modification.

Due to the fact that there were so few planets of 5g or higher that were not gas giants, the Sevn’orr had to painstakingly search for and acquire worlds where they could exist in their natural habitat, otherwise they were forced to live in artificial enclosed structures or move about on gravity plates set below the surface of otherwise habitable worlds. Sevn’orr didn’t favor enclosed spaces, and it seemed that the galaxy didn’t favor them, holding instead a multitude of smaller worlds that other races desired.

A decision had been made long ago that in order to expand their territory to sufficient levels a split in their race had to be created in the form of a biological variant that could thrive in the lower gravity. Their creation had been extremely controversial, for the conversion was not a procedure done to living and willing subjects, but something imposed upon those yet to be born.

The result had been, unexpectedly, a great success. The altered version of Sevn’orr were half their size, weak, but very fast. They were deemed Sevn’ach, and once fully organized were sent out to colonize numerous valuable worlds that the Sevn’orr weren’t willing to suffer through the construction process for.

The Sevn’ach originally built cities on the smaller worlds and the Sevn’orr would later come in and inhabit them alongside their smaller brethren, but eventually there were Sevn’ach-only worlds added and when that trend began in earnest the size and industrial strength of their combined civilization exploded. They grew so fast and so far they eventually attracted the attention of the J’gar, who made contact and learned the plight of their homeworld, then offered to incorporate them into an alliance whose express purpose was the defeat of the Hadarak…which at the time had seemed impossible.

So many systems had been retaken from the Hadarak that the Sevn’orr now knew that they could be fought…out on their periphery, at least. Go deeper into their territory and their numbers grew, along with their defenses, but to totally wipe them out would mean traveling into black holes where they nested, and to date the V’kit’no’sat had not found a way to effectively fight them there. It was too extreme of an environment, and one in which they were the most fearsome.

The Sevn’orr homeworld was not located deep in their territory and was one of the worlds reclaimed, but the damage done to it by the Hadarak had collapsed a portion of its surface. It was no longer a sphere, and the once fertile surface had been reduced to ruin. When one looked at it you could see the giant chunk eaten out of it, and as a result its rotational spin had been altered along with many other devastating consequences.

The Sevn’orr still claimed that system and the planet, but they didn’t inhabit it. Their homeworld was ruined, but they weren’t going to let the Hadarak feast off it any more for pride sake, though the Hadarak border was close by and they’d tried to return multiple times.

With that system a constant reminder of the power and danger of the Hadarak, the Sevn’orr had kept the largest percent of any V’kit’no’sat race’s fleet on the border constantly hunting down Hadarak expansions and viciously tearing them apart, for they knew that if they allowed them to linger they’d literally grow stronger and be much harder to remove later. The worlds that they already held were extremely hard to reclaim, and for that reason few assaults were launched against anything other than new incursions.

Havat was not close to the border, making it a safe capitol against the Hadarak though not so safe against other threats…but ever since joining the V’kit’no’sat those other threats had ceased to matter, for those large enough to be a problem had been eliminated and the others had simply been outgrown with the influx of technology and knowledge granted to the Sevn’orr. To put it bluntly, they’d ascended beyond most of their competitors, but rather than focus on the peons that were no longer a threat to them, they were interested in doing as much damage as possible to those who had destroyed their homeworld.

A few cities on other worlds had kept their gravity to match that of the homeworld, but most Sevn’orr artificial gravity was set to match Havat and it was a recurring question how much strength that conversion had lost them…and how much natural speed had developed in compensation.

Lexitorac moved slowly but firmly across the pavement that was still getting baked despite the reduction in stellar radiation hitting the surface, but the heat diminished quickly as his feet hit the shallow water on the edge of the Satu. The inclined bank deepened sharply until Lexitorac had most of his weight supported by the water with only his neck and a tiny bit of his back held above the surface as the current tugged him to the right.

He swam out into it and got a huge boost of speed with it carrying him along so fast he didn’t even need to swim down the twists and turns of the otherwise lazy riven that carried him across the landscape between a mix of thick trunked trees and tall buildings. The Sevn’orr floated mid current, only moving enough side to side to stay in the super-accelerated flow as numerous flying craft passed overhead.

A telepathic prompt from behind him alerted Lexitorac to the presence of a school of Zen’zat swimming up on his tail and passing to the left. They were the elite of the elite who had painstakingly trained their bodies to adjust to the higher gravity. Most Zen’zat that served the Sevn’orr were assigned to the Sevn’ach, but it was said that amongst their ranks the Zen’zat greatly honored those that were able to live in the higher gravity, for it gave them such a strength advantage when returning to ‘normal’ levels that they were respected above and beyond their skill ranks.

Lexitorac returned the telepathic prompt, recognizing their presence and making sure not to swing his tail into them as they swam past using their armor rather than their pathetic arms and legs to propel them onward. For some reason they were never content to let the current carry them, and as long as they could survive in this gravity the Sevn’orr didn’t mind accommodating their haste.

The tiny additions to their arms and legs pulled them past the huge dinosaur and onward, returning them to the middle of the current that took them even further took ahead, but Lexitorac was not in a rush today, nor on most days, for his duties were already complete and he was heading towards a commons area when an alert was broadcast across the planet, which was also displayed above the Satu everywhere the computer tracking saw a passenger was floating.

A holographic image appeared that matched the pace of Lexitorac, but it wasn’t of a Sevn’orr…rather it was an Era’tran that bore an identification marker beneath its image that he immediately recognized.

It was Mak’to’ran, the rogue leader that had been defying Itaru and assembling his own multi-race faction ever since the treason of Terraxis had been revealed…and according to the supplemental information around his image, he was here and in orbit along with an escort fleet of Sevn’orr warships.

“I have been asked by your race to take temporary command of your civilization in order to remove the traitors amongst you and to seal the divide between those who still feel obligation towards Itaru and those recognizing that the empire has fallen. The V’kit’no’sat are no more. We have degenerated into competing factions that seem bent on taking us into a full civil war. So far most of the treachery has been at the hands of assassins, but the Stun Wars that you are seeing are the beginning steps towards large scale lethal combat.”

“When one’s capitol is threatened, do not expect the defenders to restrict themselves to stun weapons, and likewise do not expect any losers to allow themselves to be conquered while not fighting back with their full power. If we do not face this problem head on, the civil war will escalate and destroy the fractured pieces of the empire. I have been gathering many of those pieces in order that we may reforge the V’kit’no’sat and salvage what we can before total destruction.”

“The Sevn’orr are wise enough to recognize that action must be taken now, but due to the lingering divisions they have requested a neutral arbiter. I have agreed to act as such, and have already helped many worlds root out the true traitors and bring both the loyal and misguided together again with a new allegiance…or rather an old one, for I hold to the mandate of the V’kit’no’sat. We were created to fight the Hadarak, and that is what we must return to. Before we can do that in force we must save what we can now, hold the defense lines as much as possible, then rebuild after whatever amount of warfare that comes runs its course.”

“We are going to lose much, so I am here to help you reduce those losses. I have no doubt that assassins lurking amongst you will suddenly reveal themselves to do damage. Confront them, fight them, and remove them from your race whether by their deaths or their capture. The Sevn’orr must be united in order to face what is to come, and I am here to bring you a path forward independent of both Itaru and the Oso’lon.”

“My arrival here will spread across the Urrtren, delivering them a recorded message and activating transitional agents already in place on every Sevn’orr world. I am here because this is your capitol and this is the heart of your civilization. I assure you, I am here by invite. I am not here to conquer and the only non-Sevn’orr ship in this system is my own. I have no influence other than what you give me, and you have given me much. I have experience on many worlds doing this sort of thing, so I ask your cooperation and patience. What is about to happen will happen quickly, but the enemies of loyal V’kit’no’sat are sure to strike. Defend yourselves and your brethren. This poison must be drawn out now, no matter how violently it resists.”

“I can promise you that my orders are that all traitorous elements be captured. We will not kill any Sevn’orr unless they force our hand. If an assassin appears and harms any of you, the promise of taking them alive is rescinded for those individuals. If you do not harm your fellow Sevn’orr, you have nothing to fear from me and my agents. We are here to save the Sevn’orr, and we are beginning now.”

Suddenly the sunlight increased in intensity and the Satu river began steaming lightly, creating a wave of haze that was moving back across Lexitorac as the current propelled him through it. He pulled his long neck back a bit and looked up, confirming that the screening shield was down. Why they would do that he didn’t know, but then his question was answered as drop pods began to emerge from the ships in orbit.

The sunlight screen was configured not to interfere with starships passing through it, but a quick reconfiguration could turn it into a shield or even a weapon if the thermal energy was redirected to specific points. The planetary shields appeared to be down, and it looked like some of Mak’to’ran’s agents were already on Havat and insuring that the landing of whoever was coming down could not be interfered with…which probably meant the orbital defense batteries had also been commandeered in the previous minutes.

“Bold you are my friends,” he said, staring up at the sky through the steam clouds. “Come. Come and make us whole again.”

Mak’to’ran watched from the command deck of his Kafcha as his trained Sevn’orr troops, many of which had already been on operations with him on worlds held by other races, led a large number of hunters down to the surface of the capitol and the other two major planets in the system through the planetary defenses that had been successfully disabled…though incidents were already being reported as at least two assassin groups had tried to forcibly take control of defense guns and shoot down the descending craft.

They had failed, but blood had already been spilt and this operation had barely begun. He needed speed and surprise, but there was no way to determine if he had achieved the latter. Assassins being so close to those two facilities was a bad sign, for it was unlikely that they had all been stationed there. Some word must have gotten out when the ground teams made their moves, and the drop pods needed to make their first landing prior to any of the weapon systems being retaken, for even one would be able to kill many and shut down the landing over a large region on the planet.

But as he watched no such seizures occurred that were not of his own making. His troops landed and reinforced the ground teams, permanently claiming the weapons, shield generators, power stations, comms and every other piece of major infrastructure on the planet.

That was the most critical part and Mak’to’ran breathed a sigh of relief, but the resistance he had expected did come as fights began to break out in many locations and in a wide variety of circumstances. Not all were assassins, with some reluctant Sevn’orr locking doors and holding down a variety of locations in defiance of the takeover, but with Mak’to’ran’s troops using stun weapons only there was no backlash from the majority of the planet and within 30 hours the coup here was done and over with…with a huge number of prisoners that now had to be sorted through, for not all of them were assassins or the arrogant.

Some were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that was a mere inconvenience. The rest of the planet, while vocal about what was happening with varying degrees of support and condemnation, did not devolve into fighting. Mak’to’ran had his chance to make this work, even if a large part of the Sevn’orr on the planet were not happy about it.

Plans made in previous years were now unfolding with Mak’to’ran troubleshooting where needed as massive changes in the Sevn’orr planet were being enacted, most of which were personnel related, but also data and comm protocols. At first he used them to block out knowledge of strikes being made against additional assassin and arrogant cells that were subsequently discovered, but simultaneously he was using them to spread information about what was happening across the empire and within the Sevn’orr, making it clear where the truth lay and cutting to pieces the lies that had been coming out of Itaru and the Oso’lon in particular.

5 days after arriving, and with only a few other systems already following suit in the domino effect that was planned to follow as the comm lag spread throughout the Urrten, the Sevn’orr officially declared their independence from Itaru’s authority and graciously pulled back their allegiance to the Oso’lon in the power struggle between them and the J’gar. That move cemented the support of most Sevn’orr behind Mak’to’ran, for they historically had close ties to both and picking sides had not felt right. Being neutral put the population in a much more honorable state of mind, now only having to worry about defending themselves against dishonorable attacks on their territory rather than being complicit in moves against the J’gar whether they actively participated in them or not.

Sevn’orr territory was huge and spread across the galaxy, with the coup yet to happen on most of those worlds, but the center of their civilization was now loosely under Mak’to’ran’s leadership and it was fortifying with each day that passed.

Now he had to get them squared away and able to operate without his direct oversight before Itaru’s hunter fleets learned of his presence here and came to claim him. He needed the Sevn’orr neutral and apart from the chaos plaguing the empire, and if his presence here forced a fight that would hurt his efforts…meaning he had to leave soon to start bouncing around Sevn’orr territory and out to other locations for more missions that Hamob sent his way or that Mak’to’ran chose of his own volition, but going forward his distant leadership of the Sevn’orr was going to be his utmost priority.

And he doubted Itaru or the Oso’lon would just shrug off the loss without some form of payback.

5

That payback came swiftly. Less than 2 years after Mak’to’ran instigated the successful coup on the Sevn’orr capitol an Itaru-organized fleet of multiple races hit the Era’tran. They couldn’t find Mak’to’ran’s rebel fleet so they went for their obvious backer, attacking 18 different weak to moderate Era’tran-shared systems with overwhelming numbers.

They didn’t have enough in terms of fleet strength to get through the planetary shields over the Era’tran territories, but the other races sharing those worlds let their ground troops down, then they moved around the planet to assault the Era’tran underneath the shield generators…which were augmented and had their edges push so far down they actually dug into the bedrock, blocking the approaching armies.

It was a stalling tactic, and a dangerous one, for the Itaru armies got physical access to the shields when they came up on them. Once they brought down additional equipment, they were able to start destabilizing the shields at those contact points. The Era’tran could have counterattacked them then, but the numbers were so disadvantageous they didn’t try, rather taking what time they had and preparing the battlefield on the inside with all manner of traps and secondary shields.

Before the shield was fully destabilized the Era’tran lifted it, for fear of it collapsing entirely and allowing the orbiting fleets to fire on them directly…which they tried anyway, hoping that it had been weakened enough by the ground troops for them to get through, but most of the ships backed off when the planetary defense guns started shooting them. Apparently they weren’t interested in dying in order to poke a hole through, so the overhead shields held and began to restabilize as the Itaru ground troops were able to pass the threshold and get inside Era’tran territory while their neighbors remained conspicuously absent from the attack.

The Itaru forces attacked using lethal weapons to hit targets, but stun for when they got in a position to make a kill. The Era’tran, however, did not. Forgoing the current belief that the Stun War was an acceptable way of fighting without seriously hurting the overall strength of the V’kit’no’sat, the Era’tran fought tooth and claw every step of the way and started inflicting massive casualties, forcing a pullback on all the worlds until their commanders decided what to do.

Even using stun weapons they should have been doing better given their numbers, but the preparations made to the landscape and the cagey way the Era’tran were fighting were making this a far more even fight than expected. As a result 7 of those attacks were withdrawn and the fleets instead established a blockade of those systems. The others eventually decided to attack with full weaponry, those some pieces of their assault forces refused to push forward, not having previously agreed to kill in order to remove the Era’tran from these systems.

Even without their assistance the Itaru forces held a significant advantage, led by the arrogant who held all dissent against Itaru as an offense worthy of death, and that’s what they wrought, at extreme penalty to themselves, as they tore through city after city. The Era’tran fought a moving retreat, utilizing their Sav-enhanced minds to outthink their opponents on multiple occasions, but the number of troops involved was too great and they couldn’t hold them back forever when they the enemy was willing to take losses of this magnitude.

Three systems were totally overrun, those being the ones with the smallest amount of Era’tran territory. Those with larger amounts took longer to overcome and allowed reinforcements to arrive, at which point the blockading naval fleets went at it with no holds barred. The Era’tran were incensed, knowing that this was the first move in an effort to cull them and responding appropriately. Itaru would claim an overreaction on their part and a betrayal of their V’kit’no’sat bonds to be killing one another over territorial disputes, but few were listening beyond the arrogant as the entire empire caught its breath, suspending many of their own conflicts as they watched to see what would become of this…and which side they should come down on.

This wasn’t the Oso’lon or the J’gar, this was Era’tran versus Itaru, and most people did not fully understand that dynamic. Memories of the Rit’ko’sor rebellion came back with a short-lived panic…until they realized it was Itaru initiating the fighting and not the Era’tran. The Era’tran were on the defensive only, not hitting any other worlds and not even attacking the neighboring races in the systems under assault. The latter were essentially neutral observers taking holos and broadcasting them across the Urrtren while this ‘small’ conflict sorted itself out.

In the end the Era’tran were removed from 10 of the 18 systems and pulled out what few people they had left on two others rather than leave them totally exposed. The remaining six held onto at least a foothold long enough for the Era’tran fleets to start showing up en mass along with, surprisingly to many, Hjar’at support as the two races fought the Itaru forces and killed most of them that failed to flee. Prisoners were taken at the end, and while the Era’tran had been forced out of 12 shared systems that was but a small wound to their overall civilization…but it also proved that Itaru had misjudged them greatly, and with both the Oso’lon and J’gar staying out of it entirely for fear of bringing more ire their way, the prospect of fighting a united Era’tran and Hjar’at scared off so much support that Itaru failed to raise a second assault fleet to finish what they started.

Rather they began organizing a defense of the key, huge multi-racial systems where their support was the greatest while essentially relinquishing massive chunks of the empire to the various factions that had unofficially broken off…and that decision only emboldened the chaos to come, for Itaru’s symbolic rule of the V’kit’no’sat was now also at an end.

What was left was not an empire, but a power vacuum with the two strongest races paralyzed by their potential Terraxis taint, unable to get involved save by proxy, and their surrogates did not hold the same intimidation factor, nor the same amount of fleet resources.

The result was everyone went their own way, pursuing defense, offense, alliances and rebellions. Some races held together and others fractured into pieces, some all the way down to individual systems, as cries came through the Urrtren to Mak’to’ran and his rebel fleet for some form of leadership and protection as the Stun Wars increased in volume, with the only saving grace being that beyond Itaru’s arrogant no one pursued their conquests with full aggression and prisoners were simply relocated to another world of their choosing. Territory was the objective, not the deaths of other races, but what Mak’to’ran had feared came to pass as almost all the races withdrew their Hadarak border fleets to defend their own territory against internal aggression.

8 races kept troops there in addition to the Oso’lon and J’gar, whom the Era’tran and Hjar’at quickly negotiated with to send nearly their full fleets there to fill the gaps. That would be a temporary solution that could not permanently persist, for even the occasional combat with Hadarak was costly in terms of resources that no two races could replace fast enough even if they suffered no personnel losses.

But the two primary V’kit’no’sat races agreed, because they knew the need to hold the line more than the others did, having been part of the trio that created the V’kit’no’sat for this very purpose…but moving their fleets away from everyone else was also a calming factor, for if they were busy holding the line they couldn’t be poised to start a civil war to overthrow the empire…not that there was much of one left. In fact it was a perfect opportunity for the traitors amongst them to act, but whoever it was didn’t overtly, perhaps fearing a rallying cry against them reuniting everyone again.

Whoever was responsible was still playing the waiting game, or perhaps was behind one or more of these emerging factions, but they wouldn’t have the power of the J’gar or Oso’lon to help them, if indeed the list of traitors did include at least one of them. So the desperate move to reinforce the Hadarak border brought badly needed ease to the paranoid fears that had been plaguing the empire and focused very real fears on the Stun Wars that were already in play…and would not be reined in now that the two largest fleets were out of the equation, save for the pieces of them that quietly began migrating to Itaru-loyal worlds to increase their defenses.

Mak’to’ran saw that as the arrogant assembling themselves and consolidating their power…which hopefully would draw them out of the vast reaches of the empire and leave those systems unplagued by their stupidity. Unfortunately there were numerous other motivating factors driving the Stun Wars, but having this one at least reducing was a help in the short term.

In the long term, however, Mak’to’ran saw a bitter fight coming if the V’kit’no’sat were ever to be whole again. Right now that didn’t matter. The empire was dead, and whatever he was going to reforge wasn’t going to be located on Itaru. It was going to be built wherever loyalists could be located and recruited.

“I have included the full prospectus with this message. Delete it after committing it to memory,” Hamob’s hologram said. “As it pertains to you, I have need to ask you for an even greater responsibility than we had discussed before. The Era’tran cannot become conquerors. If we are to reforge the V’kit’no’sat we must do it now, not after we secure territory. An alliance between Era’tran and Hjar’at is still suspect to those influenced by lies. They must learn the truth via our actions, and our actions must be of steadfast defense.”

Mak’to’ran growled approvingly, sensing where this was going.

“We cannot assert ourselves in order to combat the arrogant and otherwise unscrupulous in other races sufficient to the task before us. The empire is too vast. We must help to guide our brothers back to purpose, but we cannot force them. The Era’tran cannot force them. You, however, are another matter. You wield influence and leadership as weapons along with a multi-racial fleet, and I would encourage you to continue utilizing agents from the races you are attacking as overseers afterwards. We must dispel the myth that greed is fueling our actions, and I fear that any conquest by the Era’tran or Hjar’at will be seen as driven by such.”

“We are and will continue to hold our territory and defend those in alliance with us, but you must be the change agent. You will lead the assaults where necessary, and if applied appropriately I predict you will be able to conquer more worlds through diplomacy than direct action. I trust in your judgement. Continue to use it to full effect, for every year that passes the idea of the V’kit’no’sat diminishes. It is becoming a lie of the past, and we must demonstrate that the lie was a betrayal of the arrogant, not of what the V’kit’no’sat truly are.”

“You must become our sword and rally the systems, individually if necessary, to us. We are maintaining our territory in Itaru, and currently it doesn’t look like we’re going to be fighting there. If it should happen, that is not your concern. We will deal with it. But indications suggest that it is going to be neutral ground as the arrogant try to ply their lies and wage a war of propaganda. They know they can’t forcibly rule the empire, so they are moving to secondary agendas. That leaves you free to operate and go where you will. Stay evasive, but I believe you are now beyond their attempted reach. Assassins would be their likely attempt to get to you. If that happens, the V’kit’no’sat could be lost. You have a legitimacy that cannot be gained by another given present circumstances. Do not allow yourself to be destroyed or we are severely hindered.”

As Mak’to’ran read through the plans the Era’tran had cooked up, which were lengthy and encompassed a lot of areas he hadn’t even begun to delve into, the impact of what Hamob had said about him being destroyed began to sink in. He knew he was a symbol and rallying point for the rebellion and an ambassador for the Era’tran, but that’s not what Hamob had been referring to.

It took some self-reflection to realize that he’d become more important than that, perhaps a great deal more. Mak’to’ran couldn’t know, looking from the inside out, so he heeded Hamob’s warning. If he was becoming such an intense focal point Itaru would gain greatly from eliminating him. He’d always assumed they would if they got the chance, but from what Hamob had inferred they might be willing to sacrifice an entire fleet of ships on a suicide run to get him…and that meant he was going to have to rethink a lot of his activities.

No, he wasn’t going to hole up somewhere and lead from afar. He had to be up front and personal, but there were ways to add layers of security and the most important of them all was not letting other people know where you were going. That meant they’d only have the local assets and agents in place to use against him, assuming he left before reinforcements could arrive. Mak’to’ran had been operating that way already and it appeared that it was going to be necessary indefinitely.

He was also going to need an anonymous set of armor…or one that he could toggle on/off with his identification. He had to be able to move around the surface of planets if needed without drawing attention, and as long as other Era’tran were in the rebel fleet he could disappear as the leader and become one of them. Such a thing was risky, almost to the point of recklessness, but his experience had taught him that the safest place to be was where the enemy didn’t see…even if that was standing right beside them.

But the additional attention was a double edged sword, one that he could use to greater advantage if he could get a handle on how he was being seen. It wasn’t a matter of manipulation, but in determining how much credibility he had and how much leverage that would buy him in negotiations…leverage that could avoid fights and further loss of materiel and lives, for despite Itaru’s apparent pullback the reports of assassinations had not declined and they were not fully revealing themselves in any one circumstance. They were operating in pockets, waiting to be dislodged and detonated like a bomb in most cases, but Mak’to’ran had also discovered evidence of more surgical removals of isolated individuals rather than attempts at short term, massive purges.

There was a long list of victims that was going to be getting even longer, but on many worlds where that insanity had already played out unity was returning along with functionality. Now though, with Hamob’s recent revelations, Mak’to’ran was going to have to take his efforts beyond a rebel fleet and start organizing a true alliance.

Industry, safe trade and travel, and securing the Urrtren relays was going to take priority, though fortunately no one had struck at the Urrtren yet, but he sensed that would be coming soon. What little grip he thought he’d had on the flow of events had just been shattered with the news that the devolution of the empire was progressing far faster than his limited intelligence had informed him. If Hamob had not been feeding him periodic information, what tidbits he’d been getting off the Urrtren would have left him unprepared for what was coming.

“Not enough time,” he mewed, reviewing the mass of data again before finally deleting it. “Not enough time.”

6

January 14, 3636

Vviot System (Fi’ti territory)

Navirashonmety

Mak’to’ran’s rebel fleet didn’t encounter any resistance when they entered the system, for all the Fi’ti warships were in orbit of the single world they exclusively held while their Zen’zat operated some mining operations on the others that were airless save for one, Dargonziat, but the air there was dry and they’d left that to their Zen’zat as well. It held a sizeable shipyard for the smaller vessels that Zen’zat operated and were built specifically for their diminutive size, all the way up to Domjo-class warships.

The Fi’ti lived on the waterworld of Navirashonmety, which had all of 2% of its surface area occupied by land and those scattering of islands were covered with airborne infrastructure in addition to many other spires rising out of the oceans that held small cities on top of them, though most of the Fi’ti civilization was beneath the waves.

Unique amongst the V’kit’no’sat, the Fi’ti were the only race to straddle the aquatic/avian divisions. The seal-like swimmers had skin patches that concealed massive wings that they’d unfurl once above the waves and take to the air with, looking like giant kites and slow moving until they pulled in their wings and dove for the waves. They were very quick descending and could use gravity to their advantage, angling into decent agility then struggling to gain altitude again.

That made them almost a joke to the other avians, and as far as aquatics went they were undersized. Given that they lived on waterworlds they had found their allegiance with the aquatics in most cases, but they were reluctant to share worlds and as a result had less territory that the other races, but most of what they had was theirs and theirs alone.

This system only had a Dak’bri and 4 Wur’ki assigned to it, with the latter ships being less than 3 miles wide and manned exclusively by the Fi’ti Zen’zat, probably having been built in this system along with others that had been sent out to their other systems. Natural resources here were plentiful, but narrow in selection. Imports were necessary for some requirements of starship production, but the bulk of the raw materials were available here and the Fi’ti’ had made good use of them so far, save for the fact that most of the ore in the system had yet to be collected. The mining operations were sufficient to supply what they needed, but had the system been under Era’tran control a much more aggressive industrialization would have been pursued on the extraneous planets.

The reverse was true beneath the waves of the primary world. Era’tran didn’t expand much in the water, but the Fi’ti did and the sensor readings coming from the planet indicated heavy work going on beneath the seafloor as the population of some 3.9 billion Fi’ti and nearly 10 times that number of Zen’zat had been beefing up the planetary defenses in recent decades, and wisely so, for the loyalists here had taken control of the system and been recruiting others. Now it stood as a bastion of stability and sanity…but in the V’kit’no’sat’s current state that seemed to draw trouble more than repel it, so they’d reached out to Mak’to’ran and asked for his assistance.

With this fleet came more Fi’ti vessels from other parts of what used to be the V’kit’no’sat empire that had joined recently at Mak’to’ran’s request. He’d made his intentions for the Fi’ti clear and they’d abandoned their other worlds in order to travel with him here, in what was going to become the rebels’ official capitol system.

That had shocked many, for they rightly saw the flaw in that logic…the rebels had persisted because they couldn’t be located and overwhelmed. Tying themselves to territory was a massive mistake, and Mak’to’ran would have agreed before, but things were different now. Itaru had withdrawn nearly all influence back to what they saw as their core systems and other races/factions now held sway over local regions. This system was not too far from the Hjar’at, but was still outside their domain.

But it was very close to a black hole that was the intersection point of 7 different major traffic routes…and over the following year the incoming traffic would be heavy with Zen’zat ships, for Mak’to’ran had sent word throughout the galaxy that any Zen’zat wishing to serve the V’kit’no’sat rather than a racial faction should make their way here, where the empire was going to be reforged one system at a time if necessary, but the disunity plaguing the V’kit’no’sat would not be allowed to exist any further.

And come they would, along with additional defense fleets from the Hjar’at, Era’tran, and Sevn’orr that covered the construction of a Barkod-class defense station in null orbit around the pair of stars at system center. The superstructure wasn’t even a tenth complete yet, but as more and more Zen’zat arrived they were assigned to the project and the mining efforts supplying most of the materials while the rebel fleet covered convoys from other loyal systems that were also contributing to the construction of what would be the new Conclave.

Technically the Elder Conclave was still on Itaru with representatives from all races there, but Mak’to’ran couldn’t let that stand. If he was to reforge the V’kit’no’sat he had to establish a new center to counterbalance Itaru, though this system was a joke in comparison. Knowing that, he didn’t label it the Elder Conclave nor advertise it as such. It was what he called a Yeen Conclave, with the word ‘Yeen’ meaning ‘seed’ in the V’kit’no’sat language, and an admission that this was just a beginning, but one that the loyalists could rally around.

The Era’tran sent a delegation, as did the Hjar’at and the Sevn’orr, but they were not tasked as ambassadors or representatives. They were sent with the understanding that they would serve Mak’to’ran, for until true unity could be restored it was his leadership they were relying upon to glue them together, so there was no point in pretending that anyone other than him ruled this new alliance.

At the same time the Era’tran and Hjar’at were pursuing their own courses. They were part of the alliance and yet not, which was odd to some but when one understood the complexities of interstellar civilizations you realized that unity was a matter of allegiance rather than physical bonds. Each star system was in itself a separate empire connected to the others by trade and laggy communications. Knowing that, Mak’to’ran could begin to grow the reborn V’kit’no’sat a piece at a time while everyone else continued doing what they were doing and the two agendas would most likely not be at cross purposes.

The mass defection of Zen’zat from across the galaxy only increased as word continued to spread, and the factions they were coming from were not happy about it, including Itaru, but Mak’to’ran was assembling so many ships that the defense fleet holding his capitol now contained ships from more than half the races in the V’kit’no’sat and with the augmented planetary defenses to run to, removing the rebels would be a task that would require a sizeable fleet…and even if they succeeded, the Mak’to’ran’s forces would just run and scatter like before. An enemy could take their capitol, but they couldn’t kill them so long as they continued to operate like a rebellion and Mak’to’ran wasn’t about to give up that advantage as a fallback point.

He didn’t spend much time in Vviot, still roaming around the galaxy with his rebel fleet while those from the major races sat and held the new capitol that was ironically located well outside the galactic core and on the opposite side from Terraxis, putting them about as far from that treachery as possible without being all the way out on the rim border.

Operating under his direction, the new Conclave formulated basic economic plans to begin linking the list of systems already loyal to Mak’to’ran and including as many factions as were willing, each on their own terms, for most trade had shut down when the empire split, and some races fared worse than others when having to internally supply all they needed to operate.

No V’kit’no’sat race was dependent on trade to survive, nor was any system. That would have been a sign of inferiority but while basic survival was always covered by local resources, larger projects required external support. The sheer size of V’kit’no’sat ships meant they required enormous amounts of material and work to construct, not to mention the infrastructure projects present in every race that made the warships look small in comparison. Much had been built up in the past, making the scope and magnificence of the empire a wonder to behold, but replacing such things was a slow process when they were destroyed or something new was wished to be created, and often resources were drawn from hundreds of systems simultaneously in order to build the giant constructs in a relatively short amount of time.

That was essentially dead now, save for what a race or faction could summon within itself, but a greater problem was that over the course of the life of the empire, territory had not been allowed to be conglomerated amongst any race. Everything was spread out, so even the Era’tran didn’t have a chunk of the galaxy to call their own or any real borders to manage. Theirs was a civilization of thousands of systems spread across the great swirl of the galaxy as if a Zen’zat had grasped a handful of sand and threw it far and wide.

Most economic projects drew from those systems nearby, with one race purchasing or trading with the others in order to reduce the length of the supply lines. If you had to ship material across half the galaxy for a project it would either take an enormous cargo fleet or an incredibly long amount of time, thus the fracturing of the empire had hurt it more than one would otherwise think, especially with certain travel routes being blocked.

Mak’to’ran’s forces were close enough to the black hole to keep it clear, and once he had enough ships gathered he placed a second defense fleet on station there permanently even though he didn’t possess the Barkod. That belonged to the Oso’lon, but there was no issue with the two being in the same system, for it was huge given a gravity well of that size, and Mak’to’ran’s rebel fleet wasn’t blockading it…they were there to insure just the opposite. He wanted a free flow of ships and acted to intercept anyone trying to poach small fleets passing through.

In doing that he was aiding the Oso’lon, who had long ago been tasked with doing the same, and most factions wished for the free flow to continue. If not, huge detours would have had to be made and the travel routes would have grown even more painfully long.

That little bit of stability made many factions grateful, and they redirected other traffic that way in order to avoid other troubled areas even if this was a huge detour, for losing ships was far more problematic. Even the factions that Mak’to’ran was pulling Zen’zat away from and taking their worlds with his continuous ‘help’ to local loyalists were in favor of his actions in what was known as Satuani 192.

Like the Satu that linked various parts of a city, the black hole routes were the fastest means of getting from one end of the former empire to another and were referred to as ‘Satuani’ rather than having individual system names. All Satuani linked to at least 1 other black hole within jump range, though many could be connected together into a circuit…but unfortunately that circuit did not span the galaxy. There were also missing chunks where ships had to move through conventional jumps at what was a crawl compared to the speeds a ship could manage jumping off a black hole.

So it was that Satuani 192 became known as the capitol of the rebellion, for Vviot was so nearby that a few normal jumps didn’t matter, and rather than it being seen as a point of conflict it was marked on everyone’s continually readjusting navigational maps as a point of stability…for the rebels were not interested in conquest, but rather protection and everyone knew it. Hated as they were by some, the rebel fleet at Satuani was a welcome sight as fleets of cargo ships from hostile factions passed through without escort and the reliability of Mak’to’ran’s word and the ability for his fleet to follow his orders without fail spread enough good will across the galaxy that the influx of Zen’zat continued nonstop, bringing with them many ships and specialists that he put to good use.

Within a few more years he was able to spread out to three more Satuani, securing them and even two of their Barkod stations without a fight. The third he negotiated for, offering up a number of Zen’zat ships in trade and stretching out the ‘safe’ network of black hole jumps that then allowed unfettered trade to flow unrestricted within that small region of the galaxy, returning a bit of normalcy in the midst of the galactic chaos.

Meanwhile elsewhere planets were changing hands, and not always shared ones. Full blown assaults were happening between factions, but with few deaths. Once ships were disabled or planetary defenses taken down, stun weapons were still being used when appropriate and the defenders lost few people…only equipment, infrastructure, and territory.

The attackers were willing to sacrifice more than that, especially when going after fully protected worlds. Breaching planetary shields was costly, and the defenders didn’t hold back with anti-orbital fire save for holding off the last few shots that would completely destroy ships. Still, many died in orbit in order to force a breach and establish a foothold in a weird set of battle ethics that had factions, sometimes of the same race, willing to die to take each other’s territory but not that interested in killing one another.

Mak’to’ran put feelers out to try and get a handle on why, because if people were interested in not weakening the V’kit’no’sat they wouldn’t be throwing themselves against planetary defenses, and the responses he got back from many planets and races was that they were fighting to survive. No one wanted to be the destroyer, but they weren’t going to tolerate misdeeds against them while waiting for the traitors behind Terraxis to work whatever subtle strategy was behind the current chaos.

So there it was. That phantom threat still driving the division within the V’kit’no’sat. Mak’to’ran needed to get to the bottom of it but the troops attacking Star Force, ironically the most united given the importance of their mission, still couldn’t identify who was responsible…and the Humans were putting up far too much of a fight, though their inevitable demise was already underway. More of their systems were falling, but no insights as to the identity of their sponsor were surfacing.

It was rumored that the ‘Uriti’ might hold some clues, or at least those overseeing the altered Hadarak. Mak’to’ran was no longer referring to them as Hadarak after seeing addition combat footage. They did not fight the same way, making him realize that whatever had been done to them changed them into something altogether different, and even the severe wounding of one by a rogue J’gar fleet that attacked without Itaru backing was not enough to neutralize, let alone fell it.

Era’tran biologists were studying what data had been retrieved and were convinced that the armor on the Uriti was harder than Yeg’gor, yet it was also flexing. Hadarak armor could flex in places, but the hardest parts, from which Yeg’gor had been created to match, could not move. These Uriti had no soft spots, for all of their bodies could bend at least slightly, yet were virtually impervious to weaponsfire in a way that made them superior to Hadarak…even if they were still diminutive by comparison.

Would they grow larger given time? That was an assumption that was almost unanimous amongst the Era’tran scientists, so the longer Star Force and its numerous allies held the Preserve the stronger the Uriti would grow, though it didn’t appear that they were spawning any new ones. That little caveat was a source of major concern, but after four separate attempts to attack and at least gain data from the efforts, the V’kit’no’sat could not hope to destroy them without sacrificing a fleet the size of which could not be assembled given current circumstances…and even if all had been normal in the V’kit’no’sat, an assured fleet loss of that size would have made such an operation almost impossible to launch.

They needed to separate the Hadarak, and so long as they stayed and fought together it would be a very hard fight, but what would require an insane number of ships was the unknown capabilities of Star Force’s allies, some of which were fielding technology that the V’kit’no’sat scientists still could only guess at.

Without being able to size them up, sending less than truly overwhelming forces would risk defeat, so Mak’to’ran knew the days of assaulting the Preserve were over. That was a fortress that Star Force was going to keep, all the while their other systems were left vulnerable.

Mak’to’ran doubted that any information could be recovered from those in the Preserve concerning the identity of the sponsors unless prisoners could be taken, and given the level of security they’d shown thus far he assumed contingencies would be in place to prevent such knowledge from getting out.

Sad to say, this constant mystery as to who the sponsors were was something he and the V’kit’no’sat had to live with, making it a lingering poison that could not be denied.

His own forces were mostly above suspect, but there was always lingering doubt. The Hjar’at were seen as safe now, for no one expected them to be smart enough to have engineered this…unless they were working with another, at which point the mental invasions would make no sense. Going to that depth of personal invasion was abhorrent, but the fact that the Hjar’at had deemed it necessary to absolve themselves was a welcome reassurance. Nearly everyone assumed with confidence that they were not the traitors, but there were still 192 other races that were suspect, though Mak’to’ran knew the Era’tran were not involved.

Or did he? Could he have been played this entire time by Hamob or others?

It was something a master strategist had to at least think through in order to avoid a potential blind spot, but his gut instinct told him no…though it also told him that no other race was responsible either, for there was no advantage that he could see. Whatever Star Force was intended to be was still a mystery, and without knowing the particulars of it he couldn’t trust his reasoning when it was based off assumptions rather than facts.

But if the Era’tran were somehow involved, they’d given him the perfect opportunity to counter them. The one mind in the galaxy that he could be assured was not corrupt was his own, and he unilaterally commanded this rebellion. He would not take orders from traitors, and he was sure Hamob knew that.

So no, the Era’tran would not be involved unless there was some master play here far beyond his reasoning. He wasn’t the eldest Era’tran but he wasn’t young enough to be so outclassed. Something else was happening and he needed to figure it out to heal the V’kit’no’sat…but he couldn’t. So how was one to build an empire without concrete bonds of trust?

Then again, maybe the entire point of Star Force was to create that perpetual seed of doubt, and to be honest, it had done more damage than all the warships the Humans had created. It had succeeded in destroying the V’kit’no’sat empire, or rather pushing it over the cliff it had been edging towards for some time.

So if this was what the traitors wanted, when would they take the next step?

Not now. Not anytime soon. They’d let the carnage continue to escalate, for the Stun Wars, while doing damage, were sparing a lot worse from happening. If someone wanted the military might of the V’kit’no’sat neutralized before they made whatever move they were planning, this was the slow way to get around to it.

And right now, with the little bit of stable empire that Mak’to’ran was building, the best way he could fight the traitors wasn’t to identify enemies to destroy, but in creating new strength to replace what was being lost. That meant economic and masterbuilding skills that were not his specialty. Fortunately that’s what the Conclave was for, and within it would be specialists of every variety and they would be tackling the non-military challenges that Mak’to’ran tasked them with.

And going forward, he expected them to be very busy…even before their Barkod was fully constructed.

7

March 22, 3642

Teeq System (Bez capitol)

Innoxmakthra

Mak’to’ran’s drop pod set down in a desert on the equatorial continent amidst many others that contained his personal guard. The local Bez were keeping a respectful distance with the tips of some of their cities visible on the flat horizon, but this was as neutral of a meeting place as one could find on the planet. They needed to talk face to face, but the Bez did not want to come onboard his ships for fear of security concerns. What exactly they wouldn’t say, but they wanted a neutral location and this desert had checked out by Mak’to’ran’s advance teams, clearing it of any potential sabotage.

So Mak’to’ran and one of his three Hak’mar, which was the equivalent of an apprentice/regional governor, walked out away from the drop pods as three Bez approached from their distant position. Several miles had to be crossed before they met up, so the Era’tran ran easily across the hard packed and sun bleached ground as what looked like their mirror images approached. The Bez were bipedal with approximately the same skeleton as the Era’tran, but soon the differences became noticeable as they closed in.

Their skulls were elongated into a narrow snout and their bodies were a bit thinner with longer arms, but the biggest difference didn’t show up in the wavering heat shimmers until they got close, because Mak’to’ran was viewing it straight on. Along their backs was a huge, narrow fin that contained the biological mechanisms for multiple psionics, and it rested on a frame that was slightly larger than the Era’tran, so when the spinosauruses came to a stop a few steps away they looked down on Mak’to’ran slightly.

All three wore armor, as did the two Era’tran, but all had it retracted into ‘jewelry mode’ so that most of their bodies were visible. The Era’tran’s deep red skin clashed with the yellow of the Bez that also had decorative streaks of white that were natural, unlike the bioluminescent tattoos Mak’to’ran bore.

“What is this about, Renni?” Mak’to’ran asked the Bez he’d known since his time on the Hadarak front.

“Thank you for coming. Inform your people that we are going comm silent.”

“As you wish,” he said, telepathically contacting his escorts and warning them, then he nodded and his armor comm and data feeds suddenly cut out as the Venkof psionic in the Bez’s fins put out enough interference to isolate the 5 from any potential eavesdropping. “Who are you afraid is listening?”

“Someone on your side. We’ve gone to painful lengths to assure security on our end. Who is this?”

“Tu’vo. He is one of my Hak’mar.”

“You have Hak’mar now?” Renni said sarcastically.

“I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Of course not, but how serious are you about this reforging of the V’kit’no’sat? The rest of the galaxy seems bent on going their own way.”

“Or destroying each other,” one of the other Bez added.

“The disposition of my fleet should attest to the desire for unity,” Mak’to’ran quipped.

“So I noticed. What I want to know is what kind of strength do you truly wield?”

“Growing by the year.”

“I need more than that.”

“My influence is strong, and I know better than to try to micromanage. I have been helping races purge disloyal elements then leave them to their own purposes. No one likes having assassins roaming about.”

“No,” Renni said, his tone growing dark. “We’ve had plenty here already, but you are safe. I have made sure of that.”

“You want to negotiate. What exactly?”

“How much do you know of the Praetaro faction of the I’rar’et?”

“The I’rar’et have broken into 3 major factions and dozens of smaller splinters. The Praetaro are isolationists wanting no allegiance.”

“They want no allegiance, but they do want territory. They have been attacking us frequently.”

“That seems counterproductive,” Mak’to’ran said, referencing the Bez’s unique combat kit.

“We have few Zen’zat remaining, they have many and are claiming Ter’nat systems to deny us more.”

Mak’to’ran frowned. This was the first he’d heard of the Ter’nat refuges being involved.

“What have they done?”

“Taken custody of those within our territory, save for three. I do not think they are altering them, only securing the recruits for themselves…with changed oaths.”

Mak’to’ran swore a string of curses he hadn’t used in a long time.

“Exactly,” the third Bez said. “And we don’t have the naval power to stop them. When they come to ground it’s mostly a standoff. They can’t get to us and we can’t get to them, but we’re being weakened and others are eyeing that weakness. Others that won’t fight with the I’rar’et, but they’ll coordinate their assaults around them. You know we don’t fight well alone on the ground.”

Mak’to’ran exchanged glances with Tu’vo. For all the similarities between the Era’tran and Bez, the Bez were clearly the inferior even with their psionic fin. They were slower, had less muscle mass, and couldn’t roll over with that fin sticking up off their backs. They were big and strong compared to a lot of other races, but not very nimble. Combat usually saw them standing in place and firing weaponry in their armor as if they were a fixed turret, whereas Era’tran would move, ram, and wrestle as needed. His arms might be short, but they were strong enough to lock onto an opponent if they got close enough.

The Bez’s arms were more lanky, and while they could accomplish the same thing their fin off balanced them somewhat. If they got knocked down, all it would take was someone stepping on their fin to pin them…assuming the Jumat tissue inside it didn’t blow the foot off. They could only release it to the sides, but it was a way of peeling enemies off and worked well against Zen’zat, so the Bez were still formidable opponents, but they worked much better in support of other races and in particular the Era’tran, whom they considered cousins even though the two races had no contact prior to joining the V’kit’no’sat.

In addition to the comm jamming and lateral Jumat, the fins were also able to produce a dome shield form of Nakane that would extend out far enough to cover multiple other Bez, though it was of more use covering Era’tran, Zen’zat, or other races that didn’t have Nakane. It was particularly useful against air strikes, which was why the more powerful I’rar’et were checkmated when it came to ground combat.

Add in the Rentar that Bez also possessed, and they were very useful support troops when used in conjunction with V’kit’no’sat deployments…but with the V’kit’no’sat now unofficially disbanded they had to stand alone with their Zen’zat, and compared to many other races that was not a good matchup. The Bez weren’t pushovers, but they had tactical weaknesses that could be exploited, just not by the I’rar’et.

“We’ve secured nearly all our worlds,” Renni continued. “Our race is better than 80% unified and the remainder is being worked on, but our prospects going forward are grim if we stand alone. Itaru has abandoned us and we cannot trust the Oso’lon or J’gar. We’ve worked well with the Era’tran in the past, and you have a special relationship with the Zen’zat. I asked you here to negotiate an alliance for the entirety of our race, but if word of the nature of our discussion leaks out our enemies could decide to strike quickly and secure what territory they can before it becomes much harder to obtain.”

“Your caution is wise,” Tu’vo agreed. “There will be no leak from us.”

“There cannot be,” Renni insisted. “Until we have a course of action fixed, word of us even discussing the matter would destabilize the fragile unity we are building. Your arrival here is being noted as a diplomatic envoy. We have not said that it was us that requested it.”

“What are your concerns?” Mak’to’ran asked, sensing where this was going.

“There are still factions amongst us ready to rise up, if we…”

“No. What are your concerns with me and the Era’tran?”

Renni looked down at Mak’to’ran’s arms. “Show me your Saroto’kanse’vam.”

He did as requested, flaring the glowing red talons for the three Bez to see with all three of them making gestures of displeasure.

“Do you have them too?”

“No,” Tu’vo said. “I have not earned them nor do I expect to. They are for the elite only.”

“Your Hakja?”

“Perhaps someday,” Mak’to’ran said. “Right now only a few of us possess additional psionics, and I have more than Saroto’kanse’vam.”

Renni glared in a disbelieving way. “What else have you added?”

“Jumat and Nakane.”

One of the Bez hissed, taking a step back, but Renni just looked perplexed.

“Why? If your entire race will not take these, why only a few?”

“Because too many psionics is not a good thing unless they are earned. We learned this a long time ago by watching the Zen’zat. The few that have more than we do are an asset, not a liability. Give all Era’tran too many and problems could arise.”

“Why do you have them?”

“Because I am the most hunted individual in the galaxy.”

“Probably true,” the Bez on Renni’s left said, “but it still feels wrong.”

“If you are to reforge the V’kit’no’sat, who will determine psionic assignments?”

Mak’to’ran looked his longtime friend down the snout. “There are some obvious miscarriages that need addressed, but beyond those a system for individuals earning others will be devised. A very hard system, but one that will reward those willing to ascend to such heights. The Conclave will carefully make alterations to what the V’kit’no’sat previously were, but we know not to change much, for drastic alterations are not needed.”

“Who have you promised upgrades to?”

“A few. The Dan’chey, especially.”

Renni huffed. “Nakane?”

“Yes, but not necessarily all of them. At present we are discussing a mid level upgrade, one not too difficult to obtain, but there is no reason for their civilians to possess it.”

“This concerns me, Mak’to’ran. It concerns me greatly.”

“I understand. I have been forced to abandon precedents in order to chart a new course forward. I have had time to contemplate and analyze for years. Thrown at you immediately I expect a refusal. The whole of the V’kit’no’sat is an accumulation of wisdom and experience. It does not need changed, only tweaked in a few places where the corruption of Itaru was holding us back.”

“These are…unprecedented times. I do not like what you say, but I hear the ring of truth in it.”

“There is a great opportunity for ruin,” the Bez on his right warned.

“That I am well aware, but if I am not to act who can?”

“None. You alone hold the influence necessary. Everyone else is suspect in some form. So long as you hold to your current course you can bring many back together, but if you start tossing out permissions for additional psionics it will turn many away.”

“It takes more than permission,” Tu’vo added. “The knowledge to create these is not easily come by.”

“But others will try, if they haven’t already,” Renni said, not having thought that through before. “If we don’t reclaim order, we may be seeing far greater changes in psionics forthcoming, and who would have the strength to cull them back? I do not like this, for the Era’tran are strong enough already, but if you are restricting them to your most elite troops while allowing others to do so as well…if earned…then there is equity there. Do you have a list yet?”

“Not a firm one, and we aren’t currently developing any crossovers. What I have has been in the works for a long time.”

“Before the fall?”

“Wiser minds than I foresaw it coming.”

“Next time assign them to Itaru…if we ever get it back.”

“It is only a piece of the empire. The rest is far more important.”

“It is Itaru,” the Bez on the left objected.

“Is it now?” Tu’vo countered. “The infrastructure remains, but is the spirit of the V’kit’no’sat there?”

“We still all have Elders there, do we not?” Renni said, looking at Mak’to’ran. “But we are willing to acknowledge your Conclave as having operational authority if we can come to terms. We will not abandon Itaru, but we will not pretend to follow their lead anymore. Hopefully the neutrality there will remain. Do you counsel us removing ourselves from those territories?”

“No,” Mak’to’ran said firmly. “The arrogant would simply claim them and grow stronger. If Itaru is to ever return to us we need to keep as many footholds there as possible.”

“Good. In that we are agreed. What help can you give us with the I’rar’et?”

“Neither my forces nor the Era’tran will allow Ter’nat worlds to be claimed. I will assert control over them on behalf of the V’kit’no’sat and maintain their previous protocols. If the I’rar’et will not comply, they will have a united Era’tran to deal with and even if they were still united that would not be enough. Our strength has always exceeded theirs, and that has not changed.”

“And can you convince Zen’zat to return to us? Most have left.”

“To go where?”

“To you, I assume. We have not tracked them nor tried to restrict their leaving for fear it would make the others revolt. Those loyal to us have agreed to stay under those terms and help us defend, but they have no interest in conquest. In fact they find the division in the empire vexing. They are sworn to defend the V’kit’no’sat, and there is no more V’kit’no’sat…other than the hope you bring.”

“What exactly do you wish to negotiate?”

“Full inclusion, which I do not believe even the Era’tran have committed to as of yet?”

“I have had to keep my distance from them for symbolic reasons, but we are united, just not integrated.”

“How much integration can your…what are we going to call it? You are not truly rebels.”

“We are reforging the V’kit’no’sat, small as we are, so taking another name would undercut that goal.”

“So be it. The Bez wish to rejoin the V’kit’no’sat as a whole while we deal with remaining internal problems. If we don’t, we will be picked apart. How much of the old empire can you offer?”

“The Conclave is a functional body, but has no decision making power. I alone hold that during the transition. If you can trust me…and I can avoid getting killed…we will piece this together as we go working off the original empire’s model.”

“You hold full power?”

“That’s why I have been given these,” the Era’tran said, igniting his talons again.

“Do the Era’tran answer to you?”

“We function as a team, and this is my role. I do not hold operational command over my race any more than I would over yours. Itaru was never meant to micromanage.”

“Something that was forgotten in recent millennia. Will this Conclave handle economic reunification?”

“It already is.”

“And what about joint fleets? You are fielding one out of necessity, but will we reestablish the standing ones? Who is handling the Terraxis issue now?”

“Itaru is still leading that one, though the Oso’lon and J’gar are mostly out of the equation.”

“Leading or feeding?”

“I am told it is mostly independent. Itaru is not micromanaging and I do not think it could now. We all want answers as to who is responsible for this treason, and for that reason there is a unified fleet.”

“Are you involved with that?”

“I am not. The Era’tran are.”

“Is your reforged empire going to be?”

“No. We do not have the resources to spare. My task is to save as much of the empire as I can. Others will deal with Terraxis, but if you wish to contribute I presume you will be allowed.”

“We have ships to conserve as well, and our greater priority would be the Hadarak border. We have had to pull back 90% of our fleet there to try and slow the I’rar’et. If you can return some stability, we will send some of them back, but not all.”

“I will hold to you that,” Mak’to’ran promised. “The various factions out there are not united, and those that have allegiances are too consumed with smaller predations than to mess with me and the Era’tran. If and when the Hjar’at are able to reunite, I do not see anyone taking us on without some type of rejoining happening to oppose us.”

“How much of a risk is that?”

“Now, almost zero. Given time that may alter as factions fall and others gain power.”

“Or until the Oso’lon and J’gar decide to get into the mix?”

“They are busy holding the Hadarak back, but they cannot shoulder that burden alone indefinitely.”

“They can withdraw those fleets quickly if they wanted. Do not assume they are pinned there.”

“They are by the weight of the responsibility,” Mak’to’ran pointed out.

“If they are traitors…”

“They do not want to have to take back worlds from the Hadarak, traitor or no.”

“What would they care if they had Hadarak of their own? Do not assume they will act wisely. There are so many examples of stupidity amongst those who were thought to be wise to allow yourself to be so deluded.”

“They are on the border because we asked them to. They hold the line while I reforge the empire. That is the loose agreement we have come to.”

“You are allied with them both?” Renni said disbelievingly.

“We have an understanding, not an alliance. They know that suspicion taints both of them, so they cannot lead, but they can fight the Hadarak and having their fleets distant and taking losses diminished the threat they pose.”

“And if you succeed?”

“Then I will command a unified fleet powerful enough to overthrow them both if necessary. They both want their innocence proven, but until we can discover who the traitors are this is the best path forward for them.”

“The idea of them taking orders rather than giving them is too ironic to process.”

“They are still giving orders to their allies,” Mak’to’ran added. “Their influence isn’t gone, but they can’t use their power as a rallying point. They’re boxed in and have to rely on surrogates who are also suspect because of that relationship. I am not, and they have found that I can be negotiated with. I tasted the treason first hand and I do not want the innocent blamed for it. I want the real traitors found and culled.”

“At the minimum,” Renni said, stretching his neck skyward for a moment. “There are many details to iron out, but in principle will you accept us or are we too large a burden to bear this early? I cannot make an announcement and have it fall through. If we make this move, it has to stick.”

“We are in a position to make use of it, and my allied fleet is larger than I have let be publically known. We will get the I’rar’et off you and the Ter’nat, and you will join our assault forces afterward.”

Renni looked to his two companions, engaging in a private telepathic communication.

“Accepted. We hereby request full membership in the reborn V’kit’no’sat under your leadership.”

“I acknowledge your request and immediately confirm. You are returned to the V’kit’no’sat as of this moment, with subsequent integration negotiations forthcoming. Tu’vo will remain here and handle the remainder of those after I depart. I presume you can keep him alive?”

“We will. Tell me, did you anticipate this request?”

“Partially. I did not expect this level of interaction, but it is welcome.”

“Sav,” Renni said with mock scorn. “Any chance you’ll be sharing that one?”

“Perhaps for individuals.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you smart bastard.”

“That are worthy…” he added, drawing a sneer from his friend.

8

February 3, 3644

Ennixo System (Ter’nat Refuge)

Stellar Orbit

Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha arrived in the system at the head of a fully Era’tran fleet, some 218 ships in total and most of them on the larger side, immediately sending a stand down message to the I’rar’et ships popping up on sensors. There were over 500 of them, but most were small and more than two thirds were cargo vessels. There were no Ter’nat vessels, for they weren’t permitted any. There were 7 inhabited planets in Ennixo and what little traffic there was between them was accomplished by V’kit’no’sat overseers, but what ships Mak’to’ran would have expected to be here from different races were gone. Only I’rar’et remained, meaning they had run off all others and were harvesting Zen’zat for themselves…and training them to be loyal to the I’rar’et alone.

That could not be permitted, and he was grateful that the Era’tran had allotted him command rather than sending someone else to lead their fleet. It put an end to any question of whether or not Mak’to’ran’s ‘rebellion’ was sponsored by the Era’tran, but most suspected anyway and Itaru was not in a position to do anything about it anymore. They were busy trying to hold on to their most valuable systems without ticking off too many factions for fear of them turning against them en mass, which was beginning to happen with this faction of the I’rar’et.

Messing with the Ter’nat was unacceptable and was uniting many to oppose the Praetaro faction, including the other I’rar’et. What they’d done had crossed a line and incensed everyone in the local regions, but even after having several reclaimed from them the Praetaro were not backing down in the other Ter’nat systems and now he saw why.

They weren’t just taking custody of the Ter’nat worlds and claiming the Zen’zat that they produced for themselves, for there was no way so many cargo ships would be needed. Zen’zat level individuals were rare amongst Ter’nat and exited their worlds at a trickle, meaning this many vessels here at once were removing more than just Zen’zat…they were taking Ter’nat away too, and Mak’to’ran knew instantly that they were trying to get enough to start their own private Ter’nat colonies where the rest of the V’kit’no’sat would not see when the ones they’d claimed were retaken in short order.

“Not one of those ships leaves this system,” he ordered his fleet. “Disable only for the transports. Kill the warships if they do not submit.”

A slew of mental commands to his command deck staff followed, with them organizing and dispersing the fleet off to their individual targets. Some of the ships stayed in stellar orbit to intercept any fleeing vessels, but most of them jumped out to all 7 planets while demanding the I’rar’et stand down.

Some of them did, and they were not fired upon, but boarding parties comprised mostly of Zen’zat were dispatched and the I’rar’et crews disposed under the threat of destruction if they did not comply. The other I’rar’et ships tried to flee with their cargo ships and the Era’tran forced a fight in multiple locations, focusing on disabling the cargo ships and picking them off one at a time until the last few made it to stellar orbit and ran into the waiting forces there.

None made it out of the system, but a few of the warships did. Two of them did not, sticking around too long in the exchange of fire and having their gravity drives destroyed. When they continued fighting Mak’to’ran let them be torn apart until no more weapons were functioning, then he called a halt to the carnage in the hope of retrieving some of their Zen’zat. They would tell Mak’to’ran what they knew, or where to get that information, for there hadn’t been time to replace them with new recruits and their oaths of loyalty were to the V’kit’no’sat, not the I’rar’et, and no amount of loyalty to that race would cause them to stand in the way of maintaining the Ter’nat as they were supposed to be.

Recovery teams were sent out to those wrecked ships and a few I’rar’et were recovered in addition to several hundred Zen’zat. The smaller techs and warriors knew how to hide during battle, whereas the flyers stupidly clung to the air that was easily vented. Mak’to’ran didn’t like fighting any of the V’kit’no’sat races, but the loss of these I’rar’et he didn’t regret. Tampering with the Ter’nat was a treason that only the insane would have considered attempting in the past, but with the fracturing of the empire it seemed that the boldness of traitors was at an all-time high.

Technically he also belonged in that group because of his illicit psionics, though the difference was that what he was doing was for the V’kit’no’sat, not for personal or racial greed, but that fact underlined how much had changed in the empire so fast. It also imparted the depth of wisdom that Hamob possessed. He had foreseen most of this coming, and while Mak’to’ran hadn’t had cause to use his new psionics much, just having them as backup was a comfort.

He had to survive, now more than ever, and Hamob had known that from the beginning.

When the captured Zen’zat from both surrendering and destroyed ships arrived onboard another Era’tran Kafcha, Mak’to’ran transferred over to it and met the thousands of them in the same room. They’d been disarmed, but that much Lachka would still be a problem if they worked together…but that wasn’t going to happen here. Era’tran had initially created the Zen’zat and cared for them more than any other race, and when he entered the otherwise empty hangar bay the Zen’zat moved aside to clear his path as much out of respect as it was prudence, for if he stepped on one that would be enough to kill them outside their armor.

“The faction of the I’rar’et that you have been serving has committed treason. They have interfered with the Ter’nat and I am here to remedy this betrayal as others are doing so across the galaxy. I have learned that the I’rar’et have been taking Ter’nat away from their refuges. I need to locate where they have gone and the ship databases have been purged. Tell me what you know.”

Bewoll System, one of the Zen’zat answered telepathically.

“What is at Bewoll?” he asked, but no one answered.

“Have any of you been there?”

Again, no answer.

“How many shipping runs have been made?”

This was to be the first to Bewoll, another Zen’zat answered. We do not know what is there, but it was labeled as a Zen’zat facility.

“How are those boarding the cargo ships being selected? There are too many for traditional methods.”

Volunteers.

Mak’to’ran huffed in disgust. Zen’zat were not volunteers, they had to prove their merit and those that did not wish it would never train hard enough to even approach qualifying. To ‘volunteer’ meant standards were not being followed.

“Why did you stay with the I’rar’et? I put out a call to all Zen’zat to join the new V’kit’no’sat. We are rebuilding what was lost, and your oaths require you to assist the V’kit’no’sat over any racial loyalties.”

There was a chorus of telepathic responses, most of which were saying they never received his call. A few others claimed that their freedom of movement was being restricted, though they didn’t know why.

“The truth has been kept from you, little Zen’zat. The empire has fallen, and I have been tasked to rebuild it. The Hadarak border has been all but abandoned, but the Oso’lon and J’gar have moved the mass of their fleets there to hold it. Distrust of them is high, but I do not believe they could all be corrupted. For the moment they are behaving as V’kit’no’sat should. We were created to fight the Hadarak, not each other, and while they hold the line I am leading what some have called a ‘rebellion’ made up of individuals, ships, and systems that have abandoned racial loyalties and wish to reestablish the empire.”

“I have been receiving many Zen’zat from across the galaxy. Apparently the I’rar’et are blocking communications so you could not hear the messages. Itaru is no longer the functional capitol. A small system named Vviot in Fi’ti territory is and a Conclave has been established. One day we will reclaim Itaru, but for now we must operate in reliable territory. There are many traitors about, some in ideology rather than deeds, and they lay in wait to ambush the loyal. Assassinations are occurring across the galaxy and I have been leading my fleets to purge individual systems of them.”

“This is not a culling, for these individuals must be drawn out to be identified, and it is a hard, sloppy war but one that we are winning. With every system we gain, a piece of stability returns. The full Era’tran race is allied with us, and the fleet I brought here is from them. I stand alone as leader of the new V’kit’no’sat during this transitional period, and we have a long fight ahead of us to reforge the empire. I require your assistance and your knowledge of what the I’rar’et have done. If they are trying to create a private refuge to recruit Zen’zat from, it cannot be allowed. A Zen’zat’s loyalty is to the V’kit’no’sat. One that is trained and oath taken to the I’rar’et alone is an abomination.”

“I do not want to have to hunt down and kill those who should have been our brothers. It is our responsibility to see that they are trained properly, and I need information in order to do so. Tell me everything you know of Bewoll and anything else you think could possibly be of use.”

What of Terraxis? one of the Zen’zat asked.

“We have reclaimed it, but the mystery of who their sponsor is remains. We cannot wait to discover it before reforging the empire…but that is my burden to bear, not yours. Give me your knowledge, your strength, and your loyalty as you swore to do the day you became Zen’zat. Do your duty and I shall do mine. Confirm,” he said, sending out a telepathic prompt that the Zen’zat were trained with.

They responded, and with his Sav-enhanced mind he was able to count and assure that they all had communicated an affirmation. They were loyal Zen’zat, and he would not waste time worrying if one or more were plants. So far he hadn’t discovered any arrogant Zen’zat, and if there ever was such a thing the loyal Zen’zat would deal with it.

“You are prisoners no more and are hereby assigned to the Era’tran fleet,” he said, mentally triggering one of the interior hangar doors to open. “Go. Log everything you know of the I’rar’et and what they have done with the Ter’nat, then retrieve your armor. There has been too much division amongst us. Loyalty is what binds the V’kit’no’sat together, and I will not question yours further.”

Mak’to’ran spun and exited through another door as the Zen’zat moved en mass, but before he left they combined their telepathic power and issued a cheer…one that was both encouragement and gratitude. The Zen’zat wanted the empire united, but more than that they were excited. They now had a path forward in which to honor their oaths. Zen’zat didn’t lead, V’kit’no’sat races did, but above them Itaru led them all. Now, by his own admission, Mak’to’ran had become Itaru…and the Zen’zat had just accepted that wholeheartedly.

The captured I’rar’et were not so agreeable, even those that had chosen to surrender, and they had to be hauled out of the system as prisoners along with those on the Ter’nat planets. A few Era’tran ships were left behind to take over their duties and word was sent out through the Urrtren that this system was back in V’kit’no’sat hands…but Mak’to’ran’s V’kit’no’sat. Those who were members of it would have access to the Zen’zat it produced, but others would not.

That wasn’t accepted well, but there were so many Ter’nat systems that the few Mak’to’ran had reclaimed for the empire were not a significant number. Others where the I’rar’et had been removed by different factions were returned to ‘shared’ status in order to avoid drawing the ire against whoever had freed them. No one came after Mak’to’ran’s newly claimed Ter’nat refuges though, due largely to the fact that many races were involved and with both the Era’tran and part of the Hjar’at in allegiance, the few systems he’d laid claim to weren’t worth fighting over just yet.

If a few factions rose to dominance that might change at some point, but right now everyone was looking out for themselves and the I’rar’et picking off Ter’nat refuges was a threat to all. So long as Mak’to’ran didn’t move to claim more than what he was taking back from the I’rar’et he wasn’t going to get challenged on it…but Mak’to’ran was going to start claiming more, though on a timetable that didn’t shock anyone else into reflexive action and in sectors where he was consolidating power. Races might be spread across the galaxy, but his new V’kit’no’sat were starting to own little pockets of territory here and there and the forthcoming invasions were going to start filling in the gaps regardless of whether or not those systems requested his intervention.

There were loyalists everywhere, often having to hide their true allegiance to avoid drawing the wrath of others, so when Mak’to’ran began conquering individual systems and building up to even small factions he had a hostile population to contend with…but one that came with a buried core of support that was able to finally manifest itself. That, combined with an influx of loyalists of the same race from other portions of the reborn V’kit’no’sat, was enough to marginally put these worlds under his control, and once that was secured, as he had seen on other worlds, stability would increase as assassins bled themselves out and the promise of the V’kit’no’sat was slowly restored.

Mak’to’ran was not suspected of the treason of Terraxis, and after dissidents began to see that he was honoring the true V’kit’no’sat ways, albeit with a few new wrinkles, their ire lessened and with the growing discord across the galaxy they began to become loyalists again, if only out of necessity, as they watched the great empire they’d worked so long and hard to build get whittled down further and further in what was still the Stun Wars, for the most part, and that reluctance to move into a full civil war was all that was keeping the old empire from ravaging itself in short order.

9

June 13, 3644

Bewoll System (Unclaimed territory)

Stellar Orbit

Mak’to’ran’s Era’tran fleet arrived in what had previously not been a V’kit’no’sat system, but with the breakdown of the empire it appeared at least this faction of I’rar’et was violating the territorial restrictions. They weren’t advertising it, for once queried the Urrtren relay, which was obviously a new construction, wouldn’t give Mak’to’ran full access. Particularly the geographical functions. As far as the data network was concerned this location didn’t exist, but the standard news updates were still flowing through.

The local feeds were shut off, but still transmitting. Apparently the I’rar’et had locked them so only their ships could access the local data net…which was another violation, but after what they’d done with the Ter’nat Mak’to’ran was learning not to be surprised. This was just more evidence that the empire was dead, for even the smallest of these violations would have incurred severe penalty in the past.

Now, if any order was to be restored, it was up to him and the Era’tran.

He looked down at his talons, realizing the depth of truth in that. The Oso’lon and J’gar had given themselves psionics that others didn’t possess, and he realized that was somewhat appropriate when you had to lead. Now that he was in their position he had a different point of view and found himself in partial agreement…but not on the cheating of races who deserved them. Giving yourself a few extras was one thing, but preventing others from having what they needed was unacceptable no matter how elevated a race or individual became.

They have gone astray, but I will not, Mak’to’ran promised himself. Hamob didn’t give himself all three psionics because he didn’t need them. I do because I am on the front lines where reality acts as calibration. Perceptions may be skewed from a safe vantage point, and Hamob knows this. Those who direct from afar must guard against such biases forming, but fortunately I do not have that problem nor will I so long as I lead from the front. Others can handle the support and coordination duties...and Hamob probably chose me in part because of my preference for going directly into the action rather than trying to solve problems from afar.

I am glad he does, especially regarding those problems he foresees into the future, but that is not my path. I truly am handpicked for this burden, and if I am to carry it I cannot hold to Itaru’s restrictions any longer. I must take what works and build on it, but I cannot be hesitant any longer out of loyalty to what we once had. The empire is dead, and I am the one that must rebuild it. Help I will have, but I have to lead. Hamob knows this, he always knew it, but it was something I had to learn for myself and now I have. So what does this change?

Mak’to’ran contemplated that as his fleet continued to come out of the unguarded jumppoint. The few I’rar’et ships in the system were clustered around a single inhabited planet, though there were four other planetoids that were also of agreeable climate for the Ter’nat. They obviously hadn’t had time to build up the system, but this would make for a decent refuge if allowed to develop.

Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to allow that…or should he?

If Itaru was to be forgotten, then he had the power to sanction whatever he wanted, including territorial expansions. Up until now he had kept everyone in his alliance within the old protocols for fear of things devolving without a common and familiar set of standards to use, but was that wise now that he’d gained some small stability?

Mak’to’ran realized he had a lot of assumptions to think through, but if this system was already on the Urrtren and housing at least some Ter’nat, why not just keep it after they took it from the I’rar’et? It could be the first Ter’nat expansion he authorized and would serve as a visible example of how he was now in command and not Itaru.

His first inclination was to send a message to Hamob, but that wasn’t really necessary. The elder Era’tran had said they’d honor whatever actions he took, so the decision was his and what was the point of destroying or abandoning what the I’rar’et had built here? Might as well put it to use.

Mak’to’ran updated his orders to the fleet, instructing them to preserve as much infrastructure as possible in addition to recovering the Ter’nat. They were not traitors, but merely cargo that did not have a choice in where they were taken. They held no responsibility for the I’rar’et’s actions, but the Zen’zat here were another matter. They should know better, if properly trained, which meant there might be a few of them that were not properly trained at this point. Rather than destroying them, Mak’to’ran intended to retrain them. For the I’rar’et…well, he’d see how many actually surrendered. Hopefully there wouldn’t be many.

When his fleet was fully assembled and accompanied by a few extra Zen’zat-only ships obtained from defections to his alliance, it made its microjump to the inhabited planet and immediately ordered a stand down for the I’rar’et ships. All but three heeded that demand, with those running hard and fast to get back to the star. Seeing their positioning and speed he let them go, for his primary objective was reclaiming the Ter’nat intact.

Now that he was in orbit he was getting a lot more data on the surface infrastructure. There was a single defense shield covering a small portion of the planet and a pair of anti-orbital batteries that were also powered up. Both of them opened fire on Mak’to’ran’s fleet, drawing no response as the warship’s shields simply absorbed the incoming fire.

“Do not make me question your intelligence,” Mak’to’ran transmitted to those on the surface. “Your defenses are pathetic. Stand down and you need not be killed. Turn over all Ter’nat and Zen’zat intact and I will allow all I’rar’et to leave the system onboard one of your ships after interrogation. I have no need for taking prisoners and do not want to bother unless necessary. If I have to fight you, that will change…assuming you live. Cease fire, lower your shields, and prepare for an orderly handover of infrastructure,” he said almost casually.

The firing continued, forcing one of his ships to climb to a higher orbit before its shields were breached, but once it went out of range the planetary gunners apparently saw the futility in their defense their weaponry fell silent. A few minutes later the defense shields dropped and several I’rar’et in different locations signaled that they would comply.

With a thought Mak’to’ran sent the order to dispatch the landing teams. First went the Zen’zat gunships, then drop pods with even more and a few Era’tran commanders as he observed from orbit. When a landing zone was secured he left the command deck and headed down in his own drop pod, wanting to inspect what the I’rar’et had been building personally.

He walked out in full armor, not bothering to transmit a false ID signature. Ter’nat were no threat and all the I’rar’et and their Zen’zat had been collected and confined in this area as well as all of their aerial ships having been confiscated across the planet by advance strike teams. Mak’to’ran was in no danger, so he began to roam around the holding pens where the Ter’nat were being held in tiny cells, some 5-8 individuals in each.

They looked underfed, and with a quick comm he confirmed that there were large stockpiles of foodstuffs still in cargo crates in warehouses and some on landing pads that hadn’t yet been moved. It seemed that this planet was understaffed and the I’rar’et were shoving Ter’nat here faster than the infrastructure and staff were ready to handle…probably in response to Mak’to’ran’s retaking of the refuges.

The Era’tran moved on, finding the inhabited areas where traditional Ter’nat structures, albeit small ones, had been erected and inside of which millions were moving about apparently unaware of their ownership change. The I’rar’et probably hadn’t announced anything to them other than the move order and Mak’to’ran confirmed that as he telepathically interrogated dozens of them without their knowledge. They did not have the Ikrid blocks that the Zen’zat did and their minds were so simple he could handle multiple ones simultaneously, finding that they knew nothing at all save for when they had come here.

Most within the past 3 months, and when they’d arrived the city had only been partially constructed. Now there was a fully functioning one and multiple expansions, inside of which Ter’nat life continued as it normally did…slow, pointless, and self-absorbed. The various competitions used to select Zen’zat were only in limited effect, and no simulated wars had begun yet.

The latter served two purposes, the first being to give combat experience so the V’kit’no’sat could assess their skills, with the second being an impromptu military available if a Ter’nat world was ever invaded. Such things didn’t happen anymore but there was always that threat, and even though they were just Ter’nat they were part of the empire and needed to be able to defend themselves or at least help their custodians defend them in an emergency situation.

Ter’nat did have stockpiles of small arms, aerial craft, and very basic versions of Zen’zat armor. Era’tran didn’t consider any of that to be a problem, and on some more advanced Ter’nat worlds there were even training missions led by Zen’zat offworld to deal with tiny threats outside the empire that would normally not rise to the V’kit’no’sat’s level. Ter’nat couldn’t leave the refuges without escort and rarely ever did even then, but while most Ter’nat were lazy and maintained only for their ability to reproduce, there was some small amount of sophistication in their societies…most of which did not appear to be present on this planet as of yet.

Mak’to’ran was going to have to arrange for that, and quickly. If Ter’nat were left to their own motivations they would devolve into a chaotic mess. Overseers had to be present to handle leadership, and with proper training the Ter’nat could carry out orders, but in previous tests the Era’tran had done with allowing the pathetic race to lead itself they had failed spectacularly.

When an individual was located and deemed to have potential they were elevated into a different tier then allowed to stay there or progress forward based on merit, resulting in a very select few at the highest level that were looked at to potentially be Zen’zat…but they had to undergo additional training and testing before proving themselves worthy, though field experience greatly shortened their path to being accepted.

When they were accepted, the scrawny Ter’nat were altered, both physically and mentally, as they gained muscle mass, mental upgrades similar to Sav but in a much more primitive fashion, and many other alterations just to compensate for their race’s weaknesses even before the size and sense enhancements were applied. The end result was a different race. Zen’zat were not Ter’nat, they were something else meticulously created individual by individual, and without all the preparation and sifting beforehand, the physical and mental enhancements were wasted. Ter’nat had potential…the Era’tran had seen it long ago…but only in the best their race had to offer after heavy modification.

The Ter’nat race, en mass, was next to useless and simply grouping them together and letting them reproduce was not enough, and from what Mak’to’ran was seeing here the I’rar’et did not fully understand what they were trying to do. They may have assisted on refuges across the galaxy, but apparently they hadn’t learned from the experience. They were replicating some aspects here but skimping heavily, and the Era’tran knew from a long history of experimenting with Ter’nat that that was a quick route to failure.

The amount of competent Zen’zat any Ter’nat colony produced was a result of the care and attention applied to the population. It was not an automatic process.

Mak’to’ran sighed, which sounded like a long slow growl that spooked the Ter’nat nearby as he walked down one of their narrow streets…too narrow. It was alright for the Ter’nat, but not for Era’tran. The I’rar’et didn’t intend for any Era’tran to be here so they’d apparently altered the standard architectural protocols to accommodate themselves. That was something that would have to be rectified, but Mak’to’ran still thought it would be more economical to fix this planet than abandon it.

As he roamed and inspected with growing distaste at how the I’rar’et had botched this colony from the start, his mind wandered to the Humans. There had been a lot of information recovered about their civilization and their population was most definitely not Zen’zat…but they weren’t Ter’nat either. No experiments had ever been done with upgrading the base Ter’nat population, and the Era’tran had been very interested in how they operated and particularly in their history of development. Files concerning that had been shared with Mak’to’ran, and after reading through most of them to date he knew that there were still more questions than answers.

He knew that they’d require a functioning colony in order to do the necessary tests, but what they had learned so far was interesting. The Humans were still pathetic and the Archons that rose out of their unorganized mess were the equivalent of Zen’zat, though in even lesser numbers. That was probably due to the fact that there was a very high level of self-determination within Star Force uncoupled from guidance. Freedom was necessary to determine those who wished to be Zen’zat, but while a Ter’nat couldn’t be forced into that path, for loyalty couldn’t be programmed, they did need a heavy hand directing them at all times prior to their ascension…at which point their true training would begin and they’d take their place as servants of the empire.

For a long moment Mak’to’ran considered his own new sanctioning ability and the possibility about sending an expedition to capture some of the Humans so he could start a Human colony in order for comparison testing against the Ter’nat, but he sadly dismissed that valuable research because even touching a Human without intent to kill would be construed by many as tarnishing his reputation with the stench of the treason he was currently immune from.

A pity, for the V’kit’no’sat could learn much from this heresy. Perhaps these Humans could produce identical Zen’zat at higher rates, which would require less colonies for the empire to maintain.

But there was no empire now, and if such a project was to be undertaken he could not do so while jeopardizing his ability to reforge the V’kit’no’sat. Yet another reason to hate the arrogant, for they were costing the empire yet one more potential advantage. A united V’kit’no’sat could wade through the treason and salvage some benefit from it, but with the distrust that had fractured the empire Mak’to’ran couldn’t act so boldly. He mission was to reforge, not expand, and this potential line of expansion would be counterproductive. If it had been compatible he would have sent ships immediately, for he needed all the advantages he could get for his growing splinter of an empire, but sadly this was not the case with the Humans.

These Ter’nat, however, he could salvage and the Urrtren relay itself was a significant piece of infrastructure. He’d lay claim to it all, but it would take more than a combat fleet to right this. Mak’to’ran was going to have to assemble a full renovation team and he didn’t have a lot of those resources that weren’t currently being used…but he did have allies and the Era’tran were the ones that still took a majority stake in the guidance of the Ter’nat. He knew they’d respond with as many personnel and resources as needed to handle this…and he didn’t need to ask for Itaru’s approval.

Mak’to’ran realized he was going to be using his sanctioning ability quite a bit going forward, and now that he’d gotten over that mental hurdle and disconnected with Itaru’s standards entirely, a galaxy full of opportunity and pitfalls expanded in his mind. He wandered around the Ter’nat colony for hours, inspecting it as his mind was distant. When he finally returned he had settled on numerous new courses of action, accepting that his new V’kit’no’sat would either keep up with the changes or splinter apart in self-destruction…but if they were to be true V’kit’no’sat they would rise to the challenge, and if not then they deserved to never recover what they once had.

The dominant did not make excuses. The dominant made things work, and if his alliance was truly to become the V’kit’no’sat once again then being conservative was inappropriate. Experimenting with the Humans would be overreach at this point, but if he was going to lead the V’kit’no’sat through this catastrophe and back to their mantle of stewardship over the galaxy, he couldn’t be beholden to the memory of the past.

Mak’to’ran was the V’kit’no’sat now, and he needed to start acting like it.

10

January 1, 3645

Vviot System (V’kit’no’sat temporary capitol)

Conclave Barkod

“We have done well thus far,” Mak’to’ran said to the full assembly of diplomats and the highest ranking bureaucrats in the Conclave main audience chamber, currently sealed off from the rest of the station for the duration of this address, “and the recent inclusion of the Seon faction of the Brat’mar has given us a badly needed increase in strength in the Ollokon Sector. This Conclave is functioning properly, without discord and working for the mutual benefit of all. This is how the V’kit’no’sat are meant to be, but there is still one glaring absence here that I am going to rectify.”

“We are V’kit’no’sat. Our empire was created to do the impossible…fight and one day destroy the Hadarak, cleansing the galaxy of their plague and saving countless races from extermination. More than that, they are destroying worlds with the inability to replace them. For all our knowledge and longevity, we have not seen the creation of new planets save for on a few occasions, and those have been the collision of smaller objects into a communal gravity well or the densification of nebula to the point of spherification.”

“Likewise we do not know the origin of stars beyond a similar process. What occurs when the hydrogen has fused and the stellar radiation disappears? We’ve seen it happen in isolated systems, but what about galaxy-wide? We have not found a cyclical process of rejuvenation, but rather a very long life cycle without an apparent origin. If planets are being destroyed we do not get new ones to replace them. If races are eradicated, we do not get new ones rising up on dead worlds. The origin of life and of this galaxy is a mystery, and only a fool would assume that such things are in a natural balance that will right itself.”

“Left unchecked, the Hadarak consumed worlds across half the galaxy before we rose to counter them. We do not know if that was the length of their maximum expansion or if they would have spread everywhere if given enough time. Our fortune was the density of planets and races in the galaxy, for the Hadarak could not consume them quickly. Likewise, existing races have the ability to advance, adapt, and branch out, creating spurs and with help transition to other worlds. How long has it been since we acquitted that responsibility?”

“The answer is very long, because we are not taking back worlds from the Hadarak. We are not taking the shattered remains of broken planets and fusing them into new worlds. We have held the current line. We have maintained…when did we cease to be conquerors and become curators?”

“In order to counter the Hadarak we must advance, adapt, and grow. We must become their true counter or this galaxy is doomed. No one else has the strength to cull them, let alone destroy them, and the larger their numbers grow the faster they spawn. You know this if you’ve been trained appropriately, so why has it been forgotten? Why have things of lesser importance taken priority? The Hadarak are our primary foe, and right now the Oso’lon and J’gar are expending huge amounts of resources to hold them at bay while the rest of the former V’kit’no’sat races play power games. We here, now, are not strong enough to hold the Hadarak back and defend ourselves against our wayward brothers or we would be doing so, but when will that change?”

“It will change when this conflict has come to an end, and to do that we have to keep fighting and hope the two founding races can hold on long enough. Suspicions of treason aside, they are doing their duty. We must grow strong enough to aid them, and we cannot do so if we hold to the maintenance policies of Itaru. Up until now we’ve had other concerns to worry about, and our population and system control is small compared to the whole of the empire, but we are no longer fringe. We are no longer rebels. We have legitimacy, and the more V’kit’no’sat we are the more our wayward brothers will remember their duty.”

“But there is one function we have not been utilizing, and I am correcting that now. Our races have been hindered with growth restrictions, both in terms of population and territory. Though it will invoke the ire of others, I do not care. It is time to return to being true V’kit’no’sat, and until the Hadarak are defeated we should not even think of putting restrictions on our growth.”

“That said, we cannot get sloppy and misuse the resources we have. Nor can we wildly go running around the galaxy grabbing as many worlds as possible or reproducing faster than we have resources to cover. Given that I am the temporary leader of the V’kit’no’sat, I am hereby using my authority to alter current territorial quotas and population restrictions. Those who prove themselves worthy with the resources they have will be granted permission for limited expansion. If used appropriately more will follow. I am NOT granting unlimited expansion rights. The Conclave will still regulate such matters, but not to suppress. It will regulate in order to organize our growth in the most efficient and effective means possible.”

“We are V’kit’no’sat, we should not fear strength. We should not fear numbers. We need both, as much as we can get, and as fast as possible to reinforce the Oso’lon and J’gar…and if we are able to do so we will not stop there. We will grow as large as necessary to defeat the Hadarak, impossible as that task may be. Why we ever stopped trying I do not understand, but I can assume the arrogant were involved in that hindering. Many of our people will die in the fighting to come, both against our brothers and the Hadarak, but we knew and accepted this from the moment we were hatched or born. We do not waste our lives, but doing our duty is more important than simply living…for if we fail, the galaxy and everyone in it is likely to die.”

“Death before dishonor. Death before stagnation. Death before weakness. We are strength incarnate, and we will remember it again. If we are not worthy and we all die, then so be it! We are V’kit’no’sat. We hide from nothing. We adapt, we train, we learn, we grow, and one day we will destroy the Hadarak or die trying. There is no middle ground. Each race committed itself to this course when membership was granted. Each Zen’zat commits to this when they are ascended. Oaths cannot be rescinded. This is our duty. This is our path. Those who stray from it are beyond contempt and will be destroyed.”

“Many of you are younger than I, and perhaps you were not taught properly. That will be remedied shortly. I will do my duty and lead the V’kit’no’sat as is proper. You will remember or learn the way of the V’kit’no’sat or you will be replaced by others who adjust more quickly. This Conclave cannot be lax, it cannot be hesitant, it cannot be focused on ‘maintaining’ while the inner core of the galaxy continues to burn as the Hadarak feed. There are still races in there that have yet to be attacked. Our complacency imperils them. We have to push against the Hadarak, and push hard. The more of them we can kill the less they will be able to resist. We must force them back to their black holes and imprison them there while we discover a means of terminating them. Waiting and holding the line is unacceptable, and had Itaru been doing its job we never would have had this stagnation settle upon us.”

“You will shake it off now, and effective immediately the following systems are to be claimed and construction began by each race represented in this Conclave,” Mak’to’ran said, mentally signaling the appropriate data to be displayed to each terminal. “One system for each, with more to follow as appropriate. It is sad to say that a single system is an expansion, but we have forgotten what real expansion is like and must learn again. Do well with each of your assignments and you will earn more.”

“Simultaneously we will also begin expanding Ter’nat refuges. We need more Zen’zat. Many more. They are soldiers, and techs, and medics, and whatever else we need them to be, but they are not personal servants. They have a place in this empire, but they can only do their duty when we do ours. They do not lead, we do, and if we are leading properly many of them will die. They must be replaced and doing so is far more complicated than hatching more Era’tran or Sevn’orr. Ter’nat are an investment made that will reap Zen’zat later, and it is an investment we will be making heavily now.”

“We will also be acquiring current Ter’nat refuges when able, but even if we were to recover them all it would not be enough. The entire V’kit’no’sat population must increase by a factor of 10 at minimum.”

That number shocked all those here, for Mak’to’ran wasn’t referring to their newly reforged V’kit’no’sat, he was referring to the total of the former empire.

“Why does that set you aback?” he rebuked, looking around the large chamber. “Why do you see it as unreasonable? It will be a long and arduous expansion, but what is new about that? When the V’kit’no’sat began we were less than 1% of what we were just a few decades ago. Who said our growth had to plateau? Who said we could rise no further? And why have you succumbed to their madness? We will grow, and while other races may die because of botched expansion, we have no fear of that so long as we do our duty. This Conclave will design, detail, and coordinate appropriate expansion profiles that I will sanction…and when we start behaving as V’kit’no’sat are supposed to be, we will end this civil war and get back to fighting the Hadarak as we are meant to do.”

“In the short term we may draw unwanted attention due to the expansion. Many still believe Itaru rules, or that their former edicts should at least be adhered to. Let us dispel that myth here and now, not by being reckless or greedy, but by doing the job they failed to do. Leadership is about more than one person, but I will bear this responsibility alone until we can reassemble more of our former strength. You will assist me as you have been, and I will continually increase what is being asked of you.”

“Make no mistake. We are the only hope for the V’kit’no’sat and the galaxy. We must prove our worth, and we must not hold back. We have a duty to do, and we will not be shy in doing so going forward. It is also sad when doing our duty will draw our former brothers against us, but so be it. Death before dishonor, and if they wish to stand against us and hobble our ability to fight the Hadarak then they are traitors and will be dealt with accordingly.”

“That does not mean we are wasting time fighting them if they do not seek combat with us. Itaru has poisoned the trust that held us together, and it will take evidence of competence and loyalty to our mission to win back many of those that have been betrayed. We will grant them time to do this, and only fight those who strike at us and imperil the acquittal of our duty. We will not become petty, squabbling over position. V’kit’no’sat have no ego. We are dominant because it is self-evident. We need no awards or recognition. The galaxy need not even know we exist, for they are irrelevant. Our fight is with the Hadarak and any who stand in the way of that fight. The rest are not our concern.”

With that Mak’to’ran left the center pedestal and began to walk out, leaving the Conclave to conduct its business as he returned to his, but the telepathic activity in the room spiked as an affirmation chant began. To those with only ears there was silence, but to the V’kit’no’sat granted with the mental powers due their position, every single person in the chamber began shouting in rhythmic chant…a very old chant seldom used now…and one that affirmed their allegiance and the righteousness of their cause.

The word V’kit’no’sat meant ‘Hunter of Hadarak’ and for the first time in many millennia, in this infantile Conclave, it returned to its true definition and true purpose. They would be the hunters again, but before they could acquit that duty they had to rebuild their strength…and hope the allegiance and might of the Oso’lon and J’gar held out until the V’kit’no’sat were ready to return to holy battle once again.

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1

January 3, 3668

Vviot System (V’kit’no’sat temporary capitol)

Stellar Orbit

Tew’chor’s ship was small compared to those guarding the system that he entered, for he only had a Wur’ki and the Les’i’kron vessel was only 3.2 miles long and narrower than most V’kit’no’sat racial designs. All Les’i’kron ships had a snake-like look that split into two offshoot branches at the fore, giving the design four points in total with the ‘tail’ stretching far to the back with a curve that put the highest point in the center top with the points slightly angling down. It was an intimidating sight, but Wur’ki vessels were mere skirmishers and not the heavy hitters that were patrolling stellar orbit upon his unannounced arrival.

He was alone on the ship, with only a few dozen Zen’zat that he’d taken with him when he’d left the Itaru-controlled region, which now was the second most powerful out of the 38 factions that had more or less stabilized. Mak’to’ran’s declared reforged V’kit’no’sat were a much weaker 4th, but from what Tew’chor had seen through the propaganda circulating through what used to be the united empire, only Mak’to’ran’s faction was actually trying to put it back together. Everyone else was more interested in taking their piece of the banquet table and securing it rather than ensuring that all were fed. Many were stealing from others to inflate themselves, and propaganda only went so far with individuals as old as Tew’chor.

He was a 19th generation Les’i’kron, born after the reconfiguration that history said little about. Whatever had been their old civilization was gone now, replaced by their current one that was solidly with Itaru. The Les’i’kron had not fractured much, and the splintered pieces barely amassed a tenth of their population, with the mass being firmly in league with Itaru. Plans were being made to recover the others, in one form or another, but no one was interested in costly wars that would open them up to aggression from others, so now that all the weaker systems and factions had been swept up there was only a nibbling here and there over a few contended systems…save for Mak’to’ran’s forces that were actively fighting the Had’so faction that was a combination of 5 different races headed by a sizeable chunk of the Manso.

But that wasn’t why Tew’chor was here. To date no Les’i’kron had joined the reforged V’kit’no’sat, and he wasn’t sent as a negotiator or representative. He had come without permission on his own mission, being the Prefect of a world in the Baypen System. His world was part of the Non-Aligned Confederation, which was now the largest and most powerful faction in the old empire. They wanted no war, but had banded together for mutual protection and after several nasty fights the other factions had learned not to mess with them, for it didn’t matter what races were involved, all of the NAC systems knew that if they didn’t cover for each other they’d be picked apart…and once it was shown that they could successfully defend themselves their numbers had grown to amass 18% of the former empire.

But there was no unity, with self-preservation being the only bond that held them. What had been the V’kit’no’sat was no more, and as each year passed that fact became more and more a reality as various factions explored the new opportunities it afforded. For Tew’chor that meant a choice. Sit and wait as he had done throughout his life until Itaru found a way to reclaim his planet and fully reunite the Les’i’kron under their rule, or take the limited freedom he had now and seek out someone who might have an answer for him to the question that had been haunting him since his hatching.

When his Wur’ki entered the system it wasn’t attacked, but it was met and questioned by the patrol ships. After a brief explanation he was granted access to the Conclave and went onboard without any Zen’zat escort, riding over in a drop pod then walking out onto the hangar deck with his golden scales drawing immediate attention. He walked on all four legs, his wings tucked up tight to his body as his neck stretched out in front of him. Shorter than an Oso’lon but longer than most of the V’kit’no’sat races, he swung it left and right along with his blocky head as he looked around, seeing odd glances from the Zen’zat that were present in the bay.

The same curious looks kept occurring in the other races he passed by as he made his way through the Barkod-class station. No one said a word to him, verbally or telepathic, but given his size that was almost the equal of some other races’ Ultras, he took up a lot of space and his coloration made him hard not to look at. Very few Les’i’kron were gold, and those that were had been around for a very long time. It was something in their genetic code that altered their coloration at various times in their life, but as far as Tew’chor had researched no one knew why.

That was not the question he was here to get an answer to, though it was emblematic of the holes in their civilization that were conspicuously ignored and ever since his scale color had altered he’d been treated with a respect that no one could give him an explanation for. It was simply a natural reaction that begged further inquiry…yet the Les’i’kron were not interested in pursuing such things.

“Speak, Les’i’kron,” a Brat’mar in the Conclave said when Tew’chor walked into their chamber.

“I have a request,” he said, taking the guest podium at the center and walking in a circle that spiraled his tail around his front legs as he laid down but with his neck craning up.

“Make it.”

“I wish to speak with Mak’to’ran.”

“Concerning what?” the Era’tran representative asked.

“It is a matter that could hold great importance…or possibly be irrelevant, but it is something that I will only speak with him about.”

“He is not here presently.”

“Then tell me where he is and I will travel to him, or I will wait here until he returns.”

“Why should he be bothered by you?” a Kar’ka asked.

Tew’chor rotated his neck around and glared at the smaller V’kit’no’sat, who visibly twitched by the threat contained in it, though the Saroto’kanse’vam on Tew’chor’s tail did not light. Les’i’kron were not the equal of the Oso’lon or J’gar, but no other V’kit’no’sat race outranked them and in combat Les’i’kron had a reputation for being able to fight the land dwellers on the ground, let alone their all too lethal air strikes. Only the Hjar’at’s battle roll was more feared, and if given an opportunity a Les’i’kron could kill an Oso’lon with a single, well placed tail strike.

“Because I ask it,” Tew’chor said simply.

“You come as an individual?” the Era’tran asked.

“Indeed I do.”

“I will relay your request to him immediately, but I cannot guarantee a reaction.”

“That will be sufficient.”

“Is there anything the Non-Aligned Confederation wish to discuss with us?”

“They care not for you so long as you do not move against them. Beyond that there is no faction, only disconjointed crumbs of an empire.”

“Which we are attempting to reunify,” an Ari’tat noted.

“My mission here concerns something greater. Until it is dealt with, do not discus unity with me.”

“What is greater than the unity of the empire?” the Brat’mar asked, suspicious.

Tew’chor stared the three-horned quadruped in the face across a fair distance, but telepathically they exchanged a few sizing pokes that had them interacting on even footing.

“Potential treason.”

7 weeks later…

“Les’i’kron,” Mak’to’ran said as the maroon-skinned Era’tran walked into the private audience chamber on the Conclave after returning from his field work.

“Era’tran,” Tew’chor replied, standing and facing the taller biped with his neck rising enough that they could see each other eye to eye.

“What treason do you bring me?”

“I bring you a mystery that you must not reveal or my life may be forfeit.”

“You have my silence…barring breaches of honor. Speak.”

“You have Saroto’kanse’vam?”

Mak’to’ran answered by flaring his glowing red talons.

Tew’chor raised his double bladed tail spines off the floor then ignited them, drawing an odd look from the Era’tran.

“They are white. I thought they were the same color as the Hjar’at.”

“They’re supposed to be. Mine changed with my last scale shift. No one could give me an answer as to why, and I was discouraged from pressing our geneticists for an answer.”

“Discouraged by whom?”

“Everyone. Les’i’kron society has black spots where no one will look, and when someone stumbles into one there is an almost autonomic reaction. It is too repetitive and relentless to be cultural. I have found no variation in it…save for myself. I was born different. I do not know how. I have had to hide that truth my entire life and learn to avoid the black spots. I fear if I lingered in one too long they would kill me without hesitation. Something is wrong with the Les’i’kron, and I suspect it has to do with the reformation after the culling. There are almost no records from before that time and no living members. Not one. And I cannot find evidence of there ever being any. It’s as if the Les’i’kron did not exist beyond a certain point and our ancestors were but a figment of imagination.”

“What is your specific request?”

“You have gained the knowledge to grant yourself Saroto’kanse’vam. You are also trying to restore the V’kit’no’sat while others are showing nothing but greed. I am loyal to the V’kit’no’sat, and have had to tolerate lesser thinking in the Les’i’kron. The way they are is not an advantage nor does it serve our purpose. It is a hindrance, and I fear there may be a genetic inhibitor of some type. I have come to you to ask for a genetic analysis of myself to compare against other Les’i’kron. My mind is free, theirs is not, and I have never been able to determine why. I fear there is some form of treachery involved, or it could be my imagination…yet I’m willing to risk my death to discover what it is. I hope that will underscore the importance of my request.”

“Tell me more of these ‘black’ areas in the Les’i’kron.”

“They are both perspective and cultural. Taboos would be the antiquated word, yet such a thing would leave individual variations. I have discovered none beyond myself, even in the slightest way. There are questions that will not be asked. Answers that are ignored. A focus on something that I do not share. Our entire civilization is bent on something…but I do not possess that something and have had to fake it in order to survive. I have discussed the matter with the Zen’zat, and they have backed up some of my suspicions, but they do not have the mental strength to breach one of our minds.”

“You have?”

“On three fortuitous occasions. Their minds were rigid in identical fashion. Constrained.”

“Define ‘fortuitous.’”

“Two were dying, the third was…distracted. I could not do a deep scan, but their surface thoughts were varied save for certain areas. At least in comparison with myself.”

“Show me.”

Tew’chor opened his memories and telepathically transmitted them to Mak’to’ran, with the two engaging in a prolonged, silent exchange that left the Era’tran more confused than before. He’d never had contact with a Les’i’kron mind, but he could have swore Tew’chor possessed Sav…though he knew he didn’t.

“I have had little contact with your race, so I am not one to judge, but your mind is more complex than I imagined. Far more…yet far less.”

“Meaning what?”

“I was born during the culling and fought in some of the last combat.”

“Are we different than our ancestors?”

“They did not have Saroto’kanse’vam.”

Tew’chor frowned heavily, with his eye ridges moving far forward on his elongated head.

“Why would we be given an advancement after a culling? We have had Saroto’kanse’vam as far back as there are records.”

“History has been altered, and only those of us who lived through the events know the truth. Your claims are…curious. Let us take a scan and see what we can find. We can do so in the Era’tran portion of the Barkod where we can keep this silent.”

“Lead on.”

The scan came back clean, no anomalies noted, until the Era’tran scientists began digging a little deeper. Tew’chor was fully functional. No damage or malfunctions of any kind, but the way in which he was built was different than standard Les’i’kron. He had denser brain tissue and a few other deviations from Les’i’kron norms, but nothing wrong with him. In fact he was better, brain wise, and showing neural activity that was halfway between Sav and no Sav.

Mak’to’ran asked his geneticists to confirm whether or not the psionic was present and the answer they returned was that some aspects of Les’i’kron genetics were not visible to them. They possessed the most intricate and dense genetics and to date and even the combined knowledge of the V’kit’no’sat hadn’t been able to fathom it all, though they speculated that whatever the source of these deviations were was sourced in those unknown areas.

But as to the question of Sav…this Les’i’kron did have it, yet he didn’t. That wasn’t possible as far as Mak’to’ran knew, for his Sav had been part of him since his hatching. Era’tran had their Ikrid locked down until they earned it, but in order for their minds to advance appropriately Sav was simply part of their base coding. Mak’to’ran had never not had it, though in the case of Zen’zat a few had made the transition. Their upgrading occurred with detectable patterned enhancements that were easy to spot, yet this Les’i’kron had none. It was almost as if an alternative Sav had been created following different protocols…which in and of itself was perplexing.

So Mak’to’ran went about testing Tew’chor with mental drills, trying to confirm whether or not he had Sav from the experiential side…but even that showed mixed results. He was not as quick as he should be in some areas, yet far faster than possible in others. After several days of testing Mak’to’ran could not get an answer, and the more his geneticists dug into the coding the more inconsistencies arose.

Mak’to’ran had other business to attend to with the Conclave, so he let his people work the problem up until he was ready to leave again on another mission…but after reading their assembled report he postponed it indefinitely, for this Les’i’kron was truly an anomaly. His surface genetic code was fully Les’i’kron, the type used for identification and security purposes, but the finer details of it were not quite right. Mak’to’ran thought he might have an answer for that, but if his guess was right it would open up a far greater issue…and one that he alone could not handle, no matter what confidence Hamob and the Era’tran had placed in him.

Mak’to’ran hadn’t known the Zak’de’ron long enough before their destruction, and given the historical deletions that had occurred since then, only one who lived through those times could offer proper perspective on this riddle.

But as Tew’chor had suspected, this could also be treason. Itaru treason, if it was what Mak’to’ran suspected, and a treason that many other races already knew about. The Zak’de’ron had been altered after the culling in order to create the Les’i’kron, but perhaps the depth of that alteration had never been fully explored…and if what Hamob had told him about the complexity of Zak’de’ron genetics was true, then there were possibly parts of Les’i’kron coding that were at work within Tew’chor that no one had seen before.

And without any Zak’de’ron around to ask, the next best option was to take the Les’i’kron to those who had altered them…possibly erroneously…or to those who were seeking to attain the level of advancement that the Zak’de’ron had previously attained.

To that end, Mak’to’ran sent a vague message to Hamob through the Urrtren along with the unmarked genetic scan under heavy encryption, then he took Tew’chor onboard his Kafcha and departed for the Era’tran homeworld of Holloi to get to the bottom of what Mak’to’ran suspected was a combination of past treachery and Itaru meddling with genetic codes that they could not fully comprehend.

2

March 13, 3668

Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

Holloi

When Mak’to’ran arrived at the planet he did not take a drop pod down to the surface, rather he transferred over to one of the 38 defense columns where the Yaern’ek operated. They were the visible management of the Era’tran civilization that interacted with all other races and kept the day to day operations functioning smoothly while leaders like Hamob dealt with problem solving from the shadows. Most Era’tran understood this, but when you had something that needed to get done you went to the Yaern’ek, and if they couldn’t handle it they would know which of the elders to direct you too.

Hamob had instructed him to come here, for they were not going to let a Les’i’kron onto the surface of Holloi even if he could handle the gravity, so Mak’to’ran personally escorted Tew’chor onto the massive orbital station over 700 miles long that held plenty of internal space for the Yaern’ek and many others to go about the business of running the Era’tran civilization while Holloi was spared that hectic existence.

The presence of a Les’i’kron wasn’t a first here, for there were ambassadors from the other races still present in the defense columns, but not in this one. Column #17 had no diplomatic sections so the entire population consisted of Era’tran and Zen’zat save for an occasional skilled visitor helping with some project…which was what Tew’chor was labeled as.

There was no conflict with bringing him onboard, but the large dragon pacing behind Mak’to’ran definitely drew attention moving through the corridors and internal Satu. Only a few telepathically asked Mak’to’ran what was going on, to which he replied that they were conducting a genetic study. They seemed to accept that, though it was well known that nearly all Les’i’kron were ardent supporters of the Itaru faction.

But then again, the Era’tran still controlled territory in Itaru without having any loyalty to the arrogant, so the current disposition of the V’kit’no’sat wasn’t something that could be accurately divvied up by regions on a starmap.

Eventually the pair came to a secured section of the station and were passed through by a waiting guard. They entered through an aperture that quickly sealed, leaving them both in an audience chamber where six other Era’tran stood in a ring, one of which was Hamob, and four who wore the ornamental clothing of the Yaern’ek. The other was not recognizable to Mak’to’ran, but he sensed a powerful mind behind the unfamiliar visage.

“Speak Les’i’kron,” one of the Yaern’ek said amicably.

“I come here seeking answers. I do not have a statement to make.”

“Answers to what questions?”

“Has something been done to the Les’i’kron and why am I immune to it?”

“If you claim immunity that assumes an answer to your first question.”

“Let me clarify. Did the V’kit’no’sat do something to the Les’i’kron following the culling to make us less rebellious?”

“Yes,” the non-Yaern’ek that Mak’to’ran did not recognize said plainly.

“That is a violation.”

“Also yes,” Hamob added.

“Then why was it allowed?”

“There are things about the pre-culling era that you are not aware of that warranted…some would say,” Hamob amended, “…the measures taken. What have you observed concerning yourself that has allowed you to identify this?”

“My mind is free to question areas of content that are unconsciously restricted for the others. I have not encountered any deviation in the content nor a single individual who did not behave in an identical matter to certain stimuli. Variation of norms would not allow for this, thus some form of forced alignment must be in play.”

“Logical,” the other Era’tran agreed. “What have you done to investigate this?”

“I have searched for anomalies within myself and found none. Experiential evidence says there is a difference, genetic analysis does not concur, and I do not believe this to be a Core issue. I alone cannot be so different than all the others.”

“And what did the others have to say of this?”

“I sensed danger in response to the taboo reflexes, so I could not go into depth. Even light entries into the subject matter produced strong reactions, enough to allow me to map them, but I could get no assistance from anyone. I had to hide my curiosity in order to function within Les’i’kron society, for my brothers are blind to certain things. Their unrelenting protection of that blindness suggests coercion of some sort. What can you tell me of what has been done?”

“When the Les’i’kron were culled,” a Yaern’ek began…

“Stop,” Hamob insisted. “Let us not repeat the lies here.”

“As you wish. When the Zak’de’ron were annihilated, the V’kit’no’sat did not want to suffer the loss of our most powerful aerial race, thus the Les’i’kron were an allowance that let your race survive and retake it’s proper place within the empire…though a lesser one than it formerly had. Penance, but it allowed you to live when the Zak’de’ron deserved to die for what they’d done.”

“And what of our minds?”

“Your race was diminished in mental capacity, but also given Saroto’kanse’vam in compensation.”

“Diminished how?”

“Unknown. The Oso’lon and J’gar handled your rework.”

“But we intend to find out now,” the other elder said. “Step into the chamber.”

Out of the center of the room a medical station emerged from the floor into which the large Les’i’kron walked inside.  The light cage had numerous holograms activate that gave the assembled Era’tran information regarding Tew’chor’s medical data as an analysis of his genetic code began once he made physical contact with the machinery.

Who is he? Mak’to’ran asked Hamob.

Pavon.

He recognized the name as being one of the Era’tran’s leading scientists, but one that was almost never seen in public. Very old and mysterious, but one cited for many advancements while being too busy with other work to bother taking credit for them. Definitely a shadow leader, Mak’to’ran knew little about him.

“Your neural activity is not Les’i’kron standard,” Pavon eventually noted. “Yet your brain structure is.”

“How is that possible?” a Yaern’ek asked.

“Software,” Hamob answered, also digging through the data. “An inhibitor?”

“I believe so,” Pavon agreed. “And a crude one. Our technology is beyond this now. They must not have updated the changes.”

“Sloppy,” Hamob decreed.

“If there have been no other instances they probably didn’t think there was a need.”

“There hasn’t been a rebellion of even the smallest kind within the Les’i’kron since the rework,” a Yaern’ek added.

“Here,” Hamob said, highlighting a segment of coding that Mak’to’ran did not understand the significance of. “They never even tried to alter them.”

“Probably afraid of systemic consequences,” Pavon agreed, picking up on the discovery and making several holographic adjustments to what Hamob had shown him. “The Zak’de’ron coding is too advanced, so they contained it…and that containment is only partially present in this one. Compare.”

Another brain scan popped up and highlighted next to Tew’chor’s. They were nearly identical, but there was an undercurrent in the stats that, when isolated, were traced back to genetic code that created the basic mental software that a mind operated off of…and bits of Tew’chor’s was missing.

“Only the rework?” Hamob asked.

“Yes. Everything else is intact. I do not know how this could have occurred.”

“Have you ever sustained significant injury?” Hamob asked.

“On four occasions.”

“Detail them.”

“Severed tail, parasite infection, radiative poisoning, and kinetic trauma.”

“Which was the earliest?” Pavon asked.

“The kinetic trauma. The other three were suffered during combat with the Hadarak on different occasions.”

“Davur?” Mak’to’ran asked, referencing the infection.

“Yes. The pain it entails is beyond explanation.”

“Few have survived it.”

“Irrelevant,” Pavon noted as he continued to work using a series of holographic buttons and a lot of telekinetic input mixed with a direct neural interface. “How young was the kinetic trauma?”

“2.4 years.”

Everyone looked at Tew’chor in dismay, for at that age he would still have been in a hatchery and they were among the most guarded locations in any race’s civilization.

“Explain the circumstances,” Hamob said, keenly interested.

“There was an explosion. 204 of us were killed, 1093 injured or recoverable. I was one briefly dead.”

“What kind of injury specifically?”

“I don’t know. A wall blew out into us and I was thrown with the debris against another wall. I only know that from holographic replay. I have no memory of the incident.”

“What was the cause of the explosion?” the Yaern’ek asked.

“We were not told.”

“Power conduit failure,” another Yaern’ek said, having just pulled up the file from the Urrtren, as everyone gave that a skeptical look.

“A cover up?” Hamob floated.

“Possibly,” the Yaern’ek admitted.

“Genetic,” Pavon said after a long pause. “Look at their profiles.”

The genetic coding of the individuals killed in that blast were arrayed in a floating clusters around the chamber and over Mak’to’ran’s head, but he couldn’t pick anything out of them as the technical genius of those assembled here far outweighed his own.

“Generic modifications off a premade template,” a Yaern’ek agreed, “to hide their true identities.”

“Not identities, composition,” Pavon insisted. “He is too old.”

“Meaning what?”

“There was not natural reproduction until the 48th generation.”

“That is not true,” Tew’chor corrected. “I am 19th generation and I reproduced multiple times prior to the 48th.”

“Those hatchlings were replaced in the egg stage. Your offspring were killed before they developed.”

The Les’i’kron hissed, with all 7 Era’tran reactively flinching as they looked in his direction.

“We don’t know everything,” Hamob explained, “but we have learned that the rework of your race was a gradual one. Individuals could be created, but reproductive combinations had complications. It took 48 generations for them to work the problem out.”

“They killed our hatchlings?” he all but spat. “For what purpose?”

“Unknown,” Pavon answered, but Hamob wasn’t content with that answer.

“It is speculated that they couldn’t maintain the suppression on your genetic code, and the power of the Zak’de’ron resurfacing was too great a threat to risk.”

“A threat to who?”

“The V’kit’no’sat.”

“If we were completely culled, what threat could we pose?”

“The Zak’de’ron were superior to all the V’kit’no’sat races,” Hamob said bluntly. “They attained technological, biological, and intellectual levels we have yet to catch up with.”

“This makes no sense. If the Les’i’kron are a threat, why allow us to live? What else is going on here?”

“Arrogance,” Mak’to’ran said from behind Tew’chor. “They wanted to subjugate the Zak’de’ron as a living testament to our victory. You were made to be equal,” he said with a discontented growl.

“We were told the culling was the result of us overstepping our authority and trying to splinter off in rebellion. Is this true?”

“No,” Hamob said firmly. “The Zak’de’ron created the V’kit’no’sat along with the Oso’lon and the J’gar, but your ancestors were always the dominant partner. They built virtually everything the empire has, then the empire betrayed them because they refused to become ‘equal’ with the others. It was a massive mistake that we still have not yet recovered from to this day.”

“That is debatable,” a Yaern’ek differed.

“Do not speak of things you do not know, hatchling.”

“The empire has recovered from those losses.”

“I was not speaking of combat losses. We lost the wisdom and knowledge of the Zak’de’ron that built the V’kit’no’sat. We have not come close to replacing that.”

“As you say. I was not there to witness it.”

“You’re saying that we were superior,” Tew’chor said slowly, “then forcibly primitivized after the culling and had our hatchlings murdered up until their process of suppression was perfected?”

“More or less, yes,” Hamob admitted.

The Les’i’kron’s tail spikes flared into white brilliance, then his scaly appendage curled forward like a scorpion but stopped just short of damaging the equipment surrounding him. His rage could visibly be seen on his neck muscles, but his mind was almost blank from Mak’to’ran’s point of view. Whatever emotions he was feeling he wasn’t transmitting and the Era’tran wasn’t going to try to poke his way inside to find them.

“Why?” he asked quietly. So quietly it sounded dangerous.

“Even suppressed you are powerful,” Hamob said, deactivating the holograms around him and stepping forward. “And somehow you have broken through some of the programming in your mind. How long have you noticed this difference?”

“All my life.”

“Then you were wise to hide it. If they had discovered your increased intellect, they would have killed you long ago.”

“You assume that’s why they killed my hatchmates?”

“I assume there was some noticeable problem. Ever since the Zak’de’ron were destroyed, the empire has been rewriting history to hide the truth on many things.”

“Can what has happened to me be replicated in the others?” Tew’chor asked bluntly, getting ahead of the flow of conversation.

“No,” Pavon said regretfully. “Their adult minds are fixed. Only training can alter them now, save for a total reset. Yours developed differently from the outset, and I believe it might be due to the way the Kich’a’kat repaired your body initially. The technology has been copied from what the Zak’de’ron originally gave us, and it is possible it had an effect on your body that your compressed genetic code allowed that was not anticipated. A slow, virtually invisible effect.”

With a thought Tew’chor dismissed the medical cage and it withdrew back into the floor as he spun about and paced around the chamber, his head low to the ground as he thought. His tail flicked back and forth, but it had returned to its normal state despite his obviously irritated emotions.

“The Oso’lon and the J’gar only, or were others involved?”

“Such things were not advertised, but I do not believe any other race had the genetic knowledge to accomplish this,” Hamob stated with one caveat. “However, all races were complicit in the annihilation of the Zak’de’ron. They had to be, otherwise the Zak’de’ron might have been able to win the war.”

Tew’chor’s head came up and locked eyes with the Era’tran. “We were that powerful?”

“Yes.”

“And if our current hatchlings were able to develop uninterfered we would be a threat again?”

“The genetic coding is fixed now,” Pavon explained. “Les’i’kron are not Zak’de’ron. You, in a way, are both due to an unforeseen error. There is no threat in the others anymore.”

“Because our minds have been programmed to follow the V’kit’no’sat? Itaru created a slave race, didn’t they?”

“You are not Zen’zat,” a Yaern’ek pointed out.

“Their minds are free, ours are not, so who are the slaves here? If I went back and told them all of this, they wouldn’t even care. They’d cover it up because they’ve been programmed to do so. I have been in danger all this time. If I had shown deviation I would be dead, either by the claws of the Les’i’kron or by assassins from Itaru. This is not the equality of the V’kit’no’sat that I have devoted my life to. This is treason.”

“It is,” Mak’to’ran agreed. “And a treason that has to be purged.”

“Meaning what?” a Yaern’ek asked.

“We must end the lies and be V’kit’no’sat…not imposters pretending to be so. The V’kit’no’sat created this problem, and if we are going to reforge the V’kit’no’sat we must solve it. The arrogant cannot be allowed to survive in the Les’i’kron genetic code, else it will spawn synchronicity in others.”

“We cannot alter the adult population,” Pavon warned.

“And the hatchlings?”

“Without knowing exactly what the Oso’lon and J’gar did, we could cause developmental problems.”

“Then let’s ask them,” Mak’to’ran said bluntly.

“No,” the Yaern’ek said firmly. “We do not have the resources to tackle this problem given current circumstances, and those who perpetrated this will not be interested in undoing it. We cannot let the Zak’de’ron return.”

“We cannot let mind-controlled V’kit’no’sat exist,” Mak’to’ran pushed back. “They are a threat to any who do not abide by the parameters of those who programmed them, as well as the basic fundamental of our empire. We are equals, not slaves. This cannot be allowed to continue.”

“How do we stop it?” Hamob asked.

“The hatchlings. The Les’i’kron are already divided. If we start a pure faction, in time it will grow and replace those who are tainted. When we are in a position of leverage, we can alter their offspring as well. Given time those of free mind will exceed those enslaved. Their race can be restored without the Zak’de’ron returning.”

“I cannot guarantee that,” Pavon warned. “Without knowing exactly what happened to this one, we will not be able to replicate it.”

“How are his offspring now not free?” another Yaern’ek asked.

“How recently have you spawned?” Hamob asked, referencing the egg laying procedure that only required one Zak’de’ron, but the eggs would remain dormant until another fertilized them. There were no males or females, for all Zak’de’ron were identical, and that method of reproduction in the Les’i’kron had not been altered.

“18 years.”

“Assuming your hatchings are not free of mind, then either your genetic code is passing on the suppression or it’s being implemented in the hatcheries. We need to find out which.”

“If this is occurring in the hatcheries, how would it be implemented?” Tew’chor demanded.

“Monitoring to detect anomalies,” Pavon said without hesitation, “then alteration of any who did not fit prescriptions. There would only be a rare few now, coming from those of you in the earliest generations.”

“But those in the hatcheries would have to be complicit?”

“To some extent, yes.”

“I am a Prefect. I can access all files contained on my world. If there is complicity in my hatcheries I will find it, and it must be there if my offspring are flagged.”

“Or,” Hamob said gently, “your offspring are being destroyed and replaced by others.”

“If that is occurring, there will be dead Les’i’kron adults shortly. Take what scans of me you need to continue your investigation, then I will return to probe the source.”

“It is best if you stay here,” Hamob said. “You are in danger in Les’i’kron territory.”

“I have always been. This is nothing new, save I have knowledge I previously lacked. I thank you for your assistance, but am appalled that any V’kit’no’sat race would allow this to occur to another.”

“We did not do this,” a Yaern’ek said firmly.

“But you had knowledge of it and did not tell us. You let us exist as slaves.”

“We did not know the extent of the changes beyond the physical,” Hamob said.

“And if you did, would you have informed us?”

“There would be no point.”

“No, there wouldn’t, because my race has been engineered to enslave itself,” Tew’chor said, spinning around angrily and heading for the door.

If he is truly Zak’de’ron, then he is a threat, one of the Yaern’ek said telepathically as the Les’i’kron disappeared through the doorway.

We should not fear Sav, Mak’to’ran pointed out. “Nor should we fear superiority, else we become the arrogant.”

“They were suppressed for a reason,” Pavon added. “And this one, if he finds a way to undo what has been done, could spawn another rebellion.”

“With just cause.”

“We have enough problems already,” the Yaern’ek reminded him.

“I know better than you of that fact. Tew’chor has been wronged. The V’kit’no’sat must stand clean of treachery, and burying this again will taint us. There must be a resolution.”

“By creating a splinter Les’i’kron race?” Hamob asked skeptically.

“What would you advise?”

“Offer him sanctuary, determine if there are others like him, and under no circumstances potentially unleash an angry Les’i’kron race against the empire…even if they trashed Itaru in the process. We must maintain as much as possible, even if it would hurt our opposition. Further conflict only diminishes that which we are trying to preserve.”

“And if he is determined?” Mak’to’ran asked, sensing a dark undercurrent.

“If he incites rebellion,” a Yaern’ek said, “termination should be considered.”

Mak’to’ran lit his own Saroto’kanse’vam, reminding the Yaern’ek of his rogue status.

“I cannot, and will not, reforge the V’kit’no’sat by repeating the mistakes of the past. That Les’i’kron is under my personal protection. The Era’tran will not take action against him under any circumstances without my approval. Is that clear?”

“Do not overstep your place, Mak’to’ran,” Pavon warned.

“My place is that of a rogue and the uncontested leader of the new V’kit’no’sat. If there is a way to overstep that, please enlighten me.”

“Without the backing of the Era’tran…”

“I do not need the Era’tran at this point, and the fact that you would even suggest that line of thought is…”

“We will not move against Tew’chor,” Hamob interrupted. “You have my promise.”

“Accepted,” Mak’to’ran said, still irked at the whiff of theoretical betrayal as he too turned and left the chamber, confident that Hamob’s word was good.

3

March 15, 3668

Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

Holloi

The following two days had more detailed scans taken, building on the work the Era’tran had done before the Les’i’kron had even arrived, but without an answer to the mystery of how the mental alterations had been made and how Tew’chor was immune to at least some of them, there was no urgent need for him to stay at Holloi while Pavon and other geneticists chewed through the newer scans with no promise of progress any time soon.

The next logical step, therefore, was to have Tew’chor return to his world and investigate the hatcheries there to see if alterations were still being made to the eggs. Mak’to’ran took him back to Vviot, and during the journey they discussed many things. The Era’tran shared what little he remembered from the Zak’de’ron war and the Les’i’kron told him much about their current civilization.

What Mak’to’ran had known of them was more or less accurate, but the depth of what Tew’chor told him detailed a society filled with the arrogant…but lightly so. More fearsome was their loyalty to the V’kit’no’sat and the purpose of maintaining the empire against the Hadarak and other exterior threats. They had no reason to suspect ulterior motives in the other races, with the current state of the empire being unfathomable. They did not know how to respond other than to follow the orders of Itaru. It was the heart of the empire and with everyone splitting off, staying loyal to it was all that was allowing them to hang onto their sanity.

Tew’chor led one of the few planets that had not stuck with Itaru, but that had not been his decision alone. Those Les’i’kron in the NAC were holding to their loyalty by refusing to participate in the Stun Wars unless in self-defense, which they saw as an attack by rebels against the V’kit’no’sat. The wars of conquest Itaru was waging did not sit well with them, nor did the suspicions revolving around Terraxis, and taking no action and no sides seemed to be the best expression of their loyalty.

If and when the Itaru forces made a move against his world, it was going to be a fight that none of the Les’i’kron wanted, but they would not capitulate. He doubted Itaru would send other Les’i’kron against them, for there was no way to predict what would happen then, but it was well known that Itaru wanted all Les’i’kron on their side and as Mak’to’ran learned more about them he began to understand why.

First off, they were manipulatable. There were easy avenues to influence their decision making evident in talking with even Tew’chor. He wasn’t young, but culturally he had been indoctrinated into unitization. V’kit’no’sat abhorred such things because it inhibited self-sufficiency, but the Les’i’kron had adopted a partial version that had them identifying as a group with just enough individual leeway to allow them to avoid the worst failures of pocket stagnation. Tew’chor had been living in that bit of leeway and play acting the rest his entire life to the point that he’d essentially indoctrinated himself to various cultural blind spots that Mak’to’ran knew he could use to manipulate him in the short term.

But that would sacrifice the long term, and the more Tew’chor opened up about the inner workings of the Les’i’kron it became clear that the Oso’lon and the J’gar had not created them to fill a void. They were backup if there was ever a need so great that the rest of the V’kit’no’sat could not handle it, for their training regimens were extremely limited. They were not growing strong like the Era’tran Hakja, for they were not trying. The strength they had was from minimal effort gradually accumulating over the years, physically and psionically, and that was due to the guidance from Itaru.

It wasn’t an order, but rather a recommendation that they naturally followed. If threats against the empire increased, the Les’i’kron would then likewise increase their training to compensate as was expected of proper guardians. The term ‘guardians’ was a recurring theme, indicating that the Les’i’kron were to remain passive until they had something to react to, and Mak’to’ran took that as a sign that even with all the alterations made to them Itaru still couldn’t fully control their power.

But such potential, if managed appropriately, could be construed as an asset and Mak’to’ran, with his Sav-enhanced mind, could see the leash they were wearing was adjustable. If Itaru gave them cause, they would become aggressive. If they called for restraint they would reluctantly comply, though not on a day by day basis. This was a civilization-wide attitude that could be adjusted, and if there was a big enough threat to throw them against Itaru could unleash far more power than the Les’i’kron had shown to date because they had been taught not to advance the same way the rest of the V’kit’no’sat races were.

If and when an individual or their civilization suddenly decided to take training seriously, there would be a huge and sudden improvement over the course of the following years. That was completely impractical from a tactician’s point of view, for fleet strength and a host of other things took centuries to properly build up, but if you had a long scale conflict to fight the Les’i’kron could potentially gear up and display far more power than an outside observer thought they were capable of.

Itaru hadn’t subjugated the Les’i’kron. They may have tried and failed, ultimately managing to suppress them until a situation required loosening the leash, but Mak’to’ran believed their mental bindings were meant to keep their focus away from subject matter Itaru didn’t want them considering. They couldn’t make them less than they were before, so they’d hobbled them and then genetically misdirected their focus so they wouldn’t start pulling themselves together again. Simple curiosity would have revealed much of what happened to them, but according to Tew’chor the Les’i’kron showed none within the blind spots of their civilization.

Itaru had been playing a dangerous game and it was becoming clear why they could not afford to have the Les’i’kron go rogue and potentially start charting their own course forward. They were bred to be hunters kept on a leash, and without the leash what would become of them was potentially very scary. They were not Zak’de’ron, not even close, but they were more dangerous than Mak’to’ran had ever realized.

But V’kit’no’sat were the dominant because they didn’t fear strength, so to Mak’to’ran he saw them as mistreated brothers not allowed to fulfill their potential and needing true guidance. Whether or not their mental binders could be removed did not matter, they needed help and Itaru’s leash had to be removed. Tew’chor seemed to be the bridge needed to work the problem from the inside out and Mak’to’ran made his intentions clear before returning the Les’i’kron to his ship.

Tew’chor headed back home with badly needed perspective and Mak’to’ran headed off on his next mission not bothering to stay in the capitol system for more than a few hours. What would come of this would play out in the long run with the Era’tran continuing to work on the genetic problem trying to figure out what Itaru had done to the Les’i’kron and how much of it could be undone…if desired.

Three weeks later Mak’to’ran was leading another fleet against a system that contained three racial populations. Ne’bo, Wi’jass, and Zon’tu. All were minor members of the V’kit’no’sat, but even a minor member was the equivalent of a major superpower compared to the rest of the galaxy and possessed hundreds of worlds at minimum. This system contained 5 worlds, four of which were shared and the fifth was exclusively Zon’tu and one of their regional capitols.

As such it was the Zon’tu defense fleet that accounted for most of the vessels meeting Mak’to’ran’s ships high over the planet as they fought a mobile battlefield trying to drag the invaders within range of the planetary defenses. That was not the best of situations but it was necessary, for taking the planet was the goal here and the Zon’tu had not responded to Mak’to’ran’s demands to surrender…nor had the Ne’bo and Wi’jass in the system, for all three races were part of the Bakor Alliance faction along with some small pieces of the Kar’ka and Lir’nen.

This was the first assault on the Bakor, prompted by their own assaults on two systems that had stood alone up until the previous year. Both of those were shared systems that had been dominated by the Kat’vo and had been bastions of stability and reason. They had not joined Mak’to’ran’s reforged V’kit’no’sat yet, but he had been reaching out to them and he had expected their inclusion sometime in the near future. The Bakor had struck them first, but the lack of an official alliance with Mak’to’ran made no difference to the Era’tran. The Bakor had crossed a line and now they were going to pay for it.

If Mak’to’ran could hammer them here it would increase his negotiating power elsewhere and help him to secure other systems without having to invade them, for most fighting within the empire was now lopsided affairs. No one wanted a fair fight that would grind on, so they were picking on the weak hoping to add to their holdings rather than spending them to acquire territory.

Mak’to’ran also had to consider this, but reforging the V’kit’no’sat was more complicated than just acquiring resources. It was about reforging bonds of trust, and predation of one race against another had to stop. With Mak’to’ran showing that such things would not be tolerated within his reach, other systems had been coming over to his side regularly and he would have let the Bakor keep their independence had they not hit those two Kat’vo protectorates.

The idea of the stronger races taking on the lessers also annoyed him. That was not how the dominant behaved. They would intervene if necessary, but never out of predation. Now that he had a reason to hit the Bakor he was doing so, but it was because they had shown their leaders unfit for independence. He’d replace them with others while folding them into his growing empire, but he would not strike a system without cause. Reunification was not conquest, and he would not let his growing empire drift into that as others were. Do that and his alliance would become nothing more than another faction, not the V’kit’no’sat being reborn.

The fighting to get a foothold on the surface was intense, but Mak’to’ran had brought more than enough ships to punch their way through. He didn’t lose any of them, but he did lose people on the damaged ones that he managed to escort out of the fighting. That was an impressive feat on its own, but with every ship hit his mind calculated the loss to this fleet and his overall forces. Invasions like this were necessary, but he had to be choosy about how many of them to undertake, when, where, and why. This one was justified and necessary, but attempt too many with too few ships and these small loses could turn into routs even if the mission was accomplished.

That was happening elsewhere amongst the other factions, even with the Stun Wars motif keeping a lot of people alive as they lost ships and buildings at an alarming rate. Those factions that fought less were proving to survive longer, with the trend towards defensive stability continuing to permeate V’kit’no’sat territory.

But Mak’to’ran knew that would only see factions hoarding resources until they had enough to launch a major assault against another, perhaps only a single system, but they were not going to live together peacefully given the current situation. The Stun Wars would continue on, but only days later when Mak’to’ran’s ground forces were just beginning to march their way across the Zon’tu regional capitol did he received an update through the Urrtren indicating that on the other side of the galactic core the Garas’tox were in the process of bombarding a planet of land dwelling races into oblivion.

They weren’t invading or plucking defenses from the planet of Zaoron, they were directly targeting the cities once the planetary shields were down as they were systematically annihilating the inhabitants. No stun weapons were being used and no prisoners were taken. This was an attack of pure butchery that stunned the rest of the V’kit’no’sat, Mak’to’ran included…along with the fact that the Garas’tox didn’t lay claim to the planet afterwards. There was a sizeable, habitable ocean in the southern hemisphere, making it attractive to the aquatic Garas’tox, but apparently they didn’t want it. They’d attacked to destroy the planet’s inhabitants and infrastructure, then simply left it in a state of smoking ruins as they pulled their ships out and went elsewhere.

On top of that, Zaoron was part of the Non-Aligned Confederation…but they had no planet to rescue. They had an enemy to fight, but many within the NAC had no appetite for a war of rebuttal, and that resulted in the Garas’tox essentially getting away with it.

Then it happened again, this time against a system from another faction, with the Garas’tox leaving none alive and the planets in ruins before word could spread through the Urrtren and reinforcements could arrive. The Garas’tox fleet being used was large and had enough firepower to get the destructive work done in only a few short weeks, but Mak’to’ran knew he had to be ready to respond to this if and when they hit one of his systems, which he assumed they would, given the pattern he detected after their fourth hit.

They were removing systems on certain trade routes, limiting the number of V’kit’no’sat worlds on them and giving the Garas’tox or their friends more influence there while increasing the distances others would have to travel to send reinforcements. As Mak’to’ran expected, blockades started appearing on certain routes as the Garas’tox began gaining an actual region of influence rather than holding to the scattered nature of their territory that the V’kit’no’sat had demanded of all the races previously.

Should a faction acquire possession of a region, it would make them far more formidable and the Garas’tox were not being subtle in going about their forming their own independent empire…or rather two thirds of the Garas’tox, for their race was not united in this. Thus far they hadn’t hit another aquatic and Mak’to’ran assumed that was going to continue going forward, for so far the aquatics and land dwellers had been segregated for the most part, but without the need to land ground troops to take worlds the Garas’tox could now start attacking whoever they wanted, for starships were starships and it didn’t matter what kind of race was inside, the physics of space combat and orbital bombardment remained identical.

Mak’to’ran watched over the following months, waiting for others to reciprocate, but oddly there were none…yet. The Stun Wars continued while the Garas’tox continued to move around the Neddop Region and annihilate systems at will, with the NAC not willing to mount a reprisal attack force, sticking with their defensive mandate that was totally inadequate to counter this type of strike and burn warfare.

Talk on the Urrtren, which all races were still respecting enough to leave intact, including the Garas’tox, was centered around who was going to step up and do something about this. All allegiance to the old empire was gone with these Garas’tox, and it was clear they were intent on a full breakaway and consolidation of their current power, including the evacuation of some of their smaller, far flung worlds with people and resources flowing into Neddop and two new colonies set up on worlds the V’kit’no’sat had previously not owned.

One was possessed by another race, but the Garas’tox annihilated them as well before claiming their world and guarding it with a massive fleet to discourage any intervention. Itaru refused to concern itself with a frontier region, and it wasn’t long before people were calling out for anyone to do something about the carnage.

Mak’to’ran realized it had to be him, though he wasn’t set up well for a fight against an aquatic. If he was to be the leader of the new V’kit’no’sat then it was going to fall to his new empire to deal with threats and violations such as this. If Itaru wouldn’t hold the V’kit’no’sat races to even the most minimal of restrictions then it was, in many races’ opinion, abdicating whatever authority it still possessed. When the Garas’tox withdrew from their holdings in Itaru, defaultly declaring their independence without even the courtesy of an official announcement, the arrogant did nothing but invite the other somewhat loyal Garas’tox in to replace them, thus maintaining the appearance of Itaru unity when the core of their race had packed up and left for Neddop.

At that point Mak’to’ran made his move, putting out a call for loyalists from any faction to join the culling force that he was assembling. The Garas’tox had to pay for their many crimes, and while Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to annihilate them in parody, the aquatic race’s oceans would be clouded with the blood of their treason as they were brought to heel.

4

November 15, 3669

Teqwisor System (Garas’tox territory)

Naviyo

Mak’to’ran stood onboard the command deck of his Kafcha as a mixed fleet from the reforged V’kit’no’sat hammered the planetary defenses of the Garas’tox waterworld below them. Concurrently he had 4 other smaller fleets hitting Garas’tox expansion colonies that, without massive defense fleets, would be nothing more than mop up operations. They were easy affairs if you had the fleet resources to commit to removing them, but this assault was not. Naviyo was a heavily defended world owned solely by the Garas’tox, and if this culling was going to be legitimate then Mak’to’ran had to hit them where it would hurt.

Fortunately he had one big asset in his fleet that was going to allow him to get through the planetary shields without a massive loss of ships. Irruit, the only Mach’nel the Sevn’orr possessed, was under his command. Currently, all other Mach’nel in the empire were being used to guard systems, hoarded as fixed emplacements and bargaining chips meant to entice support or leverage compliance. The threat of their power was their greatest asset…but that is not what they were meant for and Mak’to’ran was putting this one to its proper use as it blasted into Naviyo’s planetary shield with its orange Tar’vem’jic beam supplemented by the combined firepower of the fleet that had just finished pounding the Garas’tox naval defense.

The remains of it had scattered, leaving defense stations easy pickings for the Mach’nel to remove at range, but it could not take down the shields on its own. That would require more firepower, and the 18,492 warships that Mak’to’ran had assembled from 38 different races were providing that and them some, enabling him to eat through the layers of shields in short order as multiple Tar’vem’jics on the surface damaged or killed his bombarding ships quickly. Their numbers would sustain them, but his fleet was having to accept some deaths in exchange for this hammering of the shield. It wasn’t the first time Mak’to’ran had led his people to their deaths, but every time he had there was a legitimate purpose that benefited the empire…and today was no different.

His fleet knew it too, and there was no hesitation in the ship placements or rotation. Those vessels large enough to survive a Tar’vem’jic hit immediately pulled back while others would move in front of them, minimizing losses, but the smaller vessels’ shields were being punctured with ease and their usually large masses reduced to junk under the assault of Tar’vem’jic far larger than what the Mach’nel carried.

The Garas’tox had brought themselves to this carnage, and the price they were exacting on Mak’to’ran’s fleet would be repaid in blood. A culling was not a reprimand. Far from it. A culling was a very serious matter enacted as a last resort, but the outright slaughter the Garas’tox had been committing left no negotiation possible aside from their surrender and forfeiture of massive amounts of territory and resources. Mak’to’ran had offered that prior to the fighting, but as expected the Garas’tox had refused, sealing their fate, and now that he was losing ships and their crews to the planetary defenses there was no going back. They were dying to accomplish this culling, meaning he and they were committed to what had been deemed necessary for the empire.

This was as serious a matter as any, and far more important than the Stun Wars. Those had people dying for the sake of greed, but no one in Mak’to’ran’s fleet was here for that. They were here to do their duty, and when they did punch through the shield and land troops on the planet, stun weapons were not going to be used. The Garas’tox were forcing Mak’to’ran to bleed his fleet to reach the planet, and they were going to pay recompense in like manner.

But it would not be an easy fight. Breaching the shield was the most costly part of the assault, and once the final energy layer was down his fleet quickly targeted shield generators and knocked them out, ensuring that the protective barrier couldn’t be reestablished over their invasion corridor, then they hammered the Tar’vem’jic batteries that were within range. Four of them were in weak bunkers that required some pounding to eliminate, but the fifth was in a planetary defense station. Mak’to’ran did not want to assault one, but he had no choice. Every other approach to the planet held 2 or more such defense stations, making this the weakest angle of assault.

That was why the Garas’tox had added more Tar’vem’jic batteries, in order to discourage invasion from this direction, but the savvy naval commander that Mak’to’ran was knew that the additional firepower could not sustain itself after the shields went down, and whatever extra losses he took from those batteries would be lessened during the orbital bombardment to follow as they were soon eliminated leaving only the single Tar’vem’jic in the planetary defense station to deal with…along with the other weaponry it possessed, though the big gun was the primary threat due to its range.

Once the weaker Tar’vem’jic bunkers were destroyed along with some other lesser weaponry, Mak’to’ran pulled his fleet back up into high orbit and out of range of all but the single Tar’vem’jic, then the Mach’nel descended down all the way to the atmosphere. Unlike the J’gar’s egg shape, the Sevn’orr vessel was three claws coming forward and circling together until they almost touched, with the middle and upper claw being the thickest. This left an open space inside their grasp that was a void and exposed the ‘belly’ of the ship, and this design was the same for all Sevn’orr vessels, which was fortunate, for inside it and the heavy defense shields it possessed, the Mach’nel was cradling thousands of drop pods as the defense station fired upon it across the horizon at a very low angle.

The Mach’nel had rotated so its mass was between the defense station and its cradled troops, so even if the shields fell its mass would protect them. Had Mak’to’ran sent it down in any other region at least 2 defense stations would have had firing lines on it, meaning one could have targeted a gap and potentially punched through the shields. That was why he’d forced the orbital fight over this section of the planet, because it ensured his ground troops could get to the surface untouched.

Once they were below the line of sight and brushing the top of the atmosphere with the moon-sized Mach’nel, the drop pods were released along with a few warships that had come down with them. Those warships accelerated ahead and targeted smaller surface defenses, some of which were on artificial islands and others that were rising up from below the water from mobile craft or deep water spires. There was no land on the planet to put down on, so the drop pods gently hit the water and floated there…or at least that’s what it looked like. In truth they were hovering on anti-grav with their lower edge dipping into the water as V’kit’no’sat troops swam out.

Most of those troops were not aquatic, and those that were spread out in a defensive halo around them as the awkward swimmers headed for one of the artificial islands. Weaponsfire from the few warships overhead targeted Garas’tox craft below the surface, firing energy weapons into the ocean that fought against the water to reach the necessary depth. The result of each shot was a huge plume of steam of dislodged water, though the surface effect was far more impressive than the damage actually done to those below, for the ocean itself was a huge physical shield protecting most of the Garas’tox infrastructure that lay on the ocean floor or dug deep beneath it.

Then one of the warships got out in front of the swimming troops and partially submerged, taking fire from the island’s defensive weapons and giving the swimmers a blocked angle to approach from. Using its shields artfully, the naval crew created little corridors of air that the swimming troops entered and then ran through, stepping on nothing but the energy matrix as they ran up to the edge of the island whose own shields had been taken down by a single shot from the Mach’nel as it retreated back up to high orbit, for it couldn’t hold position and slug it out with a planetary defense station indefinitely.

When the troops got to the island they ran up a slight incline in the shield corridors to get to the upper lip, then they were in shallow water only a few meters deep as they trudged their way across the shallows firing on those few batteries that the warship hadn’t already toasted. Some had been held back and were popping up out of the wet deck plates to attack them, but the armored troops handled them well and pushed their way up to the next tier that was completely out of the water.

From there it was a land war against nothing but automated defenses and some Zen’zat…who wisely backtracked after doing some sniping work.

Some of the V’kit’no’sat troops continued up to higher elevation on the 32 mile wide island, but a group stopped just above the water line and began cutting through the armor. It took hours to accomplish without the help of the warship, but per Mak’to’ran’s orders they were not to overly damage the facility. The single cut they made was a narrow line transcribing an entry portal some 230 meters in diameter then the warship used a mooring beam to lift it out, releasing a gush of internal water that quickly emptied out as internal shield generators stopped the outflow.

Into the breach aquatic Dan’chey and Sevn’orr went, attacking the internal shields that were not meant to be defensive, but rather protect against water loss for the part of the island above the ocean level. The Garas’tox could not move around the interior if it was not water, so with every internal shield the V’kit’no’sat troops breached a bit more ‘land’ was created, claiming it for the invaders as the rest of the assault force claimed sections of the surface of the island for the mass of troops to be flown up to and land on now that the anti-air in specific areas had been eliminated.

The water was far more deadly, for the defenses there were not so easily destroyed, so the aquatic troops swimming around the partially submerged warship took care to cherry pick their targets in conjunction with the naval firepower as a defense force began to rise up from the ocean depths. Both craft and armored Garas’tox by the tens of thousands came at the underside of the warship as its weapons fired through the water, churning it up into a maelstrom and killing many, but the thousands of targets could not be stopped from getting to the shields.

There they used special equipment to destabilize them on contact as the troops that made it through clustered between the naval guns where they could not shoot, then when shield breaches were made they began cutting into the warship hull as it sat patiently, shooting what it could as it provided cover for the aquatic V’kit’no’sat troops to get up to the surface of the island, for none of them were purely aquatic, per Mak’to’ran’s assignments. He knew better than to fight the Garas’tox in the water on their own turf, so he was only going to hit them where they were at a disadvantage…which meant in the air.

Eventually the warship had to leave, for the air spaces in the ship were being flooded as the Garas’tox worked their way inside…then hastily fled as the ship pulled up and the water began to drain out. The Garas’tox, like all the aquatic races, could breathe oxygen through water or the open air, but as good of swimmers as they were, they were complete klutzes on land, so they abandoned the ship along with the water and dove back down into the ocean as it rose up a few dozen meters and held position there, exposing the underwater weaponry on the island to any troops still in the water…but there were none. All the V’kit’no’sat troops were now on top.

Slowly, over the course of several days, the inside of the island above the natural waterline was emptied of water leaving only the Garas’tox Zen’zat capable of fighting back and many of them did not, surrendering to the V’kit’no’sat troops citing that their oaths did not allow them to fight a non-faction, accepting the legitimacy of the new V’kit’no’sat as the reincarnation of the old and to which their loyalties were affixed, but many loyal Zen’zat had already left their factions to come over to Mak’to’ran’s forces in previous years, meaning a good portion of the Zen’zat on this planet were dedicated to the Garas’tox, but they were no match for the land forces that Mak’to’ran had sent down to the artificial island.

It was soon his…or at least the upper parts. The island stretched below water for three miles before it hit the bedrock, but with all the Zen’zat techs accompanying the troops they were able to take physical control of the environmental controls that they could not hack and began replacing the water with air until only the lowest levels remained wet. When those areas were reduced to a containable amount, the Sevn’orr went in and fought the Garas’tox and Zen’zat in the remaining water levels.

It was tough fighting, but the lowest levels could not be drained without being onsite. Mobile shield generators were used to create little pockets of air here and there that vexed the Garas’tox to no end, giving the amphibious Sevn’orr an advantage as they offered the Garas’tox surrender options then promptly killed those that did not accept, still angry at the losses that had occurred in orbit and the few deaths occurring within the island, for the Garas’tox could not be taken down without some V’kit’no’sat losses.

In the end they lost control of the island, with some 336 prisoners taken and held in a water pen made up of part of a level. The rest of the island interior was filled with air and fixed that way for when the Garas’tox got around to cutting their way inside and trying to reflood it. Meanwhile Mak’to’ran saw to securing the skies and taking out more and more defensive emplacements that showed themselves on the surface, expanding his ring of influence while monitoring the movement of the Garas’tox forces in the ocean. He wasn’t even going to try to hunt them down and force a fight, rather he was going to go after their infrastructure. If they wanted to evade capture or death, then they’d be left on a mostly useless planet.

His highest priorities were the planetary defense stations, of which there were 9 of varying sizes. All of them had their upper surfaces in the air, with most of their mass in the shallowest of water so they could sink into the bedrock for additional protection. That left the deep water areas less defended, which was where Mak’to’ran’s forces currently had their foothold, but he had to take or break those key defenses, otherwise this culling would be blunted and word of the new V’kit’no’sat’s incompetence would spread, for he hadn’t disabled the Urrtren relays and knew the entire empire would be watching from afar to see what happened here.

Taking planetary defense stations was not something V’kit’no’sat were used to doing, but there was limited experience during other cullings and both the Rit’ko’sor Rebellion and the Zak’de’ron War. Such knowledge wasn’t advertised, but older commanders like Mak’to’ran either knew from experience or had exchanged notes regarding such things. The Garas’tox had built in the shallows to reduce the amount of armor needed on the flanks, for the water wouldn’t provide much protection against heavy weaponry that would just vaporize it. It was useful against the lower power weapons, especially kinetic, but bedrock was the best natural defense and they wanted their defense stations sunk in it as much as possible.

But they also needed the tips of the defense stations above water so it didn’t interfere with their weaponsfire to orbit or the air. That meant the ‘neck’ of the defense stations below the water line also had to be coated with heavy Yeg’gor armor…though not as thick as there was up top. If Mak’to’ran could get warships in low and fire laterally he would have a better chance of blasting through to the interior, but he knew that was a fool’s errand. The was no easy way to take a planetary defense station, but on occasion there was a way to use the water to his advantage.

What he had planned was going to take a long time to implement, but if successful he would get all the planetary defense stations without losing a single ship in the assaults.

5

January 12, 3670

Teqwisor System (Garas’tox territory)

Naviyo

With the blockade of the planet holding and Mak’to’ran’s V’kit’no’sat forces dominating the air and a handful of surface locations, it looked like the Garas’tox were going to be able to hold off the assault. They were weathering it beneath the waves and just waiting for the invaders to come down to them and fight in their element, but Mak’tor’an wasn’t having that and the first major effort in this culling was looking like an embarrassing failure.

That was what little talk on the Urrtren was saying as it worked its way back to the Teqwisor System thanks to the communications lag. Those watching and commenting were noting the complete inability of Mak’to’ran’s ‘faction’ to engage the Garas’tox and enact a proper culling, as well as pointing out that he wasn’t even trying. The Era’tran knew that such statements would continue to escalate until this whole invasion became a debacle that would undercut what legitimacy his reforged V’kit’no’sat had amassed to this point, as well as his reputation as a military commander…which had already taken a hit after Terraxis.

But Mak’to’ran wasn’t worried. Appearances were not the same as reality, and what he didn’t want the Garas’tox seeing no one else would know of either, in particular the drilling teams coring through the bedrock beneath the ocean.

The island infrastructures that Mak’to’ran had attacked and seized were not random targets. The first had been a foothold on the planet to work out from, then the others had been near to but outside the weapons range of the planetary defense stations so long as you hugged the surface, for the curve of the planet protected you from the straight line firepower.

Those nearby structures reached down all the way through the ocean shallows to the seafloor as most Garas’tox buildings did, and once you got beneath the water you were once again outside the natives’ preferred fighting environment…and that’s where tunnels were being fast drilled and flooded with air pulled down from the surface all the while each bit of seized infrastructure was being covered with a sensor null field. That looked like Mak’to’ran didn’t want the Garas’tox knowing exactly what forces he had in play and where exactly they were, so the umbrella-like shroud now covered all the locations that he had taken from the Garas’tox and left a little lingering doubt in those watching as to what exactly he was planning.

Mak’to’ran kept moving out and hitting more buildings that had tops above the ocean surface, making it look like that was his agenda while avoiding the huge amount of underwater combat that would be necessary to take the planet from the 4.5 billion Garas’tox, but in truth that was little more than a distraction as the null fields hid the progress of the drilling teams until they got within close sensor range of the planetary defense stations…and all nine of them simultaneously.

That left several hours of prep time for the defenders if they noticed immediately, which Mak’to’ran was assuming, but his tunnels were so deep that none of the weaponry on the defense stations could target them. Nor could the aquatic troops do anything about it, for the V’kit’no’sat diggers were below the water and near to the molten material deep in the planet that each defense station was tapped into for supplemental power generation.

His diggers didn’t go that deep, but within 49 minutes of one another all nine teams made contact with the heavily armored hulls of the deepest third of the planetary defense stations where they did NOT have Yeg’gor protecting them. That meant his diggers could core through it with the proper equipment, which he’d supplied them with, and as soon as they made contact with the hulls Mak’to’ran gave the order for his troops on the surface of the captured islands to move down into the tunnels and begin moving towards their true targets, safe from the mass of aerial and submerged defensive weaponry the installations possessed.

The troops got to the drilling teams only minutes before they broke through, then using an environmental shield to keep the water from spilling out into the tunnel, there was a hurricane of air being pulled through the long corridor that dislodged the troops slightly as that same shield pulled the air through it and forced it into the water.

That caused chaos within for the Garas’tox troops waiting near the breach point as it was expanded out into the full width of the tunnel. When that was complete and the air was continuing to be forced inside, the V’kit’no’sat amphibious troops went in along with many elite Zen’zat, the latter of which did little fighting and made use of the chaos to slip past and out into the interior where they began locking down various areas by sabotaging surveillance equipment, defenses, and hacking into what they could…and the Oso’lon had offered some limited override codes to assist them in the culling that they had privately sanctioned. The J’gar had not, but the Oso’lon codes allowed the Zen’zat to bypass a lot of security, including some of the environmental controls that saw certain areas start draining the water out and replacing it with air from the surface.

This was happening in all the planetary defense stations simultaneously to make the most of the element of surprise, and before the Garas’tox knew it there were air footholds at the base of the defense stations where the bulk of the interior mechanisms were…and once the Zen’zat got into the heart of those they were able to take over large chunks above without even setting foot or fin there.

Entire levels were drained, leaving the Garas’tox to waddle around until they found a water level to get back into as the Sevn’orr handled most of the frontline combat. Comfortable on both land and water and with a size that made them difficult to kill, they had a workable approach that they fought hard to exploit, for the Garas’tox were not helpless even with the air bubbles racing through the watery levels. The limited fighting was intense, but because there were only a few hours of warning at best, a large amount of troops had not been able to get back inside the defense stations, for most of them had been arrayed further out nearby the invaders’ footholds.

And with the Zen’zat controlling a lot of the systems with the Oso’lon overrides, the exterior entrances had been locked down so more couldn’t keep moving inside to assist, forcing a fight between the invading V’kit’no’sat and those already inside, and the more room the invaders got the more troops were able to come in from the tunnels and expand the fighting. Even non-aquatic troops were fighting in chambers where the upper half was in air and the bottom half was in shallow water, sometimes above their heads or no higher than their knees. It wasn’t ideal for either side, but the V’kit’no’sat were determined and the Garas’tox were taken offguard so fast that they weren’t able to effectively organize against the speed of the takeover, for they did not understand the nature of the hacking.

Override codes were not something that were flagged as intrusive, and with the water rushing out so fast they didn’t have a lot of time to think. Mak’to’ran’s forces kept them reacting and running as he monitored from high orbit through the defense stations’ own comm systems that his Zen’zat now had access to. They transmitted encrypted status reports that others couldn’t quickly decipher and he replied in the same, troubleshooting where necessary and overall pleased with the professionality and vigor his new V’kit’no’sat were hammering away at the Garas’tox with. They believed in the cause they were fighting for and their unity was evident as they did not operate as separate races. They fought as one integrated whole that the V’kit’no’sat were meant to be.

And when they fought in such a manner, no one was going to be able to stop them.

The attacks took no more than 6 hours in total, and at the end a few of the Garas’tox surrendered but 98% of them did not and were killed in the assaults…but none were revived. Cullings were meant to be bloody and this one was no exception. You either submitted to the penalties or you died, and all nine planetary defense stations were pushing bloody, gore-filled water out into the ocean as they were converted to fully air-breathing.

The infrastructure inside didn’t fit that in all cases, but there were some levels for the Zen’zat that had already contained air up near the top and planetary defense stations were by necessity capable of holding all the various races. These had been biased towards aquatics, but not all areas were designed for them initially, though they had been converted for water later. When those conversions were undone and the aquatic areas drained save for a select few used as prisons, the defense stations once again became a bastion of V’kit’no’sat dominance rather than home to only one race.

And within a single day, the embarrassing inability of Mak’to’ran’s ‘faction’ to effectively fight the Garas’tox suddenly transformed into a complete reversal and one of the most stunning defeats an aquatic race had ever suffered against land dwellers. Reaction to it through the Urrtren would not reach the system for weeks, but the Garas’tox on the planet were completely dumbfounded. One moment they were holding not one, but nine planetary defense stations that were going to bleed Mak’to’ran’s forces to even take one of them, and now Mak’to’ran had claimed them all taking no naval losses and only a handful of infantry casualties.

But Mak’to’ran wasn’t waiting until the rest of the galaxy saw what happened, and as soon as he reinforced the planetary defense stations and secured them all, he brought his fleet in close to the planet, down through the existing breach in the planetary shields, and had them begin firing on targets across the planet with the Mach’nel coming down to duel with a few more Tar’vem’jic batteries…but without the planetary defense stations in support it now ruled the sky and soon the water, for Mak’to’ran transmitted a destruction schedule to the Garas’tox, demanding that the cities beneath the waves either surrender or evacuate by the given times. If they did neither he didn’t care, for he was going to destroy them whether they were inhabited or not.

Many of the ships in his fleet could fire down through the water in the shallows and hit targets on the seafloor with adequate effectiveness, though defense shields beneath would last a long time with all the water that was being vaporized and thus bleeding off energy above them, but even that did little to stop the V’kit’no’sat as multiple warships would come in over an area and use their shields to pull back the water over their targets with bits spilling in on the edges where the barriers did not perfectly meet the ground. That little water vaporized as the weaponsfire came down nearly unstopped and hit the now dry targets beneath.

In the deeper water that wasn’t so easy, and there were some city defenses that could shoot back up and damage his warships if they hovered nearby, so he didn’t bother to risk them like that. Rather, he had the Mach’nel park overhead in orbit and use its Tar’vem’jic to fire on the deep water targets with its beam cutting straight through the water with plenty of energy left over to destroy whatever was beneath.

At first the Garas’tox did not evacuate, and Mak’to’ran didn’t hesitate to fulfill his threat. He attacked and pounded the first cities until there was little left but rubble that the ocean water quickly cooled and buried as the V’kit’no’sat ships moved on to the next on their list with several groups operating simultaneously in addition to the Mach’nel. Within the first week 130 million Garas’tox were killed, then they did begin evacuating en mass out to open water as they watched their cities get blasted from above. The planetary defense stations that were meant to prevent a disaster like this were silent and now in enemy hands, leaving them nothing to do but flee or surrender.

The surrenders didn’t start to occur until more than half of the planet’s infrastructure was junk over a month later, and even then they only occurred in small groups that began to realize that without adequate food production the masses of Garas’tox in the open water would eventually starve to death. Those cities that did surrender were required to evacuate while some of Mak’to’ran’s people came down and took possession, reconfiguring security and some hardware to give them actual possession, then select Garas’tox were let back into begin working specific infrastructure and to start emergency deconstruction of areas that would be reconfigured into food production and other basic necessities.

The highly industrial and elegant planet was being reduced to a survival project and the Garas’tox knew it, which was why they were the ones working furiously to make the changes in order to keep their people alive in the coming years until this culling was complete, for until it was the system would be under blockade with no promised help coming…and the invaders had stated plainly that they were not going to provide anything that the Garas’tox lost because of their refusal to surrender.

Yet most of them still did refuse and the bombardment continued with the moon-sized Mach’nel drilling down deep into the bedrock to destroy the cities there. None were safe save for a few very deep mining facilities and those were later assaulted via troops when needed, leaving most of the planet wrecked without the massive aquatic war that the Garas’tox had expected.

When defeating a superior enemy, often the key to victory is in not letting them fight in the manner of their choosing…which in this case was in the water, and Mak’to’ran was making exquisitely good use of his in-close naval bombardment to circumvent that now that the planetary defense stations were no longer a deterrent.

Other worlds would learn from what he had done and prepare, so he didn’t expect such an easy time assaulting other planetary defense stations, but the key was to always get them via surface combat if possible and avoid the losses that a naval assault would entail. How he would deal with them in the coming months he would decide with each and every invasion, but for right now this total overrun of Naviyo was sending a chilling effect throughout the empire for anyone considering following the Garas’tox’s example. Mak’to’ran’s ‘faction’ was no longer referred to as such amongst many others following this first planetary cull, with growing numbers picking up the V’kit’no’sat label when referring to them from then on.

Most did not, but more planets and even a couple of smaller factions decided to abandon their independence and sought out the new V’kit’no’sat capitol for terms of reunification…which were not so simple with the various races having splintered and the arrogant still running rampant on many worlds. Still, negotiating was preferable to fighting and Mak’to’ran had a large and growing Conclave to handle such things as he continued the effort to reforge the V’kit’no’sat on all fronts.

The mop up work his other fleets were doing was coming along well, but he wasn’t going to sanction a culling attack against a serious target without his personal leadership. His new V’kit’no’sat were still too young for that, and given that he was the single point drawing everyone together meant his presence carried extra weight, now even more so after this jaw dropping planetary culling, so once the last of the Garas’tox cities here yielded to the threats or weaponsfire he left a small blockade force in place as more of his ships arrived to replace his warfleet. They were here as overseers and managers now while also to enforce the blockade, but his mainline ships were not going to sit here wastefully. There were assigned to him from other factions to fight, and fight they would so long as the Garas’tox would not yield.

Two days before he left with the fleet he got a message from the Conclave. Not from the representatives there but from his personal staff regarding a matter discovered via the Urrtren. A warship carrying Tew’chor had left his world enroute to the new V’kit’no’sat capitol to consult with Mak’to’ran again…but it had not arrived. Upon review of records, one of the Urrtren relays had captured a distress signal from the ship as it passed through and was attacked.

The Les’i’kron vessel was destroyed, with Mak’to’ran able to watch only a little bit of telemetry due to the jamming that had been in effect, but enough of a beacon pulse had gotten through during the navigational evasion to identify the attacking ship by class. It was a Dak’bri and far larger than the Les’i’kron Wur’ki that Tew’chor had been on. Mak’to’ran was slightly surprised that the Wur’ki couldn’t evade the attacking ship, for engine wise the basic blueprints had them at nearly the same speed, but the kill was confirmed and transmitted via the Urrtren and the Les’i’kron were both protesting and threatening the new V’kit’no’sat for the betrayal.

For the Dak’bri that had attacked, while unidentified as to the exact ship, was clearly identified by the blip of sensor records that got through the jamming as an Era’tran vessel.

Cold rage built within Mak’to’ran that did not subside as he withdrew from the Garas’tox world and traveled with his fleet back to a staging system where he left them refurbishment and rotational orders while he made a detour at top speed heading back to the Era’tran capitol of Holloi without bothering to send a message to Hamob.

This was something he and his advanced psionics were going to have to deal with in person.

6

May 14, 3670

Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

Holloi

When Mak’to’ran arrived at the planet he confirmed Hamob’s location and sent only a single message informing him that he was coming down and needed to speak with him in person. He didn’t listen for any reply and ignored the Era’tran security patrols when he put his drop pod down directly on Hamob’s front door, then exited the boarding ramp and felt the elder Era’tran’s mind in his own.

The jewelry-like armor he wore deployed, covering his entire body as Mak’to’ran activated a seldom-used jamming system that blocked Hamob’s Ikrid along with his own, blinding his telepathy but neutralizing the powerful mind from disabling him. On approach an entrance manifested itself and led him straight inside, sealing behind him as Mak’to’ran came within sight of Hamob standing on the other side of the bowl-shaped room with the central pool between them.

“You gave me your word,” Mak’to’ran growled as he continued walking forward and down into the water.

“I did not break it,” Hamob said, backtracking slightly. He wasn’t wearing armor, and without his Ikrid to use as a weapon he wouldn’t stand a chance against the Hakja in combat.

“Tew’chor is dead,” Mak’to’ran said, summoning a Jumat energy field over the front chest of his armor and holding it there for a moment, shimmering with visual distortion until he stepped out of the water on Hamob’s side, then he released it and knocked the elder Era’tran off his thick legs. He fell on his right side with a thud, then a series of force fields activated and penned Mak’to’ran in as Hamob got back on his feet.

“We did not kill him,” he insisted.

“Do not lie to me,” Mak’to’ran said, covering his entire body with the same shimmer then pressing through the shield with an effort as a large piece of ornate decoration was telekinetically pried off the wall and flew through the air to smack Mak’to’ran in the head where it broke into multiple pieces.

“Listen to me,” Hamob insisted. “If I had betrayed your trust I would not have left myself here to be found, nor let you inside. I did not lie to you.”

Mak’to’ran finished his shield penetration and stepped within 20 meters of his fellow Era’tran…then in a blur of motion shot himself forward and head butted into Hamob’s chest…but he didn’t hit squarely, for the other Era’tran dodged to his right, causing the impact to spin him around to where he flanked Mak’to’ran. Hamob continued his awkward spin and whipped his tail in the direction of his turn to smack the attacking Era’tran in the flank…but another Jumat blast responded a split second later, much larger than before, and sent Hamob flying dozens of meters to where he hit the incline and rolled down into the pool dragging bits of furniture with him.

“The V’kit’no’sat cannot be rebuilt on foundations born of treachery,” Mak’to’ran lectured with an angry voice. “Tew’chor came to me in confidence, and I brought him to you in the same. He is dead because of my miscalculation. He is dead because I trusted you.”

“No!” Hamob said, equally angry. “He is dead because someone else wished it, and they altered the Urrtren records to put the blame on the Era’tran.”

Mak’to’ran stopped walking forward, frozen in an angry confusion. “Explain.”

“I knew of Tew’chor’s death before you did, and have been frantically trying to figure out what happened. I had to go to the Bastik System personally to inspect the Urrtren relay to find evidence of tampering after confirming the location of every warship we possessed. None were unaccounted for, and somehow the Urrtren relay was told to mark the attacking ship as Era’tran and overwrite its passive sensors. It was not an Era’tran vessel that killed Tew’chor.”

Mak’to’ran’s Sav-enhanced mind worked fast. “Define ‘told.’”

“Bits of transmitted sensors from the Les’i’kron Wur’ki made it through and were amended seamlessly. Only upon inspection of the machinery was I able to pull a tampering imprint, carefully designed not to show on any transmitted status records from the relay. I do not know how that is possible, but it was done. I have no answers, which is why I did not contact you, but I have been tracking down any potential corruption within the Era’tran and have found none. Few knew of Tew’chor, and none of them broke security. That much I have confirmed.”

“Someone obviously knew,” Mak’to’ran countered, holding his position.

“The skill level of the relay hack is something Era’tran cannot accomplish,” Mak’to’ran said ominously.

“The deep traitors show their hand again?”

“I cannot say for certain, but that possibility is weighing heavily on my mind.”

Mak’to’ran deactivated his Ikrid jamming and retracted his armor, with Hamob visibly settling.

“Do not apologize, your response was appropriate,” the Elder said, obviously frustrated. “We are both being played for fools.”

“Were you able to recover debris?”

“Yes. It is consistent with a Les’i’kron Wur’ki, but it was thoroughly pulverized. Whoever attacked wanted to make sure none survived to be recovered, nor sensor records. There was no debris found from the attacking vessel and nothing of use from the Wur’ki.”

“Have you tracked the Era’tran ship?”

“It left on a jumpline and traveled to an Era’tran world, but no vessel arrived. The records were phantoms, but perfect ones. Only our own equipment confirms that the entry record is faulty. Anyone else studying the Urrtren data will confirm that we are responsible and not believe any arrival data provided by us.”

“This reeks of Itaru, but who has the knowledge to accomplish this?”

“The vessel had to be stealthed to avoid detection upon leaving and entering, for while there was a phantom leaving the system there is no trail of one arriving when backtracked through the jumpline. This is not sloppiness, but a message. We are being played, and anyone intelligent enough to discover the Urrtren manipulation will know it. Those who do not will either take the data at face value or believe us to possess a stealth warship.”

“Do we?”

“We have held to protocol. Nothing larger than Wur’ki is so designed. If we fight, it is out in the open and boldly so, but others will doubt us now.”

“Who is spreading this?”

“Oddly none are. Only the Les’i’kron have directly accused us.”

“Itaru has said nothing?”

“The Les’i’kron world Tew’chor came from is part of the Non-Aligned Confederation, and they do not share information with one another.”

“Then someone wanted him dead more than us discredited.”

“That is too simple an assessment. This treason is complicated and deep. Deeper than I can currently fathom. I had hoped to have more information before you arrived, but I do not.”

“Who can do this?”

“Someone who has advanced more than us in secret. I do not have any warranted suspicions.”

“I would like to hear the unwarranted ones.”

“Only the two obvious ones…which cannot be the culprits.”

Mak’to’ran’s body tensed sharply, then he threw his head back and yelled a long, loud rumble of frustration. “How do we fight what we cannot see!”

“We cannot until they reveal themselves, and they will not do so until it is to their advantage. We must progress regardless and weather the taint.”

“The taint must be removed if we are to reforge the empire.”

“Thus our enemy wins with a simple assassination.”

Mak’to’ran snarled. “Can you learn anything of the method of hacking?”

“Only narrow down what was not used and theorize. So far we have no working prototypes for replication.”

“What of the proximity sensors?”

“They were not compromised in the same method. Either they were wiped in such a way that I could not determine, or the overrides were sent via comm and then deleted after the fact. I suspect the latter but cannot confirm.”

“Then the entire Urrtren is suspect.”

“Yes,” Hamob said simply, though the implications of that were beyond reckoning. It was the Urrtren that bound the empire together, and without it they could not effectively function as an integrated whole. They’d devolve to factionalization no matter what loyalties they held. Communication was essential, and sending courier ships was too slow to facilitate the interconnectivity that they needed. The Urrtren was so important that nobody was sabotaging or destroying the relays, treating it as a piece of infrastructure to be fought over and a spoil of war rather than a target to be eliminated.

“Whoever has done this either learned of Tew’chor from the Les’i’kron, from his contact with us, or by monitoring the Urrtren…and if it was the latter they had to know what to look for, meaning they were probably the ones who helped engineer the degeneration of the Zak’de’ron and fear it being undone.”

“It cannot be undone in whole.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“Totally.”

“Why?”

“Parts of the original Zak’de’ron genetic code were made dormant and could be reactivated, but other parts were deleted. Those cannot be rediscovered.”

“Unless you had access to the original code.”

“The original code was purged from databases.”

“What?”

“During the rewrite Les’i’kron code replaced Zak’de’ron code in all databases to hide the alterations. How much so I do not know, but I have found discrepancies in my previous studies.”

“You told me you were studying Zak’de’ron code?”

“I am.”

“Where did you procure yours?”

“Various sources, but even they had deletions. There is still a wealth of information in them, but they are not complete.”

“Two?”

Hamob nodded. “That is what I suspect. One by the V’kit’no’sat, and an earlier one by the Zak’de’ron themselves that no one ever realized.”

“Then the Les’i’kron coding is…”

“Potentially flawed.”

“The initial revisions were corrections?”

“That had to be covered up when the flawed ones were eliminated. It is possible that Tew’chor had a flaw they did not pick up that circumvented their suppression. Our geneticists are still unclear about that, but we have actual samples to study rather than relying on Urrtren data. That much is secure in multiple places and we will not lose it.”

“Are there parts of his coding that don’t match Les’i’kron norms?”

“Yes. And they don’t match his official genetic code either.”

“How does that work with genetic reconstruction?”

“Devices sample the genetic code directly rather than relying on a saved profile except in select situations. I have been going back over records and finding genetic anomalies in Les’i’kron throughout history above and beyond any other race. I believe it is technological in source.”

“They sabotaged them because of the inaccuracies.”

“It would seem so.”

Mak’to’ran half spun around as his mind raced. “Are any other races showing symptoms of this?”

“I have people checking the others, but we at least are clean.”

“The cost of lies,” Mak’to’ran noted.

“I will pursue this and all other paths that unfold. You need to return to lead the culling against the Garas’tox. You do not know how much your victory in Teqwisor has altered the state of the empire. There is a legitimacy with you born of dominance, and that dominance must continue. Let me grapple with the elusive traitors while you lead us back towards unity.”

“While the Les’i’kron remain enslaved?”

“They are diminished, not enslaved.”

“It is a form of slavery.”

“And one we cannot rectify in the present. Once the empire is reforged it is something we can deal with.”

“Except we won’t, because we may end up unleashing a former enemy. Be honest in that our enemy has done you a service.”

“I gave my word and intended to honor it. The Era’tran did honor it. But to the honestly you request, yes, they did us a service. The Les’i’kron are stable and loyal to the V’kit’no’sat. Free their minds and there is no knowing what will become of them. Also consider that they are stable in the current form. Uncovering what is suppressed may not be enough with the deletions. We could cause the death or rebellion of many by tampering with their current state. The Les’i’kron are not the Zak’de’ron and we should not try to recreate them. If there are any more individuals in the same condition as Tew’chor we will deal with them privately.”

“Assuming they aren’t killed by the other Les’i’kron first.”

“It is not our problem.”

“I lead the V’kit’no’sat. Therefore it is my problem.”

“Then I suggest you prioritize, for you can’t deal with all problems simultaneously and there is nothing about this one you can do now.”

“And you wish me to pursue the culling?”

“Do you believe your time is best spent elsewhere?”

“I can multi-task,” Mak’to’ran said, spinning around with disgust as he headed out of Hamob’s residence and back into his drop pod, promptly leaving both the planet and the system.

Mak’to’ran didn’t return to the rendezvous point with his culling fleet, but instead used the speed of his enhanced Kafcha to travel to Tew’chor’s former world of Toyva. When he arrived he was not met with a warm greeting, but rather a fleet of Les’i’kron warships that were more than a match for his own vessel, though none of them had the maneuvering capability to run him down. He sat in stellar orbit at a distance exchanging messages until Tew’chor’s replacement agreed to hear him out.

The two did not meet in person, but Mak’to’ran’s ship was allowed to move into low planetary orbit so the pair did not have to suffer time lags in their private holographic transmission.

“You claim you did not have him killed?” Jaas’me asked irreverently.

“I did not. He sought me out to track down potential treason by Itaru and I kept knowledge of his arrival a secret. He returned to you unharmed, correct?”

“Then when he traveled back to meet with you again you had him killed.”

“He never reached me.”

“No. An Era’tran vessel intercepted him enroute.”

“All Era’tran vessels have been accounted for. It was not one of our ships that killed him.”

The Les’i’kron sneered. “We have the Urrtren records.”

“Upon considerable inspection, we have discovered a level of technological tampering that is beyond the ability of the Era’tran.”

“What sort of tampering do you refer to?”

“Altering of the sensor recordings to indicate an Era’tran ship where there was none.”

“Are we to assume Tew’chor’s vessel destroyed itself?”

“No. There was another vessel there that attacked and killed him. They altered the records to put a false generic identification over their own.”

“Who?”

“Unknown.”

“Why come here to tell us this?”

“Because the level of technological knowledge necessary to produce this alteration in the Urrtren is akin to that used at Terraxis to unlock the planetary defense station and give the Humans full access.”

Jass’me hissed again. “The Oso’lon or the J’gar?”

“I do not believe it could be either. I have no answer to the mystery of Terraxis or this assassination.”

“You come to us, taking time away from your Garas’tox culling, to give us no information?”

“I would prefer to have answers, but I do not. Tew’chor came to me with a request and I was unable to protect him. All I can do is tell you as much of the truth that I know. You may not believe me, but I am giving you my word for whatever you think its worth. Tew’chor was valuable to me. His death is a loss that I did not order nor did the Era’tran execute.”

“What was the treason he spoke of?”

“Something involving your hatcheries. He returned to investigate it. I assume he was coming to me with additional information gathered.”

“What specifically was he concerned about that involved you?”

“He believed the Les’i’kron were under surveillance and needed an outsider to deal with the situation, so he came to me.”

“To do what?”

“Get answers. Some I was able to provide, but they led to more questions that he returned here to explore in private.”

“Why will you not speak of what he was after? Do you doubt my loyalty?”

“If he did not wish to speak of it with any Les’i’kron, then that is a choice I will honor. His reasons were his own, do not expect me to know them.”

“And what would you have me do with this limited information?”

“That is not my concern, but I will offer you a warning. Tew’chor believed that Itaru was going to move against this system eventually. We believe they want all Les’i’kron under their command and will not respect your sovereignty.”

“That we are already aware of, Era’tran. You did not need to come here to point out the obvious.”

“One side effect of his death and framing the Era’tran is a distrust of the reborn V’kit’no’sat. If the Non-Aligned Confederation fails and you do not trust us, then Itaru is your only other path forward, correct?”

“You suggest they framed you to drive us back to them?”

“I cannot say for sure who is responsible, but the results are the same regardless. We are not your enemy, and if you choose to leave the Non-Aligned Confederation you are welcome to join us. I am not asking it of you, I am informing you in person so you will know that that pathway is not closed.”

“Our leader is killed and you come here recruiting! How gullible do you think we are?”

“Very. Itaru has played you for a long time.”

“And you seek to continue their ways?”

“No. I am simply giving you the facts as I know them. What you decide to do is up to you. If Tew’chor were here we’d be having a very different conversation, but he’s not. There’s just ignorant you. Do what you wish. Without Tew’chor I have little interest in your world, but the offer to rejoin us stands,” Mak’to’ran said, ending the transmission.

But a few moments later a comm prompt caught his attention and he reestablished contact with Jass’me.

“Tell me, Era’tran. If you truly wish to rebuild the empire, tell me what treason you discussed.”

“A possible manipulation of the Les’i’kron to keep them loyal to Itaru…and one that they wouldn’t want to be exposed.”

Jass’me hissed again, but it was part satisfaction that Mak’to’ran had actually answered his question as the Les’i’kron ended the transmission this time, after which the Era’tran vessel promptly left the system and headed back to the culling fleet that was waiting for his return before they launched their next major assault.

7

August 30, 3678

Varlo’sop System

Tunha

Mak’to’ran was in the middle of his fourth major culling attack against a shared world where the Garas’tox dominated the oceans and a combination of Brat’mar and 4 minor races owned the two small continents that made up 22% of the surface. The invading V’kit’no’sat forces had no quarrel with those on the land, but they had taken a few foothold bases on the shoreline to mount their underwater assaults from that were grinding forward at an agonizingly slow rate because Mak’to’ran wouldn’t force combat in areas where his troops were at a disadvantage.

The techniques he’d used in previous attacks had been learned from and defenses formed, making his job harder now despite the fact that he’d attracted double the amount of aquatic population to the new V’kit’no’sat than he had before. Taking down the Garas’tox as he had on Naviyo had broken up the mostly solid block the J’gar had formed around aquatics and the destruction of the myth that land and air power couldn’t effectively fight them beneath the water.

With a new force capable of aquatic combat, albeit in an unusual fashion, allegiances had begun to shift and many aquatics that had grudges against the Garas’tox or simply didn’t tolerate the slaughter they had been exacting had either joined Mak’to’ran’s reforged V’kit’no’sat or loaned forces to him for the purpose of this culling. The fact that he wasn’t trading their lives for immediate gains had garnered even more support, as well as the all too clear presence of the commander himself leading these heavy assaults instead of organizing multiple ones simultaneously and overseeing them from afar.

Currently Mak’to’ran’s issue was getting to the remaining planetary defense station the Garas’tox still held. The other he had already taken and was using to guard his troop and supply convoys as they came up and down from the surface, for the Garas’tox had a sizeable naval force in the system that had avoided direct conflict. They didn’t want themselves to be destroyed and leave Mak’to’ran with complete naval superiority, so the Era’tran had to guard against any attack runs they might make and keep a close watch on all his smaller craft and exposed troops on the surface…not to mention the fact that the Garas’tox warships could bombard the ocean around the Garas’tox-held planetary defense station from orbit where they were holding position, daring Mak’to’ran to come after them and face the Tar’vem’jic fire from the surface.

Mak’to’ran had to take out the defenses station from below, which meant aquatic fighting to get his digging teams in place and that was what was taking so much time, for he couldn’t just run his underwater army up within range and start digging. They’d be countered from above and from the Garas’tox army in the water, so his approach was taking on new wrinkles as he adapted to his foes and improvised in addition to pulling up data from long forgotten aquatic battles in an effort to glean any useful insights.

Mak’to’ran was patiently mulling over options as he monitored the progress on the planet below when sensors picked up ships entering the system. They were few but large and belonged to the J’gar, who had been absent along with the Oso’lon from almost all affairs within the empire as they held the line against the Hadarak along with a small but growing fleet from the new V’kit’no’sat to try and take some of the burden off them while they tried to put up enough resistance to convince the Hadarak that there was not weakness for them to exploit…and so far it had been working.

The J’gar ships did not make contact until they made planetary orbit and Mak’to’ran sent word to allow them passage, for his fleet controlled most of the system and was maintaining a blockade on anyone coming in or out. When they got to his position they contacted him demanding a private audience, to which Mak’to’ran agreed so long as they would come onboard his vessel and not vice versa. To his mild surprise they agreed, so he had his Kafcha reconfigure one of the cargo bays for water and had the J’gar drop pod release a single individual into it, with Mak’to’ran walking out on a platform just above the surface of the water as the huge aquatic four times his mass broke the surface and raised its long, thin neck up higher than Mak’to’ran stood.

Its top of its ridged body floated in air, with two massive wing-like fins and a long, thick tail keeping it upright, underneath which four tentacle-like legs drifted lazily. It’s body was pale blue in color, but had many bioluminescent patches that glowed a deep purple in the dark room with nothing but running lights on the platform where Mak’to’ran stood. Both individuals could see well with their Pefbar so the illumination was frivolous, but the J’gar liked low lighting and seeing as how they had agreed to come onboard Mak’to’ran had ordered their preferred accommodations set up for this impromptu meeting.

“If you are here to convince me to end the culling, you are wasting your time,” Mak’to’ran said, looking at the smaller head hovering before him.

“Far from it. Your culling is appropriate and your execution exemplary thus far. Going forward you will receive more resistance as the Garas’tox adapt to your methods.”

“They cannot rebuild their infrastructure so fast, and I do not intend to let them have centuries to rework it.”

“Never the less, there are Garas’tox worlds you will not be able to take without excessive bloodshed, either in orbit or within the waters. The J’gar want to end this, but we carry an unwarranted taint that must be addressed first. We have made exhaustive efforts to locate any potential traitors without our own race, but have not encountered even a shred of suspicion, let alone evidence. Those responsible for Terraxis must be another, though we are now skeptical that it is the Oso’lon who are responsible. Evidence is sparse and logic untenable. This is a mystery that must be solved, and yet we cannot solve it. So we have investigated ourselves heavily to make sure we were not at fault, and we are now convinced that the treason originated elsewhere.”

“I cannot take your word for that.”

“The investigation was not meant for you, and involves many matters that you are not cleared to know of. It was for us to be certain that we are not at fault.”

“And now?”

“We need to find a way to reconcile. The Garas’tox would never have dared come this far if we were not incapacitated by this taint. We seek a way to remove it if the traitors are not able to be identified.”

Mak’to’ran growled slowly, but his ire wasn’t directed at the J’gar, rather the predicament they found themselves in.

“That has been on my mind for many years, and I do not know of a way short of the Hjar’at’s path to do so.”

“That will not work on us. Our minds are too powerful. You could never penetrate deep enough.”

“That I know, and the betrayal of trust required would do more damage to the empire. The Hjar’at are stubborn enough to make it work, but it has temporarily weakened their resolve. Success will heal their pride, but I do not think the other races would respond the same way. Invasive loyalty tests are not an option. What would you suggest?”

“Nothing that would be sufficient in our estimation, so I am here to ask you what you would require.”

“Are you merely a messenger?”

“No. I am Didact of the J’gar. This is a matter too important to be left to intermediaries.”

Mak’to’ran involuntarily stiffened. The Didact of the J’gar was their supreme leader, but one that was never seen. Much like how Hamob and other elders worked from behind the scenes, the J’gar Didact was even more elusive and operated under no name other than the title. Why the J’gar were so secretive had never been revealed, but assuming this J’gar wasn’t lying, the Didact being here, alone, and within Mak’to’ran’s ship totally vulnerable was a huge act of trust…not to mention why he had not wanted to communicate with the Era’tran over a comm line.

“Didact?” he asked, both skeptical and in awe. “Why would you need an investigation when you rule?”

“I lead. I do not rule. And given the size of our holdings there is much that could be occurring without my knowledge. Such subterfuge has not occurred, but we had to make sure.”

“Then I need answers from you concerning things you may not wish to speak of.”

“I am here because you are deserving of trust and have the intelligence necessary for a conversation of equals. Ask your questions.”

“What was done to the Zak’de’ron when you transformed them into Les’i’kron?”

The Didact’s head snapped back a fraction in reaction, but a calm steadiness replaced it as he leaned his neck forward a bit more than he had before.

“The assassination of the Les’i’kron Tew’chor.”

“He brought me information that was disturbing. I need to know the truth, not the propaganda that has replaced our historical records.”

“Propaganda is necessary for lesser minds to grasp. More complicated matters are too intricate for those without Sav, and inherently they will come to believe something based on the words that will end up at best being incomplete, but more likely some form of lie despite us speaking the truth. It is best to construct a lie to that is more honest than the ones they would erroneously manufacture themselves.”

“The lack of trust that engenders is divisive.”

“But necessary.”

“Why not upgrade all V’kit’no’sat with Sav so such duplicity is not necessary?”

“Because they are not deserving of it. There is a necessary hierarchy, and pure equality will not be possible even with Sav, for the racial differences are too much. Even with Sav, Era’tran are not on the mental level of the J’gar, but you are close enough that we can interact effectively…and in turn you can interact effectively with the lesser races.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that attitude the reason why we destroyed the Zak’de’ron?”

“It was, amongst other things, but in their absence some of their wisdom has come to light.”

“We erred.”

“We did,” the Didact admitted. “And we have paid a high price for that betrayal on numerous occasions.”

“What of the Les’i’kron?”

“They were constructed to serve multiple purposes, one of which was pure ego. Destroying the Zak’de’ron was us taking down a superior, but by subjugating them we believed that would make us equals by exchanging roles. In order to do so we had to strip most of their psionics from their genetic code while adding their Saroto’kanse’vam. Removing their Sav was not possible because they did not have the upgrade. It was simply natural and from that state they developed our upgrades. In order to degenerate them to a sufficient level we had to crudely chop away much of their mental capacity…but we also had to ensure they would not rebel, so we input mental programming to cement their loyalty.”

“Tew’chor’s programming did not activate,” Mak’to’ran revealed. “He hid his mental state from the other Les’i’kron, citing that they would have killed him had they known. What part of the programming was that?”

“He was an anomaly?” the J’gar said, aghast.

“And one that I intended to use to restore, at least in part, the Les’i’kron. Then someone kills him and blames the Era’tran.”

“Was it not an Era’tran ship?”

“No. The Urrtren was altered to make it appear as such. What did you do to them to make them kill their own?”

“Loyalty is measured in many ways, and we did not want to have to enforce it. Thus we programmed an inclination to enforce it themselves, with any small anomalies being discouraged by others.”

“And large ones?”

“There have been no large ones since the inception of their race.”

“Are you still making alterations in the hatcheries?”

“No. The Les’i’kron are what they are now. They need no looking after, but this Tew’chor is alarming. If he is an anomaly and has been reproducing, there could be others.”

“You will not kill them,” Mak’to’ran said firmly.

“You could not stop us if we wanted to, but do not concern yourself with that worry. That is not my intent.”

“What is?”

“To discover the flaw.”

“And correct it?”

“If necessary.”

“Such betrayal only weakens us further.”

“Correction does not always mean purging, Era’tran. The Les’i’kron are a powerful race and charting their own path forward. They are a key piece of the empire that we do not want to see unravel.”

“That key piece is a pawn of Itaru now, thanks in large part to your programming.”

“Itaru is not a threat. It is those you call the ‘arrogant’ that are. They have gathered in Itaru, but they do not rule there. Many of the J’gar also fall into that category, but I am not one of them.”

“Are you helpless to deal with the others?”

“Our interactions are not easy for a groundpounder to contemplate, but I can assure you we are not fracturing. It is more a difference of opinion how to proceed.”

“And the J’gar there allied with the Itaru faction?”

“Assisting only. There is too much taint on them to do much else.”

“Then who is leading the faction?”

“They have no leader. They are a paranoid group that moves in unison.”

“Much like the Zak’de’ron thought of us?”

“Perhaps, but they are gone and we are here. You and I must chart a course of action.”

“There is only one thing to be done short of exposing the treason.”

“You have a plan?”

“For the moment I am the key. The V’kit’no’sat are reforging around me, but this is not a stable arrangement, nor is the false equality the arrogant wish to force upon all. On that point, why did the J’gar agree to not recovering our colonies lost during the Rit’ko’sor Rebellion?”

“The galaxy is too large for us to control, and it was feared that we had pressed too far out into the Rim. Reworking the post rebellion territory seemed wiser than reckless expansion.”

“The dominant do not fear strength. After reconstruction was complete we should have begun expanding again.”

“To what end? Full conquest of the entire galaxy? We can’t patrol all the systems around our current territory.”

“We do not need to, but there are threats out there that we have no knowledge of because we have no presence on the Rim and apparently we have not been looking. How has that been allowed to happen, Didact? Why did you allow it?”

“I was not Didact then. I have only been so for the past 300 years.”

“Was the other killed?”

“Died. The particulars of which are hidden even from me. I hold great power, but I do not rule the J’gar.”

“And you cannot find answers if you look for them?”

“I did not deserve the promotion when I attained it, and I have been reluctant to push too hard. Now, given what has become of the empire and the revelation of Terraxis, I no longer have the luxury of timidity. What answers I could have sought before have long since been eradicated, but I can assure you we have looked into everything trying to determine if there was a link to Terraxis. There has been a malevolence within the J’gar, quiet, behind the scenes, but it has been nothing more than corrupt individuals covering for one another. They are part of the arrogant and have been dealt with. I hold a mandate by all J’gar to find the corruption and destroy it, by any means necessary, and I have done so…but the treason of Terraxis no J’gar is responsible for. I cannot solve what is not within our race.”

“Is there evidence of an exterior power influencing the arrogant?”

“I have searched, but there is no evidence of one beyond mere ideology. Individuals advanced beyond merit are susceptible to it, which is why the Zak’de’ron probably held us back as well.”

“Not enough,” Mak’to’ran pointed out.

“You spoke of a possible solution. What have you conjured?”

“Something you will not like, but something that is necessary. Originally there were three that led, the strongest of which is now gone and the remaining two are tainted with suspicion. Other than myself, the V’kit’no’sat have nowhere to place their trust.”

“And your remedy to this?”

“There must be three again.”

The J’gar shook his head sadly. “The Les’i’kron are what they are. They cannot be remade into the Zak’de’ron. We made sure of that at the time.”

“I am not speaking of the Les’i’kron. My interest in them is dealing with an injustice.”

The J’gar’s neck pulled back slightly as he finally understood Mak’to’ran’s unspoken demand.

“The Era’tran…”

“We must become the third. We are not of the sky, but that is irrelevant. With the J’gar and Oso’lon tainted by the possible treachery of Terraxis, a third equal partner is required to stabilize the leadership…along with select elevations of others according to merit where they have been hobbled by the arrogant in the past. Equality cannot be forced, but it can be cultivated with time and scrupulous effort.”

“How do you see this occurring?”

“We are already taking steps on our own to rise to this position,” Mak’to’ran said, flashing his Saroto’kanse’vam on, and in the dark of the chamber they glowed far brighter than the Didact’s bioluminescent patches. “But we would require a sharing of knowledge with you and the Oso’lon to bring us up to speed.”

“And sanctioned psionic upgrades?”

“No. Only select individuals will get these and others, as will those in other races that earn them. Too much is given based on hatching and too many who warrant more power are restricted because of their race. A pathway must be established similar to the Zen’zat for deserving individuals. The Era’tran are seeking no mass upgrades.”

“I cannot make the Era’tran an equal simply by edict. Growth takes time.”

“It does, but the Era’tran are already part of the reforged V’kit’no’sat. If the J’gar and Oso’lon join us rather than us rejoining you, parity can be accomplished through the reunification…but we will require accurate historical records and technology that you have been hoarding in order to generate parody…and once that occurs we will share with you a few things that you do not know.”

“You claim some parity already exists?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps there is more wisdom in your plan than mere greed would suggest.”

“Without the Era’tran there would be no reforged V’kit’no’sat.”

“Obviously,” the Didact admitted, “but this will not be accepted easily.”

“Do you see another way?”

“It does not matter if we cannot make it happen. Great care we must take, and the Oso’lon must also be in agreement.”

“So you agree?”

“You may have Sav, but I still can think faster than you. Elevation of the Era’tran will alter the empire in many ways, most of which can become positive if handled properly. How to do that is the question.”

“Then it is fortunate that you came in person so we may plan without delay…but I do have an invasion to continue and that requires a great deal of my time.”

“We will expedite the conquest of this world. I have brought sufficient troops to spearhead any necessary aquatic combat, though the Garas’tox may simply surrender after I have spoken with them. Either way, your focus must become removing the taint from us so we can reunify the empire, and if that requires elevating the Era’tran, then that must become my focus.”

8

November 2, 3669

Previously in the Bastik System

Tew’chor was traveling back to Vviot to meet with Mak’to’ran again, having been unable to find anything amiss with the hatcheries on his world and hoping the Era’tran would have some more answers for him by this point, when his Wur’ki came under unexpected attacked. One moment the system was clear and they were passing through, the next they were taking hull damage before they even had a chance to put their shields up.

Tew’chor wasn’t on the command deck at the time, but when he got there half his ship was wrecked and he found his gravity drives disabled by an IDF. They couldn’t run and they couldn’t fight, but worse was the fact that the alien ship attacking them was something he was totally unfamiliar with. Constructed of huge coils wrapped around one another, it was slightly smaller than his Wur’ki but possessed so much firepower that the Les’i’kron had no idea who it could possibly be.

It wasn’t V’kit’no’sat, but the number of races that had power equal to their own were so limited to be laughable. Whoever this was had completely come out of nowhere, and even as his ship was being blown to bits the thought of Terraxis came to mind. Was this the mysterious traitors, and if so were they allied with one of the factions or was this a race allied to Star Force and quartered in their Uriti Preserve?

Tew’chor probably didn’t have long to ponder such things, but he couldn’t help it. Something huge was going down here and warning the empire was the only play he had left. Using their backup comm systems he sent out repetitive bursts trying to get through the jamming to the nearby Urrtren relay that functioned as a bridge between other systems while this one lay empty. They were too far away from it to show up as more than a tracking dot, so the Les’i’kron had to send their own telemetry to it and Tew’chor wasn’t sure if they succeed or not by the time all their emitters were scrapped.

But the ship wasn’t destroyed then and there. Rather the weaponsfire stopped as one of the coils on the ship unwrapped and rammed into the hull. Soon he got reports of boarding troops and quick dawned his own set of armor, latching it onto the various portions of his golden-scaled body before mentally activating it and having the pitch black material spread out covering him everywhere. If the attackers were boarding the ship they wanted something and he was determined to deny it to them…or at least kill one of them before he was destroyed, though the confines of the ship wouldn’t allow for much flying.

Tew’chor was the only Les’i’kron on the ship, but his Zen’zat met with the invaders first and through their Ensek he was able to see the invaders. There were two of them, quadruped, and almost looked like Les’i’kron save for their long necks and lack of Saroto’kanse’vam. Tew’chor didn’t know what they were, but the crimson armor they wore became his primary target as he saw one of his Zen’zat lifted off the ground and ripped in half telekinetically.

With a fury born of desperation and rage, Tew’chor ran forward while bringing his tail up over his back and igniting his Saroto’kanse’vam. He intended to jump on and eviscerate one of the boarders but he never got the chance as his mind was suddenly invaded by a pressure so strong it disoriented his balance and he fell, trying to push back against the powerful mind working against his.

Meanwhile he was partially aware of the Zen’zat still fighting, their Ikrid blocks coming in very handy right now. Tew’chor’s armor had a technological backup function that he could activate if his own mind was too weak to withstand attack, but he was so overwhelmed he couldn’t find the mental trigger for it. Disoriented as he was, he blindly surged forward, lashing with his tail and cutting through something as he felt resistance. He repeated the attack again and again, not knowing where his opponents were until what was left of his formidable mental barriers crumbled and the attackers rendered him unconscious…

“Be still, Les’i’kron,” he heard a voice say aloud and in his mind as Tew’chor struggled to wake up, blinking eyes that did not want to focus as a powerful presence was still strangling his thoughts. “We are not here to kill you.”

“Release me,” he demanded, but only slowly did the pressure lesson and his vision cleared. He was still onboard his own ship with bits and pieces of wall and Zen’zat cluttering the floor of the main connective chamber that was large enough to accommodate minimal flight. He did not remember getting this far from the command deck, but the slashes in the floor testified that he had been fighting here and not moved, though how long he had been unconscious he did not know.

“You are uninjured, do not make us change that status,” one of the two attackers said as the pressure on his mind vanished and Tew’chor was in possession of his senses once again. He looked down on the smaller attackers, wondering how they had managed to disable him as his tail flashed into brilliance again out of sheer anger.

“What have you done?”

“Your ship is damaged and will be destroyed shortly. Your Zen’zat are also dead, but you will be coming with us alive.”

“You’ll have to make me,” he said, curling his tail up defensively and ready to strike as he reinforced his mind while reaching for the mental trigger in his armor. His telepathy cut out, now blocked, but so too was that of his attackers. They wouldn’t be hobbling him again in such a manner.

“We are here to rescue you, brother. There is no need to fight.”

“You are not Les’i’kron,” he hissed. “Why do you call me brother?”

One of the two attackers had his armor melt across his body in an eerily similar way to V’kit’no’sat technology as it reduced itself down to a series of rings on the alien’s feet…but they were the same feet, same legs, and same scales as his own. Somehow this was a long-necked Les’i’kron, and Tew’chor knew that whoever they were they had to be involved with Terraxis and the alterations made to subjugate his race.

“We are Zak’de’ron, ancestors of the mutated Les’i’kron. We are your true form, and one which you have partially regained on your own merits.”

Tew’chor took a step back, uncertain as to what was happening given how impossible what he was hearing was.

“The Zak’de’ron did not have long necks.”

“Your records have been altered, though there are enough lingering traces to pull together on the Urrtren for those sufficiently curious. Yet you have been designed to not ask questions, haven’t you?”

“Explain this,” Tew’chor demanded.

“We will, but not here. Come onboard our ship. You are now dead to the V’kit’no’sat, and they cannot know we exist. We have revealed ourselves to recover you, but now we must cover our tracks.”

“And my Zen’zat?”

“They are V’kit’no’sat, you are not. They are all dead, as will be this vessel, but you will survive unless you are too corrupted to think clearly. When I was in your mind I sensed otherwise, so please come with us willingly.”

“You kill my Zen’zat then ask?”

“They had to die and you would not willingly allow that, thus the choice was not brought before you.”

“What have you done to my race?” Tew’chor said, not budging an inch.

“The question is what did the V’kit’no’sat do to your race. During the war we were but eggs held in stasis and the only survivors. The V’kit’no’sat destroyed our race then created the Les’i’kron from our remains to serve them. It was no culling, it was a full overthrow and annihilation. Only a small, secret program allowed us to survive. Everyone else was successfully hunted down and destroyed. Your history has been rewritten to obscure the fact that we created the V’kit’no’sat and they betrayed us…then they tampered with a genetic code they could not fully understand to create you.”

“Yet you are different,” the other Zak’de’ron continued. “Your mind is Zak’de’ron. Primitive, confused, distorted, but your mind is your own. The Les’i’kron have been eviscerated, but somehow you regenerated…partially.”

“And you want to know how?”

“We already know, and sadly it is not something that can be replicated. Your existence is an anomaly. You are not Les’i’kron, not fully, and you are not Zak’de’ron. You are something in between, but there is enough of us in you to be recovered. We came here to save you.”

“While killing my Zen’zat?”

“They are loyal to the V’kit’no’sat?”

“That is their function.”

“The V’kit’no’sat are our enemy, therefore their Zen’zat are our enemy. They would not willingly change sides.”

“And you believe I will?”

“I believe you want to know the truth, and we have taken great risk in revealing ourselves to you.”

“And I cannot leave with that knowledge?”

“Indeed, but there is nothing for you to go back to. You were never truly one of them.”

“And you wish to take me where?”

“Away from here. Far, far away.”

“To the Rim?”

“We won’t need to go that far.”

“For what purpose?”

“To bring you home. Though you are not fully Zak’de’ron, you are the only elder we have save for one, and even if you are inferior to us you have survived so long amongst the enemy that you deserve to be free of them. We came here out of respect. The method used is to fake your death and hide our existence.”

Tew’chor deactivated his Saroto’kanse’vam and lowered his tail, but kept his armor deployed as he thought fast. It was clear they weren’t giving him a choice, but whether he went willing or not was the question…and they were right. He did want answers. The death of his Zen’zat still infuriated him, but if they weren’t recoverable then there was nothing…

“Revive those two,” he said, pointing a claw towards a pair of Zen’zat that had been shot rather than ripped apart.

“No. They stay as they are. Better to die here than live as prisoners, and we have no wish to care for them.”

“They are mine, and if they are recoverable I wish it so.”

“Only you may come. That is not something we can negotiate, nor is it up to us.”

“I will take responsibility for them.”

“You have no idea what you are saying. You are not yourself. Regardless, we are not allowing it. You will come with us or you will not. The choice is yours.”

“And if I choose death?”

“You won’t. You’ve wanted answers your entire life, and we offer them. More than the V’kit’no’sat ever could.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“Long enough for us to vet you.”

“If I had not passed inspection you would have killed me?”

“Yes, but we would not have attacked had we not been sure. The crude analysis of your genetic code was confirmation enough.”

“Obtained from who?”

“The initial scan you gave the Era’tran. It was transmitted via the Urrtren to their homeworld.”

“How did you possess it?”

“We created the Urrtren,” the Zak’de’ron said simply, letting Tew’chor run through all the permutations of that simple fact.

“You can monitor all traffic?”

“That is how we discovered you. You have hidden well over the millennia, and you deserve both answers and your freedom. We offer it.”

“My Zen’zat.”

“Were we in your position of ignorance I could understand, but we know what the Zen’zat are. We helped to create them, and their loyalty is hard to break. If they are V’kit’no’sat, they must die. There is no other way.”

“Why? Why must the V’kit’no’sat die? If you are truly the originators of the empire, why not reconquer it?”

“A mistake was made once. It will not be made again.”

“What mistake?”

“Sharing power. They took what we gave them and used it to destroy us. Never again.”

“There has already been too much killing. The empire is obsessed with it. That is a mistake you should also learn from.”

“There is much you do not know. Let us show you, then level what criticisms you will.”

“Very well…since I apparently have no choice. If I am to die fighting, I can do so just as well elsewhere,” Tew’chor said with a hint of sarcasm.

The second Zak’de’ron retracted his armor, showing that they both were red scaled. When Tew’chor retracted his, the black material pulled back to reveal the golden scales that seemed to catch their eye.

“What is the significance of my coloration?”

“Only a Zak’de’ron who has endured great torment and overcome it will be endowed with the golden scales. Given your lackluster record, it is assumed that your battles has been internal ones, and the gold is indicative of your Zak’de’ron mind prevailing against the mutations. Our inspection of your mind has confirmed this.”

“How many of you have golden scales?”

“None that still live.”

“So I outrank you?”

“No. The gold is a mark of excellence, not status. You have no idea how much you have been denied. Your struggles have been at an infantile level, but that does not make them any less important. You had no direction other than your instincts. In some ways that is more impressive, but you are not our equal, let alone our superior.”

“Are all Zak’de’ron minds so strong?”

“We were working together, but individually I am still stronger than you. As is he.”

“I sensed only one mind, not two.”

“We were using a psionic the V’kit’no’sat do not possess called Pa’no’semak. Our minds are joined as one, but even if we had not used it, yours is malformed. The V’kit’no’sat prevented much of it from forming for they feared our power.”

“Sav?”

“Our natural state recreated for partial use in others. Yours is a partial reclaiming of your birthright. We can return the rest to you.”

“You said the damage done was irreversible for the others. How can I recover what they cannot?”

“Developmental progress. We could restore them, but it would require a total reset. They would lose all experience and become hatchlings in mind once again. Your mind has enough structure to avoid that. More questions you have and we will answer, but we cannot linger here. We must destroy this vessel and cover our tracks.”

“I sent a signal to the Urrtren. Did it get through?”

“What we wanted of it. The records will be altered and your vessel will appear to have been destroyed by the Era’tran.”

“The Era’tran?”

“The more discord we can create the better, but that is not our purpose here. Recovering you is, now come with us.”

“And leave your armor here,” the other one said. “Bring no V’kit’no’sat technology with you.”

“And abandon my only defense?”

“It will not allow you to defeat us. We are also physically superior. If we want you dead you will be. We are not so reckless to allow otherwise. Come with us, brother. Leave the V’kit’no’sat behind you. Your future is with us.”

“Will you cut off my tail as well?”

“After we stretch your neck,” the Zak’de’ron joked.

“So be it,” Tew’chor said, deactivating and lifting the various pieces of jewelry off his body telekinetically and dropping the mostly linked mass in a pile on the floor next to the lower torso of a severed Zen’zat body. “If there is necessity in this, make me see it.”

9

When Tew’chor walked onboard the Zak’de’ron ship he immediately felt an eerie familiarity, so much so he stopped walked a few strides in. The dragon in front of him turned its neck back.

“What is wrong?”

“I know this…somehow. I’ve never seen it, but it feels familiar.”

“Bits of genetic memory the V’kit’no’sat did not successfully remove. More may trigger now that you are here. Come.”

Tew’chor followed through the connective dock that sealed up behind them and visibly bent as the ship reformed. The straight hallways ahead of them was now curved and they followed it through a labyrinth with no visible exits, then the Zak’de’ron ahead of him stopped in front of a piece of wall and a doorway formed with the material melting aside much as V’kit’no’sat armor transformed. He followed inside to where there was a larger chamber that would allow a limited bit of flight, for there was a hollow area with multi-tiered perches around the perimeter.

There was another red-scaled Zak’de’ron inside who looked Tew’chor’s much larger mass over.

“Welcome, brother. Have a seat while we attend to matters here and ask what questions you like. We will be leaving soon.”

“Why are you all red scaled?”

“We are young. All of us are red scaled during our formation, then when our attributes are calibrated our scale color will adjust accordingly.”

“How so?”

“The prominent skill set determines the coloration. Blue scales are a powerful mind, yellow a powerful body, and grey powerful psionics. There are a few other possibilities, such as your golden scales, but those three are earned once the minimum requirements are met. None of us has risen to that level yet.”

“How old must you get?”

“Several thousand years at least. It is a matter of skill and development, not time.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Only a few million. We are all young save for our sole elder, for we survived the destruction of our race as eggs and were born only a short time ago.”

“The culling occurred almost 900 millennia into the past.”

“Our elder is over 3 million years old, though he spent most of those 900 millennia in a form of stasis while the V’kit’no’sat believed us to be annihilated. We had to disappear from existence so we waited, us in our eggs, until the time was right. When we hatched we began work to rebuild the essential parts of our civilization before a second generation of eggs were laid. We are through 6 generations now and our population will increase exponentially going forward…but we have little experience and genetic memory can only take us so far. We are no match for the V’kit’no’sat yet, nor will be for millennia to come. We must keep our existence hidden, which is why your ship is being destroyed in such a way that your missing body will not be noticed.”

“You intend to attack them?” Tew’chor said, a bit shocked.

“For you the war is over, a part of your history. The V’kit’no’sat believe so as well, but so long as one of us draws breath we will not rest until we correct our mistake and undo the treasonous empire that we spawned.”

“How powerful are you? The empire may be fractured, but it is too powerful to defeat.”

“Too powerful to defeat quickly. Given time they will fall and we will win the war they mistakenly think is over.”

“You are not a backup survival plan…you are a long term assault force?”

“Both, but we only hide so long as necessary.”

“Yet you risked coming to get me?”

“The Les’i’kron are an abomination. You will learn why shortly. You have fought your way out of their enslavement, meaning you are in part Zak’de’ron. You are one of us, and as soon as we suspected that we began planning your retrieval.”

“Why not reconquer? If you destroy the V’kit’no’sat what will become of the Hadarak?”

“We have no plans to unleash the Hadarak on the outer regions of the galaxy that we have protected for millions of years. The cost of recovering the territory that was lost would be too great, and the races destroyed could not be recovered without proper samples. No, we are going to destroy the V’kit’no’sat, but we will not be reckless about it.”

“How then will you contain the Hadarak?”

“The elder will decide that. For now our priority is rebuilding. We are but a shadow of our former strength, and hopefully Mak’to’ran can reforge the V’kit’no’sat enough for us to kill them later. If they are so incompetent to fall apart and unleash the Hadarak on the galaxy, our shame will be increased beyond measure. Hopefully we taught them well enough that they will persist and maintain the front until we can destroy them.”

“Including the Les’i’kron?”

“Most likely if they fight alongside them. They did not participate in our annihilation because they did not exist then, so we hold them with less and greater contempt, for they are a bastardized version of us. A living mockery of what we were. If they were recoverable, such as you, we would make it a priority, but all of our research indicates they are beyond hope and now a different race that is fanatically dedicated to the empire we are going to destroy.”

“There is much wrong with us, but we do not deserve that fate for being loyal.”

“Such things are in the distant future. If there is a way to save them we will, I can promise you that.”

“As they are?”

“Perhaps. Our hate is reserved for those that hold their leash.”

“Most of those in the V’kit’no’sat now were not hatched until after the Zak’de’ron were gone. Do you hold them responsible as well?”

“If they assume their predecessors mantle, yes.”

“And if not?”

“The Rit’ko’sor had the right idea.”

“They were annihilated as well. Is that the only way the V’kit’no’sat races can regain their honor?”

“There is much you do not understand yet, and your loyalty is commendable, but once you learn what actually happened you will not view them the same.”

“What specifically do I not know?”

“Everything. We will tell some, but the elder wants to meet with you personally and he will be able to answer what we cannot.”

“Your elder is not onboard this ship?”

“No, but we will travel to his current location.”

“His name?”

“Zeno’dor.”

“How many of you are onboard this vessel?”

“Do you really have to ask?” the Zak’de’ron tested.

“I sense four, but this ship feels odd. There could be regions shielded from my Ikrid.”

“The ship’s hull is running with a psionic blind so we can get close to those with Ikrid and not be detected, but there are only four of us onboard. This is a small vessel. The one we are taking you to is not.”

“Vessel? We are not traveling to your world?”

“We have many worlds, none of which are highly populated. We must hide, so our cities are not expansive or obvious, and those few worlds where we can build freely are far from here. In order to monitor the V’kit’no’sat we must move amongst their territory, and to do that we need a hive. Does that term strike a memory?”

“It does not.”

“You will see when we arrive,” the Zak’de’ron said as he mentally activated a hologram that showed the ship they were in and the Les’i’kron vessel outside as it was being pummeled by weaponsfire with the pieces then targeted for further destruction. “This will be your place of death as far as the V’kit’no’sat know. I suggest you mentally leave your former life here and embrace the unknown ahead of you.”

“That would be easier if my Zen’zat were not killed along with the ship.”

“Your objection is noted, but the Zen’zat are the most fanatical race within the V’kit’no’sat. They cannot be converted, therefore they must be destroyed.”

“If you truly began the V’kit’no’sat, can you not simply return and assert command over them?”

“If your history had not been altered, yes. But they do not know of our existence, nor do we look like Les’i’kron. They serve the V’kit’no’sat that were founded by the Oso’lon and J’gar. Zak’de’ron do not exist, therefore we cannot return to that which we did not found…and our patience only goes so far. If the Zen’zat stood down and did not fight we would regard them differently, but that will not happen. They will be the first to fight and die to preserve the empire that we must destroy. We did not start this war, but we are going to finish it.”

“You mean restart it?”

“No, finish it. It was not a culling, it was an annihilation. So long as we live it is not finished. Tell me, if they learned we still lived what would they do?”

“Honestly I cannot predict that.”

“We know what they would do. They are already assassinating those within the V’kit’no’sat that do not behave as they wish. They would never tolerate us, just as they do not tolerate splinter factions of their own races. Once part of the V’kit’no’sat you can never leave it. Is it really so hard to imagine that they would try to finish what they started?”

“Given the rifts in the empire, your return to dominance may be welcomed by some.”

“We do not have the strength to reveal ourselves now, and this rift will end itself one way or another before we are able. Regardless, the V’kit’no’sat must be dismantled and their arrogance will not permit that. Do not think them victims. They tried to destroy us all and failed. When we strike again we will have the advantage, as well as the memories of what transpired. We do not forget. We will not forgive. We will win what they think has already been won.”

“Can you?”

“We can, but it will take great guile and an even greater amount of time to accomplish.”

“You said you monitor the Urrten?”

“Yes.”

“You use it to surveil the empire?”

“More so than you think possible. There are aspects to it that the V’kit’no’sat do not understand. They simply copy the technology, and with it our access protocols. We know more about their own empire than they do.”

“Do you know which faction is responsible for the treason of Terraxis?”

All three Zak’de’ron in the chamber began laughing, a combination of roars and hisses that were very similar to Les’i’kron mannerisms but with a signature feel that Tew’chor had not encountered before.

“What did I say that is so hilarious?”

“The Humans told you the truth. There is no faction supporting them. They were abandoned on Terraxis, recovered the planetary defense station, and have built everything you have encountered themselves. There is no sponsor. The V’kit’no’sat are fracturing over paranoia alone.”

“That is not possible. They have psionics other Zen’zat do not. They have access to the database and defense station weaponry. They hold the leash to weaponized Hadarak. They could not have done that on their own.”

“They did,” the Zak’de’ron confirmed, “though the planetary defense station was not fully operational when they found it. Our elder was awoken earlier than planned by an accidental encounter with the Humans that prevented our destruction by others. They did not know who we were, but in order to ascertain what had happened over the millennia before returning to V’kit’no’sat territory, the elder traveled to Terraxis to inspect the database in the defense station…where he confirmed that all our other plans to win the war had failed. We were the last hope remaining, and our existence was not even suspected. We had our anonymity, and with a bit of trust in the most elite Humans and some rewriting of their sensor records, our existence remains a secret. In exchange we unlocked the database for them and gave them full command over the planetary defense station. Beyond that we have had no contact with them and everything they have accomplished, including their discovery and acquisition of the Uriti, has been of their own doing.”

Tew’chor’s eyes widened with utter shock. “You are their sponsor!”

“No. They do not take orders from us, and their psionics are something they have developed on their own. They are outperforming the Zen’zat and we have been studying them closely to determine why, but we are not directing them. They kept my egg and others from being destroyed by primitives, so a debt was owed and paid. The fact that such help has led to the paranoia that is fracturing the V’kit’no’sat is a welcome irony.”

“And now you seek to blame the Era’tran for my death. Are you trying to collapse them now, or do you want them to survive and contain the Hadarak before you are able to replace them? You seem to be contradicting yourselves.”

“If they are even remotely competent, our small tampering will be nothing more than an annoyance. They managed to destroy our race, so we know they are not incompetent. Mak’to’ran is proof that they are reforming, as we knew they would. Their identity comes from their association with one another. Independent they would not function well, and their reluctance to fight all out wars with one another is proof of that. They know the Hadarak stand to surge forth if the V’kit’no’sat fall, and no matter how far the stupid amongst them have permeated, sanity will restore itself eventually. We have elevated them too far for them to topple so easily. It will take a far greater effort to do so, and we have not yet begun to try…”

It took several weeks to get to their destination, during which Tew’chor asked, and was asked, many questions. Odd bits of memories he had never known before kept popping up randomly, usually in response to something he saw onboard the ship or telepathic images sent to his mind from the others when words alone could not explain something. Of the things he’d learned was that much within the Zak’de’ron civilization mirrored the V’kit’no’sat…but that was because the V’kit’no’sat had mirrored them, with the Zak’de’ron being responsible for almost everything they had.

The other races had eventually begun to contribute some elements on their own, and the Zen’zat were one of them. The Zak’de’ron had done most of the genetic design, but it had been the Era’tran that pushed for their inclusion, having a confidence that the Zak’de’ron did not mirror initially, but once their inclusion began to show promise the elder race had taken Zen’zat for themselves and held them out exclusively…meaning theirs didn’t serve the empire, but rather the Zak’de’ron only. That had been a sticking point with the V’kit’no’sat, but the reason for the restriction was that the Zak’de’ron had trained their Zen’zat differently…and as a result they had uncovered more of their hidden psionics buried within their extensive genetic code.

The Humans on Terraxis were proving very good in hunting down these new psionics and the Zak’de’ron were using them to fill in huge chunks of research data on the Zen’zat, though they were not going to repeat their mistake with the V’kit’no’sat in any way, shape, or form. Tew’chor was convinced that they could go and recover Ter’nat and start their own Zen’zat population again if they wanted, but anything V’kit’no’sat seemed to be tainted for their civilization and despite the supposed great advancement by the Humans they were not doing their research for anything more than curiosity’s sake.

When the Zak’de’ron ship arrived at the ‘hive’ Tew’chor saw that it was a Mach’nel-sized vessel without the Yeg’gor armor or heavy defenses. Instead it was a mobile city in which the Zak’de’ron lived while moving about V’kit’no’sat territory…though staying away from any inhabited system. It moved through backwater jumplines where there was no surveillance while sending out Wur’ki-class vessels like the one Tew’chor had been retrieved by to do their closer surveillance.

The Zak’de’ron vessel melted against the side of the mass of lumpy hull that had multiple coils on it. Tew’chor wasn’t sure if those were docked vessels or part of the design, but there were no hangar bays to land in and no drop pods to cross over on. The ship simply docked with the hive and connected a corridor into it that the semi-Les’i’kron walked through and out into a mostly open air interior with huge columns rising up and crossing laterally that had several other races present…including a bipedal equivalent of the Zen’zat virtually the same size, but one with much lesser mental capacity.

“They are servants of the Zak’de’ron,” his escort told him as they took flight.

“You are recreating the V’kit’no’sat alliance with other races?”

“No,” he said firmly. “These are servants and will never be equals. We will not make the same mistake twice, but we coopted other races into our service before we created the V’kit’no’sat and there is no reason we will not do so now.”

“Those look like Zen’zat.”

“They serve the same purpose, but are not so far along in their development. They are known as Bo’ja, and come from a race called the Voku. They are useful where Ter’nat are not, but we are taking the cultivation of the Bo’ja slowly.”

“And the others here?”

“They all serve their purpose.”

“Security concerns?”

“All you see here stay here. They have pledged their lives to our service whereas their former races have not to a level that we can trust with the full truth of our existence. None know the name of Zak’de’ron, but we are known by other aliases. In order to regain our strength we are using other races, but we are not being reckless. We are hidden and we shall remain hidden.”

“And when the Humans are conquered?”

“They have not betrayed our confidence, nor have they shared their knowledge with the public. If they had we would already have intervened and removed it from them.”

The two dragons flew through the giant ship, weaving around what looked like floating buildings and between ‘vines’ that were connective tubes that allowed the Bo’ja and other non-flyers access to the heights. Nearly half the surface area inside the hollow was covered with plants and there was a light organic scent to the air that Tew’chor found refreshing.

“What is the vegetation for?”

“Supplemental food production so we don’t have to risk continuous supply shipments, along with other periphery uses. The oxygen content is high enough that we don’t have to cycle the air much. This way,” he said, giving Tew’chor a telepathic redirect to a plant-covered spire that looked the same as the others, but apparently this one was not, for when they landed there were more servants here than anywhere else along with many Zak’de’ron…all smaller than Tew’chor and red, with both facts signifying their youth.

But a powerful mind was nearby and walked out onto the large landing platform that rode beneath a roof that was the spire continuing upward. There was more than ample room to move or fly around, but technically they were now inside though missing any walls of significance in front and behind them. Coming out one of the side walls was another Zak’de’ron, but this one was a deep grey and larger than Tew’chor, with him immediately realizing that this was their elder Zeno’dor.

The two stared at each other for several seconds, then the elder dragon stood up on his rear legs and spread his massive wings out as wide as they could go before flapping them heavily in a mannerism that Tew’chor somewhat recognized, though it wasn’t something the Les’i’kron did.

“You are a work in progress,” Zeno’dor said bluntly, “but are Zak’de’ron at heart. With your permission, we will correct the rest and make you fully Zak’de’ron.”

Tew’chor recoiled slightly. “Meaning what?”

“A physical alteration and a cleanup of your mind. There is enough of you intact that we can restructure off of without you losing your identity.”

“And if I refuse?”

“The choice is yours, and the offer will stand permanently. We will force nothing on you. We wish only to help you.”

Tew’chor looked around, both visually and with Pefbar. “What have they done to us?” he asked, referring to the Les’i’kron.

“Hobbled you into a lesser form, but from your coloration they did not succeed in stripping all of the Zak’de’ron from you. You have partially emerged from their enslavement on your own arduous merits, and we are offering to bring you the rest of the way into the light of day.”

“To help you destroy the V’kit’no’sat?”

“We do not need your help with anything. There is little you can tell us about them that we do not already know. You are here because you are meant to be one of us and we could not stand leaving you to suffer with them.”

Tew’chor sighed, realizing that if he’d come this far there was no point in holding back. He had no power here and the Zak’de’ron could do with him whatever they wanted…but he was being treated as a guest and from the minds of those around him, mostly the servants, he could sense a great deal of respect and awe when they looked upon him.

“Very well,” he said, raising his tail and igniting his Saroto’kanse’vam, “but is there a way I can keep this?”

“That can be arranged, but you may not want it later. The choice remains yours.”

“I’ll keep it for now, but as one of you mentioned before, it seems I need my neck stretched a bit.”

“Nothing so crude as that, I can assure you,” the elder said with a touch of humor. “You are home now, brother. Be at ease and let us repair your body and restore your genetic knowledge. There is much of the Zak’de’ron you do not know, and that ignorance will be their last constraint upon on you.”

“Then let’s eliminate it now,” he said boldly, stretching out and flapping his own giant wings twice with confidence as he leapt up off the ground a couple of meters energetically. “I am tired of being ignorant. If I am meant to be one of you and the V’kit’no’sat are meant to be destroyed, then show me the full truth. I am tired of lies.”

“You will receive none of the latter here. Come inside and enter the regeneration chamber. It will take some sleep to enact the changes, but when you wake you will be fully Zak’de’ron…with your tail ornament kept intact.”

10

Tew’chor woke in stages, not knowing where he was but feeling that he had been asleep for a long time. He was laying down on a cold, hard floor that later became soft…or was that a failure of perception, for his mind was in a fog and clearing slowly. He knew better than to move yet, for already he was feeling odd, but as the seconds rolled by the oddness exploded into a myriad of strange sensations and even his thoughts felt different.

Soon the fog started to rapidly recede and Tew’chor opened his eyes…finding that his sight was now different. At first he thought it was an after effect, then a bit of genetic memory kicked in and he knew it was a different spectrum of light he was seeing. He raised his head a bit and his head exploded in new sensations as his neck moved in a way it had never done before.

That was because he now had more of it, and as he began to stir slightly, flexing muscles and curling his toes, he remembered why he was here and how the Zak’de’ron were going to make him more like them.

Easy brother, take it slow, he heard a voice speak into his mind. Breathe easy, you’ve been ascended to a level you’ve not experienced before. You will adapt, but there is a lot for your mind to process.

Tew’chor did as instructed, moving slowly and not attempting to stand for quite a while as his new reality hit him. His memories of the past remained, but what he was feeling now was as if a giant weight had been lifted off of him and he was finally able to see clearly. It wasn’t just the new genetic memory flooding his mind, but the way his thoughts processed. He was smarter and could feel it, though his body was very weak. That would pass in time, but what the Zak’de’ron had just done to him was more than making some genetic upgrades…Tew’chor felt like he had just been rehatched.

When he did stand it was on familiar legs, but his neck was now so long and supple he could turn his head completely around to look behind him where he saw his tail was now different too, but as promised his Saroto’kanse’vam were still there, though they didn’t look right.

“We made some upgrades,” the elder dragon said as he stood off to the side in the medical chamber, with the two of them being the only ones present. “It will not be such a weight now, though you may want it removed later. We are more agile than Les’i’kron and it will slow you down.”

“Later,” Tew’chor said, walking in a slow spin that had his neck leading and his tail following, though the two actually overlapped a bit. “This is unacceptable.”

“What is?”

“This is too much. How could they deny us this?”

“The Les’i’kron are tools to them. They did not even share an equivalent level. They wanted them subservient, but in truth they did not understand how much of a devolution they caused.”

“It is unnatural, not a devolution.”

“True.”

“This cannot stand. We must free the other Les’i’kron.”

“If it were possible we would. Search your memories.”

“For what?” Tew’chor said, igniting his Saroto’kanse’vam experimentally and seeing that the two tail spines now glowed a deep green.

“Gaps. We could not save everything. How much do you remember from before?”

Tew’chor did not respond initially, understanding that the task he was being asked to perform was not a simple matter. Finding a memory was one thing, but finding the lack of one was another…yet he knew what to do and tried to reconstruct a timeline and other forms of linked memory, finding most there but encountering some blank spots. There weren’t many, but there were indeed some things that he tried to remember but could not.

“Most.”

“The key to your transformation was the work you had done previously to free your own mind. The compromised sections had to be erased in order to be corrected. Unless the Les’i’kron can overcome from within the only way to save them would be to completely remake them. They would lose all memory and become adult hatchlings.”

“That would be preferable to their deaths. They deserve to be freed as I have been.”

“They will fight against us when the time comes.”

“We must find a way. They are victims of the V’kit’no’sat. I see that now clearly.”

“Good. But we cannot act in any overt way. Looking for others like you that have escaped their attention is our first priority. I assume you can help us with that?”

“Of course. What else would you ask of me?”

“You and I are the eldest. Even with your memory losses you have experience the others do not, and they have experience as Zak’de’ron that you do not, but your golden scales speak the loudest. You will be a valuable addition to our race once you get acclimated.”

“Valuable for what task?”

“Vengeance. But ours will be long in the making and what we eventually do must not destabilize the galaxy. We have a massive challenge before us.”

“How does Terraxis fit in?”

“It is being used by the V’kit’no’sat as a staging colony for the destruction of Star Force. We do not plan to intervene.”

“That is not what I meant. Gratitude is not sufficient for what you have given them. My memory says you also created a Zen’zat.”

“Completed, not created. They are already Zen’zat genetically, absent the growth enhancements. The one you speak of is the one who woke me. I owed her a debt.”

“But you have something more planned for them?”

“Perhaps. Right now they are in the process of being exterminated.”

“Not as fast as they should be.”

“Your genetic memory is serving you well, and you are adapting admirably.”

“I’ve always been a quick learner. You’re developing a number of lesser races to serve you, but not the Humans?”

“We are, Tew’chor. You are not Les’i’kron anymore. You are Zak’de’ron. Adjust your terminology.”

“Mirror.”

At his request the elder dragon caused a holographic wall to form that allowed Tew’chor to look at his new visage. His face had altered considerably, but there was enough familiar lines there that he could see the old him, as if it were the foundation for the new. He unfurled his wings, finding them altered as well. They were slightly smaller, but then that was appropriate given the fact that his mass was less than it was before…but what he felt inside them shocked him.

“Anti-grav?”

“Yes. The V’kit’no’sat removed it.”

Using a mix of genetic memory and improvisation, Tew’chor activated the tissue in his wings and the lesser bits across the rest of his body that were biological gravity drives, and without even flapping them once he rose up to hover in the air unsteadily as his balance was something he was going to have to work on, but a few small corrective flips of his wings leveled him off.

“Why do we have two methods of flying?”

“You will find out once you hit the open air.”

“Agility advantage?”

“That is understating the matter.”

Tew’chor landed again and pulled his wings back up against his body where the widely spread scales on the top side came back together to form an impervious wall that nearly hid their existence. His Les’i’kron wings had no scales on them and had always been a weak spot when on the ground, but now that too was not an issue.

“I...we have psionics the V’kit’no’sat do not?”

“Many. We wove some of them into the Zen’zat genetic code, activated only if they proved their worth. That is one advantage Star Force has. They have delved deeper and activated many. We do not know how they have made them so widespread, but they stated they had learned to ‘share.’ Regardless, they are tapping into the latent potential the V’kit’no’sat never did.”

“Our Zen’zat were different?”

“Yes. We kept them separate and they did earn greater ones under our direction.”

“And these Bo’ja?”

“In time they will replace the Zen’zat, if they prove their worth. You already have, to some extent, but there is a great deal more you need to learn beyond the genetic knowledge granted you. Know that no matter how many servants we acquire, we will always retain full command. Our attempt at sharing resulted in our destruction, and if some way cannot be found to transform the Les’i’kron we will not have any relationship with them. They are tainted abominations. Those servants we have here know their place, but the Les’i’kron may feel they deserve a higher status if they discover our link.”

“Yet I am here.”

“You have been saved. We do not expect they will be, and we cannot accept them as brothers in their current condition. At this moment, they are enemies.”

“Do you intend to fight the V’kit’no’sat directly or use an army of servants?”

“It is our war. We will fight it and they will serve us in that task. We will not sit back and throw them at the enemy.”

“Good. Tell me who now holds the Les’i’kron’s leash?”

“Their true history has mostly been lost to time, but it was a group of individuals from many races that conspired to subjugate them. Their alterations were meant to be self-governing, so in truth there is no leash save for the sad state of what they are now. You broke that leash, and with luck there may be another out there to find.”

“What would you have me do now?”

“Introspection and training. Your body is weak from the transition and you have new abilities to explore. After that you will learn what it means to be Zak’de’ron, and once you do you will take your place amongst us preparing for the day we reveal ourselves to the V’kit’no’sat and have our revenge. That will not be soon, and when we do there will be no going back. The war they think is long over will resume, and they will prosecute it until either we are dead or they are. We must prepare accordingly.”

“No option of surrender or subjugation?”

“They are V’kit’no’sat. They will not tolerate such things.”

“And if we make them?”

“Such things can be explored when we regain dominance, but do not expect any compliance.”

“I ask because the fight will be with those that had not yet hatched during the first war. Attitudes may be different.”

“The past will quickly be remembered, and the flaw of the V’kit’no’sat has not been eliminated. Their incessant desire for equity without merit poisons them.  They have not pushed further into the Hadarak since we left them. They are a living testament to failure that must be deleted.”

“And we must do so with enough strength remaining to hold back the Hadarak on our own?”

“You see the level of difficulty of the task before us?”

“I am beginning to. What of these altered Hadarak?”

“A mystery still, but one we have studied from afar. Three allies of Star Force have the ability to detect our ships at close range, so we have not been able to do a proper analysis, but whoever altered them did so long ago and was wiped out by a galactic revolt prior to us forming the V’kit’no’sat. They stayed beyond the Hadarak boundaries, so we have little knowledge of them aside from rumors. However they altered them is beyond our knowledge, but it is imperative that we sample one once the V’kit’no’sat manage to confront them successfully. We will not risk exposure by hunting one, and they are moving as a pack now. They will not become isolated. A major fight must occur to destroy them, then we will get some answers…if Star Force does not succeed in holding off such an assault. The internal conflict the V’kit’no’sat are enduring has resulted in them underestimating the threat of Star Force.”

“It is not that,” Tew’chor said, finally able to contribute something to his new civilization. “It is arrogance. They do not believe that Zen’zat alone could accomplish so much, so they send enough resources to topple more than what they expect, but their expectations are so low that there is much lost in the sloppy victories.”

“Battle will teach them eventually what their egos will not allow for in study. The stubbornness of the V’kit’no’sat has not waned. They will eventually go after the Uriti, and when they do we will be waiting and watching.”

“And if the V’kit’no’sat learn the secret to controlling Hadarak?”

“If the creators of the Uriti possessed such a secret they never would have been defeated. They have created mutants, not conscripted the current ones. Still, if the V’kit’no’sat discover something useful, we will act accordingly. There are ways to strike at them without revealing our identity and we could have done so already if we wished, but they must hold the line against the Hadarak for now.”

“So we study, plan, and prepare without hobbling them? Framing my death on the Era’tran could destabilize them further.”

“Less so than having no one to blame, and with the Les’i’kron firmly allied with the Itaru faction there will be no military reaction to the revelation, for they are defacto enemies at the moment, and the Era’tran are growing too bold. Undercutting their reputation is a side benefit that will not destroy them, but preserve a bit of disunity. We do not want them as strong as possible, just strong enough to give us the time we need to grow.”

“A dangerous game, that is.”

“We have a path forward and we will take it, no matter how dangerous.”

“I owe you my life. I do not fear the danger, and will walk it with you to whatever end may come.”

“Remember what they did to you. Never forget that, and let the rage fuel your commitment in the years to come. I have memory of the war to do the same, while the others do not. The V’kit’no’sat must be destroyed. Never let yourself think otherwise. Time passed does not diminish the necessity of their removal.”

“I need no further lecture. I understand now, as their treachery against me is laid bare. We will have our vengeance, I only ask that we find some way to help the others if possible.”

“If possible we will, you can be assured of that. And the Zen’zat?”

“They fought against us in the war?”

“Our own did not. All others did.”

“Why?”

“They chose loyalty to the group over loyalty to the dominant.”

“And the Ter’nat?”

“We do not care about the Ter’nat. They are so pathetic they are irrelevant.”

“Then return the Zen’zat to their origins…if they submit. If not, destroy them all for the work they have done. They may not lead, but that does not absolve them of what they do.”

“And the matter of your Zen’zat being killed?”

“I do not like wasting loyal servants. I would have preferred giving them a chance. If they refused, then that would be another matter.”

“I would accord our own servants the same lenience, but we could not risk bringing potential spies amongst us. Even a single message sent could reveal us, and we have no appetite for housing prisoners here. Yours is a clean break from the V’kit’no’sat, and from their servants.”

“Distasteful, but done now. I am fully with you.”

“Learn to fly again, then you may say that with pride,” the elder said as a doorway formed in the wall that led down a short corridor to the open air interior of the hive.

Tew’chor huffed and walked the length before perching on the edge. His wings were weak, he felt it, but he also had the flight psionic he now knew was called Yen’mer. Between the two he was confident he would not fall, but this was going to be a learning experience from the first wing beat.

Stepping off, he let himself glide downward sharply as he angled his direction and leveled off, then he began meekly flapping tender wings as he lifted part of his weight with his new psionic. It was crude flight, but the first he had ever made on Zak’de’ron wings and the first made with a clear mind. He had been reborn, and rightly so he had to relearn to fly, but aside from his weakness, that was not going to take too long to remedy for within a few minutes he had managed to produce level thrust from his Yen’mer and that allowed his wings to work their way into a rhythm.

Beat after beat he flew, flying in and around the columns and tendrils through the open air sections as he gained speed, feeling truly alive for the first time in his long life and relishing every breath he now took. The future lay open to him now, and dark as it may be with the unavoidable conflict looming, he would fly into it eagerly and grateful. His brothers had come to rescue him from a nightmare and he intended to repay them for that…as well as those who had created the nightmare in the first place.

And their payment for that would be massive.

www.aerkijyr.com

1

September 23, 3689

Jari’mot System (Oso’lon territory)

Kabot

When Mak’to’ran landed on the planet he immediately felt small. While most V’kit’no’sat worlds saw huge structures compared to the other races of the galaxy, those of the Oso’lon were the largest as befitted their size. Walking out of the dropship he passed by ranks of the quadrupeds in full armor who, if stretched out laterally, would be more than five times his height. That meant they liked to have a lot of room to spread out, but their head height was also greater than that of the Era’tran.

However, while that difference wasn’t too great, the Oso’lon had by far the most Ultras of any race, and in fact how many each had was strictly limited. The Oso’lon didn’t limit their own in such amounts, so despite the size of the guards he now strode between, Mak’to’ran could occasionally see the huge Ultras moving around the city on streets, stairs, satu, and other pieces of infrastructure built to accommodate them and all the smaller Oso’lon…but as he began to realize for the first time in his life, the Oso’lon didn’t actually have an Ultra division.

There were many different sizes, far wider in range than the Era’tran or any other race had. He doubted this was a recent development, meaning that the Oso’lon had been giving growth enhancements to more than just their Ultras or this was a natural progression of their biology left unchecked. Originally the Era’tran and many others would have kept growing to unlimited size, often with negative side effects.

That was why the V’kit’no’sat had made alterations to all races so they would grow to within a restricted range of size while allowing artificial growth enhancements to create a select number of Ultras. Now that he was here, it looked like the Oso’lon were not enforcing that edict on themselves and Mak’to’ran wondered how long this had been going on. It wasn’t possible that it had always been this way, otherwise the Era’tran and others would have found out, but then again none of them had, to his memory, been allowed access to this world. It wasn’t one of their capitols, but rather a private one where no other race had even a single diplomatic tie.

The Oso’lon had requested that he come here to conduct negotiations, and by the size of the fleet in orbit Mak’to’ran was beginning to suspect this world might be to the Oso’lon what Holloi was to the Era’tran. He was certainly at their mercy, despite the flanking Era’tran and pair of Hjar’at that were serving as his bodyguards, but these were Oso’lon…and one never truly had an advantage over them, even if you had superior numbers.

So Mak’to’ran walked amongst the longnecks relying on trust to keep him alive…trust and their need of him, for he was literally the single link holding the shattered pieces of the empire together in some semblance of order. If the Oso’lon killed him they’d be left on their own to hold back the Hadarak, a task that they could not possible shoulder despite the immense power of their race.

The temporary leader of the reforged V’kit’no’sat was led through the surface of the city before being taken underground…deep underground into chasms that were just as huge as the surface. So deep that they even entered areas where the rock was exposed on the walls and was causing waterfalls running over it to turn into steam from the planetary heat leeching through, giving the subsurface realm a permanent haze of humidity that translated into clouds in some places that dropped occasional bouts of rain.

In fact, the subsurface appeared to be more natural than the surface of the planet, including many of the ‘streets’ being nothing more than trails in the dirt. Some of those trails led into caves set into the walls, and when Mak’to’ran’s escorts led him into one he could feel the heat radiating off them. It wasn’t too much to tolerate, but it did tell him how close they were to the planetary core and how many miles of rock were now between them and the surface, making this location almost impervious to orbital bombardment.

The cave stretched out into a tunnel that eventually opened up into another huge chasm that was split like a ‘Y’ but with so much airspace that I’rar’et could have flown around freely. Mak’to’ran doubted they would be allowed in here, and as soon as they walked out past the cave exit the escorts stopped them and told him that only he could proceed further. His bodyguards must remain here along with them. Only Mak’to’ran could proceed to what they called the Sanctum.

Mak’to’ran huffed once at his Era’tran, not even bothering to send a telepathic message. The gesture was enough, and he slowly walked with heavy steps down a slight incline towards a river in the distance partially wrapped in trees as he followed the dirt path to the right, taking him out of sight of the others and leaving him alone for several minutes until he came to a purely artificial structure that sat across a bridge that spanned half the diameter of a small lake the river fed into. Above it was a huge vertical chamber with nooks in the walls that he recognized as being used by flyers, but there were none here. Everything appeared to be empty, but that was just an illusion.

It took him until halfway across the bridge to realize his Ikrid was being blocked, meaning he wasn’t able to sense any minds around him. It wasn’t another mind inside his doing the blocking, so he assumed it was a blanket technological effect that would also prevent telepathic communication. That hindered the V’kit’no’sat greatly, but it also suggested that this place was protected and Mak’to’ran felt that he was now walking on hallowed ground.

When he got across the bridge and entered the central structure he could see that it had no ceiling, but was a series of ramps and levels that were open to the air as well as having water channels cutting through it, including some curious water ramps that seemed to defy physics. Mak’to’ran tried to use his Pefbar to get a look at them but found it was also blocked, causing him to start to feel extremely vulnerable. He flipped on his Nakane and was glad to see his bioshields still functioned, so he still had that defense in addition to the armor he wore in retracted mode, but operating without his primary psionics was disconcerting.

The architecture of the site was funneling him towards the center in a way that allowed for other redirects but minimized them, making it clear there was only one important place to go, so Mak’to’ran allowed himself to be directed there without having any information about what he was supposed to be doing here. It was completely empty as far as he could tell, though without his psionics there could be someone behind any of the giant pillars and walls and he wouldn’t be able to tell until he saw them with his eyes.

The central island of artificial construction wasn’t overly large, so Mak’to’ran came to the epicenter soon enough and found himself standing in a triangular courtyard large enough to hold over a hundred Era’tran…but there was no one here. Mak’to’ran stood near the center and walked around a bit, looking and listening, but finding no trace of anyone.

“Why am I here?” he said loudly, with his voice echoing oddly off the surrounding bits of walls and columns that left many gaps at varying distances that made for a sniper’s paradise.

“To do what must be done,” a familiar voice said as one corner of the triangle depressed and was flooded, allowing the J’gar Didact to swim in and look at Mak’to’ran over the lip of the pool.

At the same time the footsteps of a large, but not quite Ultra Oso’lon turned Mak’to’ran’s head as the quadruped walked into the triangle from another entrance. It was dark brown in color with spots down its back and tail that were a mix of green and red, set into a pattern that was immediately recognizable as belonging to the leadership herd, though Mak’to’ran didn’t recognize this individual until he spoke, then the importance of this location became obvious.

“Mak’to’ran, leader of the new V’kit’no’sat,” the Oso’lon Primearch said, looking down at him from his head height that was twice the Era’tran’s as he walked over to another point of the triangle and the floor altered to produce a flat pad on which the Primearch then sat down on, looping his tail forward until it pointed parallel alongside his right flank. “Your work has not gone unnoticed, but what you ask of us is beyond your station. The Era’tran are not our equals.”

“Apparently we are your superiors,” Mak’to’ran bit out, drawing a shocked look from the Primearch. “For we followed protocol. You apparently have not.”

“Explain,” the Primearch said evenly as the Didact merely looked on as he floated on the water’s surface.

“You are not obeying size restrictions.”

“Those here are not required to,” the Didact answered. “There is no violation.”

“Are they designated as Ultras?”

“No,” the Primearch answered. “And there are things of the V’kit’no’sat that you are not aware. We cannot make everything public knowledge, including certain facets of protocol. There is too much at stake, and your being here represents how low we have fallen.”

“Enlighten me,” Mak’to’ran said, pacing slightly at the center of the courtyard.

“There are tiers of knowledge within the V’kit’no’sat. This you already know. What you do not know is that there are tiers beyond the Elder Conclave. The founding races of the V’kit’no’sat protect and secure the most sacred tier, upon which the future of the galaxy rests. The Era’tran, nor the Conclave, are privy to this tier. Only the elite Oso’lon and J’gar are, hence your being here violates protocol.”

“Events have altered protocol,” the Didact added, “thus you are here now. This is the place where the sacred tier functions, when necessary. As you have no doubt already noticed, there were once three,” he said as the third corner of the triangle opened up and a large but low perch was formed, obviously meant for the aerial counterpart that was the Zak’de’ron, now missing from the V’kit’no’sat.

“You are not a replacement for them,” the Primearch said. “Where we were less than them, you are less than us, but you are correct in asserting that there must be three again. Not because we are unable,” he said, glancing at the J’gar, “but because we are both implicated in a treason that appears to not exist. We cannot find it within either race, which is of some comfort, but without being able to find it we cannot expose it for others to see, thus suspicion remains and the empire persists in a fractured state while the Hadarak scout. They sense weakness, and I fear we will soon be engaged in a full war with them unlike we have seen since the fall of the Zak’de’ron…”

“And without their strength, we may not survive,” the Didact finished. “If we do not act, the V’kit’no’sat could be destroyed.”

“Along with the rest of the galaxy that we are sworn to defend,” the Oso’lon said, dipping his head slightly. “Your race is not ready, but you must become so as quickly as possible.”

“Then you agree?” Mak’to’ran asked skeptically, for the Oso’lon had refused to join the reforged V’kit’no’sat as the J’gar recently had.

“To your pathetic recreation of Itaru? For appearance sake only. The reforging of the V’kit’no’sat must occur here, and from here all else will flow. Where we were the inferiors to the Zak’de’ron, you will be the inferior to us in this triad, but we will not make the mistakes they did. You will be granted equity when you are able to grow into it. We will become three again, and the sooner we begin the process the better, but it will require a great deal of effort on your part…and not in terms of leadership. In terms of ascension. You must learn and grow, and that is not an easy task for those who are inferior.”

“Which is why we will guide you,” the Didact offered. “As fast as we are capable, if the Era’tran so agree.”

“You wish me to speak for them rather than for the V’kit’no’sat?”

“You never spoke for the V’kit’no’sat,” the Primearch verbally reprimanded him. “Your alliance is illegitimate without the Oso’lon and J’gar. We are the heart of the V’kit’no’sat, and without us it cannot survive. You must become the third heart.”

“This inner tier is worthless to the others if it is unknown,” Mak’to’ran countered. “It could not hold the empire together before, do not assume it can do so now. My reforged V’kit’no’sat are the key, and I will not discard it to repeat your mistakes.”

“To what do you refer, Era’tran?”

“Betraying the Zak’de’ron was a colossal mistake, and that mistake has poisoned the empire ever since. Terraxis merely accelerated the decline that was already seeping into the empire. Unless we address the root cause, we will carry that poison forward with us.”

“What do you suggest?” the Didact asked.

“Admit we were wrong. That we weakened the bonds of loyalty between us with that betrayal, and that in order to reforge those bonds we must do so without taint.”

“Taint is the only reason we are agreeing to this ascension,” the Primearch pointed out.

“V’kit’no’sat do not destroy one another,” Mak’to’ran said, with a small amount of ire working its way into his voice. “That is our deepest bond, and it was broken during the Zak’de’ron war. Then to make matters ever worse, you enslaved the Zak’de’ron by remaking them into the Les’i’kron. You labeled it a culling when it was not. Such deception stokes the poison eating away at us. We must be aboveboard in the reforging or we are doomed to failure.”

“Secrets exist for a reason.”

“Secrets and lies are separate entities,” Mak’to’ran lectured the Primearch. “And this is more about arrogance than anything else. You are not the Zak’de’ron, not even now, so stop pretending you are.”

“We made no such claims,” the Didact countered.

“You are impersonating them. Most of the coding in our equipment comes from them. You simply copied it without fully understanding it. We are still standing on their mantle and claiming it is our own. I know this, because the Era’tran have begun our own efforts to study and learn from the remnants of the Zak’de’ron. To aspire to attaining their level rather than faking it as you do.”

The Primearch stood up so fast that it was essentially a double thump of his legs as he got to his feet and sent a ripple of energy out towards Mak’to’ran…who met it with one of his own. The two Jumat waves met and canceled out, with Mak’to’ran activating his Saroto’kanse’vam and staring the larger Oso’lon down as his claws burned a fiery red.

“Arrogance corrupts you!” Mak’to’ran accused. “You horde psionics, territory, and secrets in a delusional attempt to pretend you are their equal. They consume you, and so long as that is the case you are unfit to lead the V’kit’no’sat.”

“We will see who is unfit, Era’tran,” the Primearch said as he activated his armor with a wave of green battle plates covering his entire body.

Mak’to’ran responded by activating his own armor, covering his body with blood red plates as the Oso’lon came off its pedestal in a confident, almost lazy manner as if it was going to intimidate the Era’tran into submission.

Mak’to’ran held his ground until half the distance elapsed, then he took off running as he pulsed a Jumat field around his body that he used to counteract the first blast the Oso’lon threw, but the second was much more powerful and knocked the Era’tran head over heels backwards, but he recovered quickly and gained several meters until the same two-hit encounter occurred again…then again and again, with Mak’to’ran getting knocked down but getting closer with each repetition.

When he was almost to the Oso’lon the larger V’kit’no’sat angrily abandoned the attack and pivoted in place, swinging his giant tail around so fast that Mak’to’ran nearly got hit, but with his years of high gravity training he was able to leap high enough to get over the slap and came down just shy of the right hip of the Primearch, grinding his armored feet into the ground as another Jumat blast hit him, but he clawed his way through it on sheer muscle power and got to the green armor where he encountered the Primearch’s shields.

His Jumat allowed him to press through slowly, taking several shots in the face from the hip-mounted weaponry, but in order to fire another Jumat blast the Oso’lon dropped them entirely, hoping to move him away, but a quick dig of his talons into the stone-like floor allowed Mak’to’ran to hold his place during the hurricane-like blast, then he surged forward and got onto the green armor where he began to slowly burn his way through.

Normally the Oso’lon would have also used its Lachka to pry him off, but with Pefbar being blocked that was not an option. He literally couldn’t see to use it, and Mak’to’ran was not going to let go of his hold on the right rear hip as he also fired energy blasts from his armor into it while taking the point blank shots from the Oso’lon’s own cannons.

Seeing his disadvantage, the Primearch rolled over, with Mak’to’ran unable to move that much mass. He had to let go, and when he did the Primearch threw another huge Jumat blast, far greater than Mak’to’ran could hope to emit, and knocked the Era’tran clear as the quadruped got to its feet and reestablished its shields.

“Enough!” the Didact roared in such a way that it broke the concentration of both Mak’to’ran and the Primearch before they could reengage. “Are you so insecure that a mere insult prompts you to fight?”

The Oso’lon was the target of the scorn and he turned his long neck towards the aquatic.

“Dominance must be maintained. These Era’tran do not know their place.”

“Nor do you, Oso’lon. Stand down,” he said, with the words literally reverberating in the water so much that ripples could be seen on the calm surface.

2

The Primearch whirled around, his anger now directed at the J’gar, but he didn’t attack him.

“And what is my place?” he asked, heavy with scorn.

“Here,” the Didact said simply. “Remember where you are standing, and remember that this above all places is where we should not be fighting one another.”

“He is unaware of the significance. His presence and his stupidity defile the Sanctum.”

“He was not the one who struck first, and the fact that he is still standing after exchanging several blows with you is proof of his worthiness. Now stand down.”

The Oso’lon blew out a gust of air through its nostrils, then reluctantly collapsed its armor back down into the thin, jewelry-like exoskeleton that ran the length of its spine.

“He speaks of protocol, yet his psionics are proof of his hypocrisy. He has taken those forbidden to him.”

“Forbidden by whom?” Mak’to’ran demanded, also retracting his armor now that the short battle had stopped. “Those who gave us the psionics in the first place were the Zak’de’ron, and betraying them goes far beyond breaking protocol. It is the single folly that continues to weaken us, and we must forever abandon it by recognizing our mistake and making amends.”

“Amends to who?” the Didact asked before the Primearch could respond. “The Zak’de’ron have been destroyed, and the Les’i’kron are nothing more than devolved cousins.”

“What is done cannot be undone,” Mak’to’ran said, looking back at the Oso’lon. “And there may have been some valid cause for the actions taken, but the breach of trust when we turned against the Zak’de’ron continues to poison us to this day, heightened even more by the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. If we can turn against our founders, then why should any race have confidence in our common bond? Why shouldn’t they be looking out to defend themselves against another such betrayal?”

“You were not even hatched when the Zak’de’ron were destroyed. Do not speak to me of events you did not witness.”

“I did not see much, but I was there at the end. And regardless of what secrets you keep, it matters not when the masses do not know them. They only see the betrayal, no matter how much rewriting of history you have done. Each act increases the poison that erodes our bonds, and the fact that I have amassed an alliance greater than your civilization is proof that the V’kit’no’sat want to be united. They cannot trust you or the J’gar, but they can trust me because I am untainted and I have a track record of loyalty, both to the V’kit’no’sat and the troops under my command. Your record is one of deceit. Are you so arrogant you cannot see that?”

“They are,” the Didact said, drawing a strong look for the Primearch.

“You had best explain that,” the Oso’lon said, clamping down on his reflexive anger until he had ample cause to act, for the accusation of the J’gar about the sanctity of this place was weighing heavily on his mind. He had crossed a line, but that did not excuse the actions of the Era’tran.

“You and I share respect across geography. You are of the land, we are of the water. The Era’tran are of the land, thus you see them as subservient. There is more competition between you than between us, and you do not see it. You expect them to obey you because they are of the land, yet you do not treat them as brothers. They may be lesser, but they are V’kit’no’sat. And I believe Mak’to’ran will agree that such treatment was part of the reason the Rit’ko’sor rebelled.”

“I cannot say for certain,” the Era’tran cautiously agreed, “but their aim was to hurt us. They knew they could not win, but that was not their point. They wanted to strike back.”

“And strike back at what?” the J’gar pressed, addressing the Oso’lon.

“You blame us for their betrayal?”

“We set a very good example for them to follow.”

“No. We succeeded in destroying the Zak’de’ron.”

“We had all the races helping us. They accomplished more on their own than any of us did singularly. They were far more powerful than we had given them credit for, despite the fact that they violated protocol to amass such numbers. The Era’tran is correct. The deeper poison within us is distrust. Terraxis is born from it. It is not the original source.”

“We did what was necessary at the time. I do not regret it.”

“Nor do I,” the J’gar agreed. “But we must own the aftermath, not deny it.”

“And you think that elevating the Era’tran will solve this?”

“No. The distrust will remain. We must make new bonds to replace those that were broken,” the Didact said, looking at Mak’to’ran. “We cannot do that quickly, but quick action must be taken. He is the temporary bandage that we must work beneath, but if we do not create the necessary bonds here and now, all other efforts will be fraudulent, which is why I find your position untenable.”

“We must become the Zak’de’ron,” Mak’to’ran added. “We must strive to attain their level. The Era’tran have already begun to do this, though we are far from achieving it.”

“What are you talking about?” the Oso’lon asked suspiciously.

“Secret projects, many of which I was not made aware of until recently. Usurping the mantle of the Zak’de’ron is not sufficient. We must earn it. If we do not, then we will never replace them and their void will haunt us.”

“You claim knowledge that the Oso’lon do not possess?”

“Some, yes.”

The Primearch looked at the J’gar. “What do they have?”

“Bits of research that even we have not attempted. It is not much, but it is a start. And with our assistance it will grow. Our three races must create in secret what we have claimed to possess in arrogance while he leads us.”

“The V’kit’no’sat do not have a leader,” the Primearch lectured with venom. “It goes against our very structure.”

“One race being destroyed rather than culled goes against our very structure,” Mak’to’ran spat. “We cannot rest on the accomplishments of the past. Your legitimacy is gone. We must take from the past what is valuable and adjust as necessary as we plot a course into the future…as I have already been doing.”

“He does not know all he should,” the Didact cautioned, “but he is the only hope for a quick reconciliation. It is not sufficient, but it will buy us time to reforge the unspoken bonds and attain the level of the Zak’de’ron in truth to match our lies.”

“We never should have lied in the first place,” Mak’to’ran added. “Keeping secrets is one thing, but lying puts a level of distrust between us. We must be bonded as a single civilization, not an alliance of races. The Zak’de’ron cemented that bond because they elevated us all. Now that they are gone, we must forge a new common bond.”

“You? I find that incredibly lacking.”

“No. I am temporary. An equity must be established, and one piece of that is allowing individuals of merit a pathway to additional psionics similar to the structure of the Zen’zat. One’s race will not hold them back from greater power, but one’s race will still set their default psionics.”

The Primearch looked at the J’gar. “You are in agreement with this?”

“The benchmarks are in question. The premise we agree with.”

“You wish to allow other aquatics Saroto’kanse’vam equal to your own?”

“We are not so fearful of it as you.”

“Such additions will unbalance the empire. That you should fear, J’gar.”

“What empire?” Mak’to’ran asked. “The old V’kit’no’sat have been destroyed. Do not delude yourself to believe otherwise. Cling to it, and it will only crumble further. You no longer control Itaru. That alone should be proof enough of the destruction.”

“Those traitors will be dealt with in time. Right now our primary responsibility is to hold back the Hadarak.”

“And how will you deal with them? Fight a costly war that will weaken all? That is not a solution.”

“It is a solution,” the Oso’lon disagreed. “Just not an inviting one.”

“You still distract from our true purpose. The Hadarak are not an inconvenience. They are the reason we exist. We have not taken a Hadarak world in recent memory. Why?”

“You know how costly such invasions are. You have fought them directly. Do you not already know the answer?”

“The answer is because the Zak’de’ron are no longer leading. Those who usurped them are, and they do not hold the Hadarak as their primary focus.”

Mak’to’ran and the Primearch stared each other down after that, with no telepathic interaction due to the inhibiting fields that blanketed the Sanctum, and the J’gar let them continue without interruption until the Oso’lon finally broke the silence.

“You are unfit to lead, but there is some wisdom in your words.”

“The only leading I wish to do is where necessary. If the Elder Conclave does its job, I will not have to be seen or heard. I will be on the Hadarak front leading a renewed invasion as we were meant to do. Fighting the Hadarak is the purpose that binds us together. When we destroyed the Zak’de’ron and abandoned that mandate we were instantaneously fractured.”

“Neglected the mandate,” the Didact corrected. “Not abandoned. Had we done so, I have no doubt the Oso’lon fleets would be pummeling Era’tran worlds right now.”

“Possibly,” the Primearch added, matching the slight sarcasm in the Didact’s words. “But your point is taken. We do not, however, have the strength to resume invasions of the Hadarak. We are barely holding them at bay as it is.”

“Which is why we must unite through new bonds, not conquest,” Mak’to’ran pressed. “To preserve as much of the old empire as we can while we forge the new one…which I have already been doing.”

“We must continue his work,” the Didact agreed. “But it will take all three of us. Era’tran, J’gar, and Oso’lon.”

“We are still short aerial leadership. The Les’i’kron cannot take the place of the Zak’de’ron.”

“We do not need an aerial,” the Didact countered. “We need dominance. Two land dwellers of great power working together is a sign of dominance rather than subjugation and conflict. That will do more for unity than preserving geographical divisions, and the methods Mak’to’ran have been employing are working. We must learn from and expand on them as he and the Era’tran are enlightened as to what the V’kit’no’sat truly are.”

“What we are is broken,” the Oso’lon admitted, “and not because of recent events. The Zak’de’ron promised equity and never delivered, and the way they advanced us made us dependent on them. When we tried to take their place we had…difficulties.”

Mak’to’ran frowned, sensing there was more behind his words than the obvious.

“Specify.”

“They maintained balance in ways we did not understand,” the Didact answered. “The wars we fought after they were gone were no accident. They had established alliances and agreements with races beyond the V’kit’no’sat, and their mere absence caused chaos. They were holding together the galaxy in ways we did not know, and still do not fully understand. We initially did not press against the Hadarak because we were trying to clean up the inadvertent mess we created when we eliminated them.”

“But more than that,” the Primearch continued, “the way they treated the races within the V’kit’no’sat was not obvious. They held dominance in defiance of their promises, but they also managed to suppress the internal divisions. When they were eliminated the V’kit’no’sat became unstable and we were forced to take measures to try and preserve the illusion of unity so that we did not collapse in the aftermath. We have found that our skill in holding the V’kit’no’sat together is not the equal of those that created the empire, but if we admitted that it would only spur more rebellion.”

“What is this place?” Mak’to’ran asked.

“This is where the Zak’de’ron forged all our races. It is the birthplace of the V’kit’no’sat and where the leaders of all races conducted the most sensitive research. This is the heart of the V’kit’no’sat while Itaru is the operational center, and it is where the Zak’de’ron told us the truth of the Hadarak.”

Mak’to’ran’s head came up. “What do I not know about them?”

“That they cannot be defeated,” the Oso’lon said firmly. “They can only be contained.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You were not meant to. The empire had to believe it was possible in order for us to retake what the Hadarak had claimed, but the heart of their territory is a place we cannot go. We can never defeat them with finality, but if we hesitate, if we do not pursue them vigorously, the attrition will wear us down and they will eventually spread again, undoing all we have worked for. The V’kit’no’sat must believe that there is a way to end them, otherwise we will not fight hard enough to contain the menace.”

Mak’to’ran paced to the right a few steps, then flipped his tail around as he walked back, creating a long circle before he looked at both the J’gar and Oso’lon.

“That was the balance that was lost. They maintained the illusion so we would be focused, but once you realized the truth you were not so eager to waste resources on a hopeless effort. That is why we have not continued to take worlds from them, because there is no chance of ultimate victory. They created us to do their fighting for them, for they could not have the same zealotry while knowing the truth. They needed us…they needed both of you…to remain ignorant and committed.”

“Else the Hadarak would resurge and we would be destroyed or forced to flee to the rim,” the Didact admitted. “They told us what we needed to know, not the truth. We did not have the strength of will to face the truth, but we did have the strength of will to pursue a distant victory. They maintained the illusion to get us to do what was necessary where honesty would have failed. They required us to be inferior, and had they shared their full knowledge with us we would have become unable to fulfill our purpose.”

“The V’kit’no’sat cannot be a union of equals,” the Oso’lon said firmly. “We inherited a lie, and we have not had the same success with it as the Zak’de’ron did. They were master manipulators, and our proclivity to equality has proven to be disastrous in their absence. We have assimilated some of their methods, but we are not them. The best we could do was try to hold the empire together and keep the Hadarak from regaining any additional territory. We are ill suited to press further into them knowing that there can be no final solution.”

“Why?” Mak’to’ran demanded. “Why is the final solution impossible? Do you assume the Zak’de’ron knew everything? Perhaps the solution lies beyond even them. They are gone. This is our galaxy to defend now, so we do not need to follow in their footsteps. We can hold the line…that has been proven. We can take worlds from them, regardless of the cost. It is simply a matter of patience and consistency. That leaves the question of a final solution. The Zak’de’ron may have lied to us, but it was a lie that encouraged us rather than weakened. It was a way to make us stronger, so tell me, after we had pushed into the deep core what would they have done?”

“Hold the line there,” the Didact answered.

“Do you know that for certain? How do you know if you discovered all of their plans?”

“We found enough records to indicate why they created the V’kit’no’sat initially,” the Primearch said with a deep sadness. “It was a promise based on a lie, and one created to make use of our naivety.”

“But it succeeded,” Mak’to’ran pressed. “The Hadarak have been driven back. Forget the Zak’de’ron then. We are the V’kit’no’sat. Perhaps created by a lie, but a lie we have made into a reality. If the Zak’de’ron did not think the Hadarak could be defeated, then our path forward is clear. We must not only rise to the level of the Zak’de’ron and assume their mantle, we must exceed them in order to find the final solution to the Hadarak. If you assume that is not possible then you are admitting they are forever superior to us.”

Mak’to’ran looked at both individuals who were far older than him, only now realizing the burden they had been carrying. It had been poisoning them, this lack of hope. This betrayal of purpose. And now he saw how essential not only the Era’tran were, but that he was in the future of the V’kit’no’sat.

“I will lead,” he said firmly. “Not because I am wiser, or elder, or superior. But because I have not lost hope. The Hadarak are strong and numerous, but they are not immortal. They can be eradicated from the galaxy. How to do that we do not yet know, but the answer lies out there for us to find. The purpose of destroying the Hadarak bound us together before and it will do so again now…only this time it won’t be a lie. The others need not know of the Zak’de’ron’s treachery. Let them remember the promise they made of one day destroying the Hadarak, but we three must admit to ourselves that there is a chance, even if it is a small one, of ultimate victory. You do not have to lead the search for it, I will, and in that function I alone will replace the Zak’de’ron.”

“You will facilitate the lie?” the Primearch asked. “And hope that we will fall prey to it again?”

“No,” Mak’to’ran said flatly. “I admit that we are currently inferior to what the Zak’de’ron were, but I do not assume that we will forever be inferior. The Era’tran are working now to catch up to where they were. If and when we get there, do you assume we will simply accept that parity and not press forward? We are V’kit’no’sat, we live and breathe dominance, so start acting like it. If we are not dominant now we must become dominant in truth. Abandon the lies and set yourself on the course to attaining the strength you pretend to now possess, then when we actually accomplish it we will do something the Zak’de’ron never did.”

“We will actually try to destroy the Hadarak once and for all,” Mak’to’ran said with such sincerity a part of him was surprised when the words were not etched into the stone beneath his feet.

The Primearch and the J’gar exchanged glances.

“He believes, but is it based on a lie or a potential truth?” the Oso’lon asked.

“We cannot be sure of a potential outcome, but I think he is right in assuming we don’t have to be. We must be loyal to the cause of pursuing it with no promise of success.”

“If we only act when the outcome is certain, then we are cowards,” Mak’to’ran pressed. “The bold venture into unknown territory willingly and seek out challenge. Defeating the Hadarak is the greatest challenge within the galaxy, and if we knowingly accept that where the Zak’de’ron did not, then we will be superior to them in that respect. Not out of ignorance, but by simply making the choice to pursue it to our eventual victory or demise, no matter how many millions of years it may take.”

“There is much he still does not know,” the Primearch said evenly.

“Yes,” the Didact agreed. “But I find myself with a tiny glimmer of hope once again. The Hadarak are not immortal. We may not be able to defeat them, but they can die. And if they can die, then it is possible to find a way to make it happen. It is so small of a possibility that I cannot bring myself to pursue it, but I am curious. Why are you so determined?”

“I have spent most of my life in combat, and my loyalty has never failed. You may think it was loyalty to a lie, but it was not. It was loyalty to a cause. If the Zak’de’ron abandoned that cause then good riddance to them. The cause still exists, and we will pursue it to our victory or destruction. That is what the V’kit’no’sat are. That is our identity. It is my identity, and I will not betray it…nor will I betray any other with the same identity. That is our bond, and I will not abandon it.”

“Heresy has its advantages,” the Primearch said, referring to Mak’to’ran and the Era’tran. “Their boldness has not been diminished.”

“And that is what we need. Our goal has become containment and preservation of the empire. That must be accomplished in order to pursue the destruction of the Hadarak. We can focus on the latter while he leads the efforts to search for the means to do the impossible. I believe that is a workable balance for us here. Do you concur?” the Didact asked.

“Problematic, but workable,” the Primearch mostly agreed. “But I wonder if his zeal will fade with further information.”

“The greater the challenge, the more dominance is required to overcome it,” Mak’to’ran quipped. “And I seek to continually become more dominant.”

“So be it,” the Primearch said with finality. “This will not be an easy melding, but it is a path forward where we have had none. The Oso’lon will do our part while preparing for your failure. Preservation of the empire and holding the line is our priority.”

“Not all need to lead,” Mak’to’ran advised. “I will personally accept this responsibility and cause. If there is a way to defeat the Hadarak, I will find it.”

“And we will strengthen the V’kit’no’sat so that if you find a solution we will be in a position to enact it,” the Didact concluded as the perch on the third point of the triangle disappeared into the floor and a pedestal smaller, but otherwise identical to what the Oso’lon stood on, appeared. “Take your place, Era’tran.”

Mak’to’ran huffed agreeably, setting his mind and very core to the quest before him, and walked over to the symbolic place of parity, seeing the symbol for the Era’tran emblazed on top of the cushioned pad when he stepped up onto it and spun around, looking out at the other two across the center of the triangular courtyard.

“Now,” he said, settling into his place. “Tell me what else I need to know about the true V’kit’no’sat.”

3

October 5, 3692

Jari’mot System (Oso’lon territory)

Kabot

It took 3 years of negotiations, updates, revelations, and internal wrangling between Mak’to’ran, the J’gar, and the Oso’lon before they announced that the Oso’lon were joining the J’gar in the reforged V’kit’no’sat. They were not returning to Itaru, for that region was still not obeying anyone, but they publically joined the Conclave in Vviot, instantly giving it a legitimacy that now rivaled Itaru.

There were still Oso’lon and J’gar in Itaru, some of which were not totally in allegiance with the rest of their race, but they’d never completely severed themselves. More of a ‘agree to disagree’ situation while their combined fleet was busy holding the Hadarak front. The arrogant in their ranks were still there and helping their brethren carve out a larger and larger chunk of the most populous region within the old empire, but now that both the J’gar and Oso’lon civilizations had joined Mak’to’ran’s alliance there was suddenly a split into which everyone else immediately fell.

Those suspicious of the J’gar and Oso’lon went separate ways. Some trusted Mak’to’ran and accepted his leadership so long as the Oso’lon and J’gar didn’t supersede him, while others saw the joining of those two races as an admission of combined guilt, which drove them towards Itaru. None of the worlds already in Mak’to’ran’s alliance left, but many in the Non-Aligned Confederation abandoned their neutrality and loosely aligned with Itaru out of fear of being overpowered by Mak’to’ran’s now dominant forces.

The rest of the NAC remained independent while pieces started cautiously talking with Mak’to’ran...while keeping their distance from the Oso’lon and J’gar. They demanded an explanation as to the source of the Terraxis treason and Mak’to’ran answered honestly that he did not know, then cited that the only way to figure out who the traitors were was to draw them out by forcing their hand. If they wanted to destroy the V’kit’no’sat then a reforging of the empire was something they couldn’t let occur, so Mak’to’ran was going to put the pieces back together while waiting for them to strike. If the J’gar or the Oso’lon were at fault, it would be easier to identify the traitors when they took new actions against the V’kit’no’sat rather than trying to investigate a past buried so well many doubted that the continued eradication of Star Force would ever produce the answers they sought.

A decent portion of the NAC accepted his plan and rejoined what was now considered by many to be the legitimate empire, while the bulk of the NAC held off and negotiated with Mak’to’ran terms for them to stay independent and neutral while Itaru was becoming actively hostile and territorial. Several small worlds in their region that chose to join the V’kit’no’sat were assaulted and Mak’to’ran had to face off against the Itaru faction for the first time…and they weren’t using stun weapons.

It was the beginning of a very bloody and, he feared, long war…but he could not and would not abandon the loyal systems no matter where they lay within the galaxy. So fight they would.

As that was ramping up the integration and elevation of the Era’tran continued. Mak’to’ran now had enough senior military commanders that he could trust to follow orders and skilled enough to not require his direct oversight, so as the fight with Itaru began in a handful of systems in or near their claimed territory, Mak’to’ran was bouncing around the former empire’s territory and stitching back together more and more pieces of it while the rest of the Era’tran began to take over the leadership triad duties from him.

That was why Hamob was now arriving on Kabot along with many other high level Era’tran and a small defense fleet. Normally the Oso’lon defended this system in their entirety, but with so many key Era’tran being gathered together in the same place concessions had been made. The J’gar likewise had a small defense fleet here, but the bulk of the ships and population remained Oso’lon.

As Hamob walked along with a handful of other Era’tran across the bridge into the Sanctum he marveled at the serenity and quiet importance of a place he had never knew existed prior to Mak’to’ran’s summons and subsequent report. Much had been hidden from the Era’tran that was now being revealed, prompting him and others to come here and deal with it directly while Mak’to’ran continued to be the symbol of the reforging and out doing visible things to further it. Meanwhile Hamob would remain on Kabot indefinitely as he negotiated, conferred, and learned from his Oso’lon and J’gar counterparts.

The Oso’lon and J’gar had been hiding much from them, and based on what Mak’to’ran had already told him there was a leadership vacuum that had been covered up for a long time. That would have to be replaced with action, and he honestly didn’t know how the Oso’lon and J’gar were going to respond to him. He’d had extensive contact with both races, but this hidden inner core to the V’kit’no’sat was something else entirely. Hamob wasn’t sure what he’d find, but he was going to discover the nature of it today.

When he got across the bridge to the artificial island there were already dozens of others present, gathered in clumps at various locations, but Mak’to’ran had told him to go to the center courtyard and report to Min’gar, who was acting as Mak’to’ran’s second and defacto ambassador from the Era’tran. Hamob found him and two others mingling with a pair of Oso’lon when he entered, then spotted a J’gar on the other side when vision allowed, for this entire area was covered in psionic dampening fields that limited his abilities considerably.

“This is the one I spoke of,” Min’gar said when he saw Hamob approach. “I think you will be surprised by our progress.”

“That remains to be seen,” one of the Oso’lon said as he looked down at Hamob with his tiny, high head. “What secrets of the Zak’de’ron have you uncovered that you believe we have not?”

Confrontational already, it seemed. This was not going to be pleasant, but it had to be done. The Era’tran had to come forward with what they’d learned and put the Oso’lon and J’gar in less of a dominant position…but he doubted they were going to take the news well.

“Much,” Hamob said neutrally as he walked up next to his kin and triggered an arm gauntlet to produce a hologram between them and the Oso’lon detailing the list of secrets he’d kept safely confined to himself and a few select others.

Two years later…

The Timrit System was a mess. What has used to be four planets were now two and the pieces of the others scattered in erratic orbits around an average yellow star that had a fleet of J’gar ships guarding it. There was no local population. Not on the planets, not in any space stations, nothing but the warships and a scattering of remote sensors placed in innocuous places around the system that linked in to the Urrtren.

The two planets were lifeless and cratered, but had once been lush with life and home to a Lir’nen colony before the Zak’de’ron were overthrown. In the aftermath the colony had been lost along with other territory as the Hadarak took advantage of the V’kit’no’sat’s internecine and pushed out against their severely weakened fleets. This system hadn’t been hit by them previously, rather one of those that had been skipped over in the masses of star systems in near the core of the galaxy, but ever since that renewed push Timrit had been a highway for the Hadarak. No one knew why, but it was one of their major jumpline connections to the nearby region that sat on the front of inhabited and heavily fortified systems the V’kit’no’sat owned and operated while keeping their population sparse.

The fleet here was meant to scare off any Hadarak trying to move beyond, and if necessary fight them here rather than over an inhabited world. Long ago the pair of destroyed planets had been victimized by the Hadarak, but had it not been for cleaning efforts the system would have seen the remains of numerous Hadarak and hundreds of thousands of V’kit’no’sat warships from past skirmishes. It was not believed that the Hadarak could communicate across the stars other than via courier, and it was from monitoring their movements and history that it had been concluded that they operated on probes.

Every so often combat would be initiated to probe for weaknesses, and to do that a Hadarak would move out into contested territory. If they encountered enough resistance they would retreat. Too little and they’d win, settling down and claiming the system. But if there was no one to fight they would simply move through to other regions, so fleets like this one were put here to stop their progress, either by winning or losing fights, and to plug holes on the front to keep the Hadarak bottled up to predictable jumplines…otherwise, with so many stars in the galaxy, they’d never be able to contain them.

When the Hadarak came there was plenty of warning, for its jump was at such a slow speed the V’kit’no’sat sensor stations that were sending out constant beams along the popular jumplines could get reflective bounces hours in advance before they thinned out so much to be useless. As soon as Hadarak was detected on approach the J’gar fleet reported it through the Urrtren and moved to the jumpline to wait for it, knowing that they had to hit hard and fast before it had a chance to recover. Slinging its mass from star to star took a great effort, and even though it wouldn’t mind smashing into the star at slow speeds it couldn’t survive a high velocity impact.

They also needed to provoke it into coming after them rather than submerging into the star, so having their ships at the jumppoint was strategic for multiple reasons. The J’gar commander knew they were in for a nasty fight, even if they’d had twice the number of ships they currently had, but it wasn’t until the Hadarak arrived did they know that this was no normal probe. The Hadarak in question was large…far larger than the small ones that normally did the probing, measuring larger than a Mach’nel and massing so much it was literally a small planet 429 miles in diameter around the center, but this one was elongated an additional third and an easy silhouette to recognize.

The V’kit’no’sat computers tagged it as one they had encountered before, cataloged as #729, and one not seen since the Rit’ko’sor rebellion. It was a tier 3 Hadarak and more than a match for the J’gar fleet, but they were going to have to hit it hard enough to make it stop here. Retreating would only allow it to move on to another system, so a bloody deed was going to have to be done this day, and the J’gar commander was cursing the current state of the empire for leaving them with so few ships, most of which were going to have to go to their deaths just to buy time.

When the Hadarak slowed it came under immediate fire by the combined fleet, but it did not stop. It moved straight through them down into the outer layer of the star as if they were inconsequential. That was odd, but the J’gar commander soon realized the truth of the matter as the jumpline sensors, now clear of the mass of the Hadarak, were detecting another mass approaching a few minutes out.

That meant there were two Hadarak entering the system, meaning this was not a probe or a search for resources. They only traveled in pairs with a purpose, so the J’gar commander immediately ordered his fleet to back off. They couldn’t put up enough resistance on their own to force the Hadarak to plant themselves here, so any meaningful fight would require reinforcements…and many of them. He ordered a strafing barrage on the second Hadarak as it passed them by, intent on putting a few scratches into it while they could before it could unfurl and come after them, but he soon reversed that order and initiated an immediate retreat from the system.

For there was yet another mass on the jumpline behind the second, meaning there were now three Hadarak entering the system…at least.

This wasn’t a probe or a colonization attempt. This was a full blown invasion, and when the remote sensors finally reported in the final numbers it was not three, nor four Hadarak, but five. They all dipped into the star for a quick recharge, then encountering no resistance they moved on, jumping out again in sequence and breaking the front the V’kit’no’sat had held for millennia without having to fire a single shot.

4

January 21, 3695

Artos System (Brat’mar Regional Capitol)

Stellar Orbit

Mak’to’ran had just entered the system enroute to meet with the largest chunk of independent Brat’mar in the NAC for discussions involving their eventual return to the V’kit’no’sat when the warning came through the Urrtren.

The Hadarak front had been breached, and not one, but five were past the monitoring line heading who knew where. Four tier 1s and a tier 3…with the tier 3 being one he had personally fought against and driven off in the past.

And drive them off was about all they could do, for killing a Hadarak was almost impossible. They would take heavy damage before retreating down into a star or making a slow jump to another system, denying the V’kit’no’sat the kill in almost all situations. Then they’d heal up and come back years later, as this one was now, though it was measuring an additional 42 miles in diameter since the last time Mak’to’ran had fought it.

Reading through the information his anger snapped, as did his tail, with it crushing the console behind and to his left on the command deck with a Zen’zat scurrying out of the way just in time to miss being hit. The Era’tran tipped his head back and bellowed a long high-pitched reverberation of a roar that had the Zen’zat covering their ears as Mak’to’ran let loose the emotions surging forth within.

This was the cost of the arrogant. They had weakened the V’kit’no’sat with their internecine to the point that the Hadarak had sensed a change. 5 in one group was no accident. They were here to push and push hard, and Mak’to’ran doubted they would be the only ones. When word spread amongst them more would come and hit different locations, starting a wave of attacks that even the unified V’kit’no’sat would not be able to hold at the line of containment. Breaches would occur and planets would be lost before they could damage them enough to turn them back…but in their weakened state it was possible that the Hadarak might permanently claim territory.

If that happened, their boldness would grow beyond measure and they’d start coming out of the core by the thousands. This could be the beginning of the end, and all due to the incompetent fools that didn’t deserve the name of V’kit’no’sat.

Mak’to’ran had no more time. They had to push back and push back hard now, and that meant stripping fleets from strongholds across his territory. If the arrogant attacked them once that happened…

But Mak’to’ran had no choice. He had to bring the full might of his reforged V’kit’no’sat to bear…but he wasn’t going to abandon the loyal worlds currently under assault by Itaru. Those fleets he’d sent to defend/rescue them would not be pulled off their mission, but every other major fleet was going to be called in to the front immediately.

“Take us out of the system,” he ordered as he mentally connected to the ship’s systems and composed the message that would rally the might of his reforged V’kit’no’sat against this invasion. “Maximum speed. The Hadarak are upon us and we must respond with without delay. They are testing our weakness, and if we cannot sufficiently match them the empire will fall and the galaxy with it. Inform the Brat’mar, and tell them I expect every loyal V’kit’no’sat world to send ships to assist us. If we fail, I do not expect to live long enough to punish them for their disloyalty. The Hadarak will do that in due time,” he said ominously as his crew listened and obeyed, but with a deathly silence hanging over the ship.

They knew the implications of what he had said and ordered. They’d barely survived the invasions following the Zak’de’ron War, and the empire then had been much larger than it was now.

The Hadarak moved through two additional systems, one uninhabited and another populated by 3.4 billion non-V’kit’no’sat. The Hadarak did not target them nor any of the planets in the system, merely passing through to get to the Iesclak System where there were two planets heavily populated by the Zep’sha. The long necked cousins to the Oso’lon had been given this system because of their ability to heavily fortify it, but they did not have a large fleet present…at least not as large as necessary…and the over 26,000 starships present only contained 4,038 warships.

Plus planetary and system defenses, which were tailored specifically to fighting the Hadarak, among which were Teo’naq weapon platforms located in low stellar orbit that drew a significant portion of their energy from the star itself. That energy was harmless to the Hadarak, but once transformed within the Teo’naq stations became Arsuen…a rare type of energy that wasn’t as effective against traditional targets as an Ardent or Tar’vem’jic, but one that reduced the energy absorbent nature of the Hadarak’s outer shell.

It wasn’t very effective, but nothing was against the beasts. It was better, and knowing that the Teo’naq would be destroyed they had constructed them for remote control with little defenses, maximizing their attack power while knowing that they could not survive weaponsfire from the Hadarak minions for long enough to be useful. Hence they were the biggest sticks in the Zep’sha arsenal, and the system has some 9,392 of them in total, each measuring 7 miles wide and 52 miles long.

When the Hadarak arrived they moved, capable of travel significantly faster than the Hadarak themselves but slow compared to warships, and aligned their needle-like profiles tip first towards the first of them as it braked against the star’s gravity.

Brilliant blue beams encased within green auras leapt out and hit the tier 3 Hadarak repetitively, digging shallow furrows into its pale black ‘skin’ that was harder than Yeg’gor armor and yet somehow still flexible, evidenced by the warping of its elongated shape as it decelerated shy of the star and angled slightly off centerline in order to move towards the Teo’naq and the defense fleet firing from behind the system defenses.

Before the second Hadarak arrived the first began to unfurl. It’s shape warped enough that huge enclosures split open, exposing weaker internal areas that the V’kit’no’sat targeted, but even those were rock hard and absorbed a great deal of weaponsfire as huge chunks of the Hadarak shot out and began to free-fly. They were targeted by the V’kit’no’sat immediately and began to break up…but not all of it was weapons damage. The tightly packed globs of Hadarak material were pulling apart on their own merits and spreading out into Cov’ri, a type of Hadarak minion equivalent to a small starship and capable of speeds their parent could not approach.

They were faster than most of the V’kit’no’sat ships and raced towards them and the Teo’naq, not firing any weapons but intending to ram. Many were shot down, but about a third made it to their targets and smashed into shields, bypassing the countermeasures against collision due to the energy fields they were emitting. They negated the dampening shields the V’kit’no’sat typically used to prevent collisions and allowed the Cov’ri to hit the hard shields, weakening them as the globs of tissue broke but didn’t fracture. They smooshed against the V’kit’no’sat ships, now unable to move on their own, but transitioning to their primary function.

They became IDF emitters, blanketing the area around them with engine crippling energy fields and slowing the V’kit’no’sat ships as the Hadarak got closer. Meanwhile more Cov’ri were being grown inside the Hadarak at a remarkable rate as other types of minions were set loose and got to the V’kit’no’sat before the Hadarak did.

The weaponsfire from the fleet shifted to the swarms while the Teo’naq continued targeting the Hadarak in select locations, starting to burn through a section of its incredibly resilient skin as they overlapped firepower and poured a nearly continuous stream of damage into the same location, overloading its absorption abilities and causing decent damage.

But as several Teo’naq lagged behind as their engines were disabled by the Cov’ri, De’mo’tap began hitting shields and literally sucking energy away from them as the V’kit’no’sat weapons shot them off, ironically giving them more energy than they could handle with their weapons, but even a few seconds of contact severely weakened the defensive shields in that area. When large numbers of De’mo’tap hit a single ship, the shields essentially evaporated under their collective draining attack, then when individual De’mo’tap were at saturation they would release it in the form of a single small energy weapon attack…then begin draining more to recharge.

Between the drain and the little stings they were a nightmare in numbers, and the tier 3 Hadarak was spilling them out by the millions. Eventually the predictable happened and many V’kit’no’sat ships were disabled enough that they could not pace the others in their fighting retreat and the Hadarak slowly loomed up upon them, coming into ‘close’ range and latching on with massive energy fields that drew them in closer as massive tentacles leapt out from pockets beneath the Hadarak’s skin and made physical contact with the vessels.

They latched on and dragged them down, then used enhanced gravity fields to crush the V’kit’no’sat ships against the Hadarak’s skin, that was far harder, until they broke into scattered bits that the Hadarak then pulsed away from itself with a reverse gravity field.

That was why the V’kit’no’sat could not get within a certain range of the Hadarak, for they literally had no chance of fighting them in that close until the Hadarak was so damaged as to be weakened to the kill point…but even them some of them had proven lethal in their death throes.

Overcoming the Hadarak meant first you had to destroy their minions swarms, then attack them directly and hope they didn’t run away before you could finish them off…but with the arrival of the second Hadarak and the release of its minions, the V’kit’no’sat commander of the defense fleet knew they had no chance of winning this fight.

So he had them focus their attack on the minions and tried to draw them further away from the Hadarak so he could have more time to rescue inhibited ships before they drifted into kill range…but eventually he stretched the distance too much and the minion swarms broke off as the tier 3 changed course after the fifth Hadarak arrived. Two of them did not even engage, merely moving around the star to an outgoing jumpline and departing, leaving three behind that moved towards the two inhabited planets. The pair of tier 1s to one planet and the tier 3 to the other as the V’kit’no’sat continued to snipe at them from range.

They shrugged it off in addition to the firepower now hitting them from the surface batteries. Tar’vem’jic and heavy Arsuen hit and did damage, but not before the tier 3 descended slowly and made physical contact with the planetary defense shields, throwing its mass against them as shots from around the perimeter of the impact point passed through gaps and savaged the exterior with shallow damage craters that were beginning to add up.

But the planetary shield couldn’t hold up against that much mass for long, and when the Hadarak enhanced the gravity fields to add additional pressure they snapped, allowing the Hadarak to descend to the surface within 30 seconds where it smashed all the V’kit’no’sat cities beneath in a single moment and continued to dig deep into the planet as a massive concussion blast spread out in a ring around it, with the closest city shields unable to hold up against the impact wave.

Beyond them there were surviving cities where the snap evacuation of the impact point was ferrying evacuees, but as the earthquakes wracked the surface and the Hadarak settled in, it sent several digging tentacles down beneath it reaching for the molten levels of the planet through the solid crust as apertures on the Hadarak opened up and spilled out hundreds of thousands of infantry minions.

They spread out through the devastated cities looking for resources to exploit and V’kit’no’sat to kill, with ground troops moving to meet them now that the Hadarak had landed. It couldn’t use its close-in fleet killing powers with its minions in play, or rather wouldn’t, and the V’kit’no’sat knew that it was here to harvest resources from the planet. The longer they could delay it here the more additional systems they would spare, so given no other choice the V’kit’no’sat ground troops went the opposite direction of the evacuees and sought out the minions to kill all the way up to the Hadarak itself if possible, for there was also a small opportunity here to smuggle explosives inside.

The Hadarak usually lifted off before that took place, but on a few cases in the past small teams had been able to pull it off and wreck the minion growth areas inside, saving the others from fighting millions of them into the future. That was small compensation, but significant if the flying minion swarms filled the sky and low orbit as they now were, preventing orbital bombardment of the target that was so large that it was sticking up above the atmosphere even as it dug its tentacles deep into the crust to make passageways for direct seepage, like a tree extending roots down into moist soil, but more than that to allow the minions access to multiple layers of the crush for them to begin mining operations of their own that would extend an army of ‘ants’ out to collect far more material that would be funneled back via tunnels and transports as the biological army fed the Hadarak as they slowly picked apart the planet.

Shortly after the tier 3 landed one of the tier 1s made it through to the surface of the other planet with its counterpart withdrawing to the star and submerging beneath the surface. It was the more damaged of the two, but the V’kit’no’sat couldn’t attack it there with much effect, so it was safe to wait and make repairs as the other two spawned more and more minions and began the slow digestion of the planets they were now attached to like ticks.

The V’kit’no’sat defense fleet, now missing many Teo’naq, kept on the periphery of the minion swarm and picked at it, fighting many skirmishes as the two sides played a constant navigation game that would soon be augmented by even larger minions once the Hadarak got enough resources from the planet to produce them. Fortunately the first of the reinforcements fleets began to arrive within 2 days and the V’kit’no’sat started to chew away at the minion fleet while landing additional ground troops far from the Hadarak and its protective swarm.

The planets were gone and the V’kit’no’sat knew it, but it would take time for the Hadarak to wreck them and until that fully happened attacks on the ground could slow their progress and attacks in orbit could negate the minion production by killing them as fast as they could be grown anew…or that was the basic strategy, but a tier 3 was so much larger than a tier 1 that they didn’t have a chance of countering it without massive reinforcements.

Those were promised to be coming, but now was the most important time as the minion swarms got set up, so all incoming ground troops from orbit went to fight the tier 1 while those ground troops already on the planet now infested by the tier 3 were left to delay its consumptions by whatever measures they could as the number of minions there were growing at a rate far faster than they were being destroyed once the resources began to flow in from the magma taps…then even more as the crust resource flows snowballed.

Right off the bat the V’kit’no’sat were losing and losing badly, but as had occurred in past millennia it was the level of resistance they put up that would determine how far the Hadarak would dare push, so even as troops on the ground and in orbit died, they died with one mission firmly implanted in their minds…do damage.

That was all that mattered now, and the more reinforcements they got the more damage they could do…but not to the minions. It was damage to the Hadarak themselves that provoked them to withdraw. Their minions were expendable, though living people in and of themselves. They were spawned and subservient to the Hadarak, linked into a very powerful telepathic web of control that required the V’kit’no’sat to use their armor’s Ikrid inhibitors else they become overwhelmed or killed by the massive telepathic aura of the Hadarak. Even the Zen’zat had to use inhibitors, else the headaches that would result from their own blocks would become so great that they would be unable to function.

But as they had done for millions of years, the V’kit’no’sat did not back down. They faced the nightmare head on and fought it, inch by inch, scratch by scratch, with the number of their own dead stacking up on top of those instantaneously lost when the Hadarak hit the planet. But no number of deaths would dissuade them. This impossible fight is what the V’kit’no’sat existed for, and everyone in the system knew it and responded accordingly.

Living wasn’t the objective. Stalling and driving off the Hadarak was.

And that was going to take a lot of bloodshed to accomplish…which was why the V’kit’no’sat required such an expansive empire in the first place. They had to have the population to spend in these battles if necessary and the weaponry for that population to use…and they did. And they would come in droves from the reforged V’kit’no’sat, fighting and dying for as long as necessary.

The question was how committed were the Hadarak to this invasion and how much damage were they willing to take?

And how much it would cost the V’kit’no’sat to push them to that point?

5

April 27, 3695

Amcigor System (Hjar’at territory)

Terrolmas

Mak’to’ran’s ship had arrived a few days previously to meet up with the gathering fleet that was already 12,000 warships strong and gaining numbers quickly as more trickled in from across the nearby region. The Hjar’at fleet was amongst them, with many new vessels that had initially been tasked with defending this key system now prepping to go to war against the Hadarak while the yards continued to produce more at an astounding rate…now amped up considerably as other races in the reforged V’kit’no’sat began shipping in additional resources for them to use.

There were four major planets in the system, but the bulk of the shipyards existed in their own orbit in the middle zone around the pair of stars at system center, one of which had extensive mining apparatus pulling solari and other important resources out of the radioactive maelstrom. Small ships were constantly moving between those platforms and the shipyards as more than 9,000 slips were active with partial hulls constructed and another 2,000 waiting for the necessary resources to begin fabrication.

The reason this fleet was assembling here was simply a matter of location, and it wasn’t the only one. Waypoints all along the border with the Hadarak were being used to rally and meld the numerous ships the V’kit’no’sat possessed into hundreds of fleets that would be moving to different objectives, for more Hadarak had been detected on approach and a few had already blown past existing defenses. So far they were making pushes into three regions…Bovok, Gavsor, and Evvcha…which represented over 8,000 inhabited V’kit’no’sat systems in addition to hundreds of thousands more belonging to native races and others that were uninhabited.

That meant this fight was already taking place across a vast track of territory and the real slug fest hadn’t yet started. The Hadarak were so slow the V’kit’no’sat would know they were coming days, if not weeks, before reaching their targets, but once they arrived they were almost impossible to stop and required huge amounts of ships to damage, let alone kill a Hadarak. If Mak’to’ran skimped and sent too small of fleets to reinforce then he’d be sending virtually all of them to their deaths and defeat. He had to assemble an overwhelming number and send them in to pound the Hadarak so fast that they didn’t have time to whittle them down. Only then would the Hadarak consider retreat, but not before they had tested the assembled strength through at least a few rounds of combat.

Such battles were going to have to take place in dozens of systems, for so far there had been 48 Hadarak detected and probably more on the way. The V’kit’no’sat had a speed advantage, but pulling in vessels from across their empire took time while the Hadarak only had a few system jumps to make to get to the nearest targets.

Mak’to’ran needed more time, which was why he’d already ordered massive recon efforts into Hadarak territory. That was risky, but if his ships kept moving they should be able to avoid the Cov’ri. If they lingered they’d be tracked down and disabled, then ultimately destroyed. That was why there weren’t many scouting missions sent into Hadarak territory, and most remote sensors dropped there were found, even if stealthed. However the Hadarak worked they could sense things that the V’kit’no’sat could not, and to date no effective cloaking fields had been able to protect even the smallest V’kit’no’sat ship against detection.

That meant beyond the front he had no knowledge of where the Hadarak were or how many of them were moving towards detection points. Mak’to’ran needed more of an advance warning, so he was sending thousands of their fastest ships to dart in and out and gather data, giving them a fair chance of survival, but even the slightest misstep or bit of bad luck would lead to deaths. Regardless, it was necessary so he could get his growing fleets in the proper position to counter the Hadarak, and hopefully intercept them in a few neutral systems before they reached V’kit’no’sat planets.

He didn’t have enough ships in this group to move yet, and waiting for more while the minutes ticked away and the Hadarak crept closer to their target systems was beyond frustrating. Normally there would already be large fleets stationed nearby ready to respond, but they’d been stripped down or entirely removed during this insane civil war. The Hadarak had caught them off guard without even knowing it, and now they were going to get routed in several systems before Mak’to’ran’s forces could intercept the Hadarak and force a fight in space.

It was going to take another week at least to get the necessary ships here, but an unexpected group of arrivals appeared on the system sensors as Brat’mar and Tido’cor ships started appearing by the dozens, none of which were part of the reforged V’kit’no’sat, and they were sending hails requesting a direct conversation with Mak’to’ran.

The system defense ships pinned the new arrivals in low stellar orbit without resistance, then Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha moved out from the planet to get within realtime comms range where he accepted a holographic communication from four individuals simultaneously. One was a Brat’mar, one a cat-like Tido’cor that had a knife-like tail and was barely larger than a Zen’zat, but the other two were from different races. There was an I’rar’et and a Kar’ka that did not belong on any of the ships, procing Mak’to’ran’s curiosity.

“Speak,” he said simply once all were looking at him.

“We seek terms,” the Brat’mar said.

“For what?”

“Immediate reabsorption into the empire without repercussions for past actions.”

“On behalf of what faction?”

“The Non-Aligned Confederation.”

Mak’to’ran’s eyes narrowed. “All of them?”

“All,” the Brat’mar repeated. “There is no time to do anything but fight the Hadarak, and if we can get terms from you will not just send ships to the fight, but will fully reintegrate with the empire so we can present as strong of a united front as possible. You know the Hadarak will not turn back for anything other than overwhelming strength.”

“Quite right. What terms are you seeking?”

“We wish to reserve the right to independence if it is discovered that either the Oso’lon or J’gar are responsible for Terraxis. We wish no association with them, but now that the Era’tran are sharing leadership it is not clear where the empire stands.”

“Then let me make it clear. If I can find evidence of anyone responsible for Terraxis I will move against them immediately. So far I cannot find the sponsor, in any form, and I will not penalize our brothers based on suspicion alone. Until proof of treason is found, I will treat them with the respect that all our races deserve.”

“Optimistic,” the I’rar’et commented.

“Necessary,” Mak’to’ran countered. “If we allow ourselves to be torn apart over mere rumor, then we deserve to be destroyed, for we are fools. My people are on the lookout for any information regarding Terraxis, but we may have to find a path forward without an answer. I choose to default to the common bonds between us. I will trust until given reason not to. Not the reverse.”

“We do not agree regarding the Oso’lon and J’gar, but we believe you are worthy of the trust. If you can promise us that we will be free to split apart again if the Oso’lon or J’gar are found to be guilty, then we will rely on your trust.”

“What will you do if one of them is implicated?” the Tido’cor asked.

“They will be culled,” Mak’to’ran said flatly. “As will anyone who is responsible for that heresy.”

“Even if it fractures the empire?”

“Bonds of trust cannot be poisoned by sanctioning betrayal. If I can find those responsible, I will deliver the justice required. You have my promise of that.”

“And what if both the Oso’lon and the J’gar are responsible?” the Brat’mar asked.

“They will not be absolved. That is a scenario that I do not like considering, but if it should come to pass we will cull them both.”

“Even if it releases the Hadarak?”

“We cannot function by sanctioning treachery. If the Hadarak are to be released, we will face that scenario while holding to our honor. We will not compromise it to contain them.”

“So you would forfeit the purpose of the V’kit’no’sat to pursue the traitors?” the Kar’ka asked.

“Never. We will fight the Hadarak until all are destroyed, and if we must retreat to the rim to rebuild and push back later, then so be it. I do not want to face that scenario, but treason will not be ignored. The only chance of one day defeating the Hadarak and cleansing their stain from this galaxy is to be united. I will not forfeit that destiny in exchange for a temporary hold. We fight with honor or we die with honor. The honor is non-negotiable.”

“Can the Era’tran live up to that burden absent your new peers?”

“Only time can tell, but I personally do not believe the Oso’lon or the J’gar are responsible. They have too little to gain. Terraxis is a mystery that will lead to unexpected conclusions if we are able to discover it, but I do not have the luxury of looking now. The Hadarak are the primary concern.”

“Would you delay evidence of the Oso’lon or J’gar’s treachery until the threat is repulsed?”

“At this point I do not care. The empire is fractured and the Hadarak sense our weakness. I will fight both the Hadarak and the traitors, but I do not know who the traitors are so I will waste no time on them.”

“Nor should you,” the Brat’mar agreed. “We wish a promise of peaceable severance should the traitors be found and are not able to be culled as necessary, perhaps out of concern for the threat of the Hadarak.”

“It will not come to that, but I give you my promise. Should I fail in my duty, I give you now permission to leave without penalty for the severance, but no promise of further actions dependent on possible misbehavior.”

The four representatives exchanged glances, then the Kar’ka spoke.

“We had wondered if you would add that stipulation. Had you not, we would have questioned your sincerity. Formalize what you have said with the necessary credentials and we will rejoin the V’kit’no’sat as quickly as possible. There are still issues to work out with our respective races, but those are internal matters. Supply chains and shipping lanes will be reestablished immediately.”

“Done,” Mak’to’ran said with a nod of his giant head.

“Then we immediately detach the arriving fleet to your command.”

“How many are coming?”

“26,938 ships, minus those we are on. We will return and confirm in person what will be sent out over the Urrtren. The reunification must take place with haste.”

“And so it shall. Go. With your incoming ships I will be leaving shortly for the front. Waste no further time with talk,” he said, cutting the comm and sending numerous mental messages through the ship’s computer to the crew and others more distant, arranging for the reintegration as well as for the trickle of reinforcements to be directed to follow them.

Then Mak’to’ran took his Kafcha to the outgoing jumppoint at the head of the line and his reinforcement fleet began making their jumps out even before the last of the NAC ships had made theirs in.

Moving 218,000 ships through a single jumppoint took time, so Mak’to’ran’s fleet was in reality a long convoy chain moving from system to system until they arrived at Iesclak where the pair of planets were currently under assault by the giant Hadarak implanted onto their surfaces. The third Hadarak was no longer here, having jumped out of the system days ago with impunity as the fleet that was here was busy pestering the swarms and not making much progress on the tier 3, but having broken through most of those protecting the tier 1.

Mak’to’ran immediately assumed command, though kept his distance as his relief fleet came through the jumppoint at a relatively slow pace. That gave him time to get updated on the situation on the ground as he also took notice of the messages waiting for him coming through the Urrtren from numerous people in other systems warning him that he was too valuable to risk and that he should not be in this system or any other with Hadarak actively in it.

Mak’to’ran huffed with disgust. V’kit’no’sat were warriors meant to lead, and this was a fight he was going to head up from the front regardless of what anyone else thought. He needed the realtime information here, but he wasn’t going to take his ship into direct combat against the Hadarak…though the swarms were another matter.

Mak’to’ran’s ship held off with a few escorts as the rest of the ships were sent to reinforce the other reinforcement fleets that had arrived previously, often having to fly through the debris fields of the V’kit’no’sat ships that had already been destroyed while the swarms made a habit of recovering their dead biomatter so it could be recycled and grown into new minions. It was a weakness he had often exploited in the past, but right now the pitched fighting was in too localized a place to worry about recovery on either side.

With the influx of ships the wall of V’kit’no’sat began to press a little harder against the tier 1, with Mak’to’ran sending most of their ships to fight it. Those above the tier 3 were just trying to thin the swarm there with no chance at successfully assaulting that Hadarak. It was too big, and Mak’to’ran needed to do as much damage as possible, meaning he had to strike hard at the ‘smaller’ target that still measured 108 miles in diameter.

His fleet far outmassed it, but the weapons on his ships were almost comical when hitting the Hadarak…which was why he didn’t try targeting the Hadarak. He had all his ships over the tier 1 focus on the swarms, and after two days of pitched fighting he finally had clear skies and an opportunity to shoot the Hadarak directly…but he didn’t. Instead he sent ships down to bombard the surface and assist the ground troops. If he laid into the Hadarak it would withdrawal, probably over into the star, or perhaps even dig itself down into the planet and that would make matters worse.

There was no good way of going about this, so he had to rely on his previous experience fighting these monsters and buy time. That meant keeping the minion swarms over the tier 1 beat down, even as they grew more of them, while fighting the ground war tunnel by tunnel and avoid hitting the Hadarak directly. A few more months and the number of V’kit’no’sat ships here and elsewhere across the front would increase exponentially…until then they needed to slow down the feeding of the Hadarak.

So Mak’to’ran kept a fair amount of ships over the tier 1 for aerial/orbital suppression and ground support bombardment, then sent the rest to try and reduce the swelling numbers of minions over the tier 3 that was soon to reach critical mass where the reproductive efforts within the Hadarak had enough incoming raw materials to spawn so many so fast that there was no way to stop them save for throwing an enormous fleet into the maw and have them cancel each other out.

If Mak’to’ran tried that now he’d lose all his ships, so he kept them on a leash and chipping away at the number of minions even as they grew on this side of the planet, but on the other it was a different matter. The ground and aerial minions were trying to spread out and were being blocked by the ground troops and intact cities as a far smaller number of orbital minions were preceding them to provide cover.

Those were targeted heavily, forcing the enemy ground forces to push forward under Mak’to’ran’s orbital bombardment or dig in and wait while more were sent out around the curve of the planet to get to them.

Time. It was all about time. These two worlds were lost and he knew it, but how long he could delay them here would determine the fate of others. Also, how many minions were lost did affect the Hadarak in a strategic sense, for they were in constant telepathic contact with them all. It couldn’t extend from one system to another, but all those here were felt and guided by the Hadarak and in past battles Mak’to’ran and others had learned that if you could rack up an insane number of minion kills it would sometimes cause them to withdraw prior to them becoming heavily damaged. It seemed to annoy them more than anything, blocking their progress, though technically they didn’t need the minions to feed off of planets.

The minions made it much more efficient, but either of these Hadarak could force themselves down through the crust into the molten cores and absorb some of it directly, though it was far inferior to the process they used within stars. In fact Hadarak rarely dug that far into planets, so if Mak’to’ran could keep frustrating these two without prompting them to leave he could win some badly needed days.

But during those days the infrastructure of the enemy would literally be growing across the landscape and below ground, and with every mile of advancement more and more resources would flow in and the biological factories inside the Hadarak would spew out more minions until they reached a point of development where the Hadarak would actually spawn additional factories on the planet.

Neither one had reached that point here yet, but if they did the minion population would explode shortly thereafter, though it would be much worse coming from the tier 3. Tier 1s were a nightmare of their own, but a tier 3 was just too much to handle save for the largest of V’kit’no’sat fleets.

And this one he had encountered before, when it was slightly smaller, but even then they couldn’t stop it. Just scratch it over and over and over until it finally got bored and left. They hadn’t done serious damage, and why each of them pulled out was up to speculation. They never knew for sure, other than the fact that if they weren’t hit hard they would continue to spread out further and further rimward until all the territory the V’kit’no’sat had won back from them over the millennia would be lost again…and when a planet was broken in half, they rarely were able to be put back together.

There was a long list of those that had been lost before the V’kit’no’sat pushed them back, and it looked like these two were going to be added to the list if he couldn’t get enough ships here fast enough to counter the minion explosion that was so certain to come that there were countdowns visible on the command deck detailing the progress of each Hadarak’s deployment and growth, with the well documented ‘doomsday’ lines marked and the time to reaching them estimated and counting down with looming certainty.

6

May 3, 3695

Itaru System (V’kit’no’sat capitol)

Bradsho

“They are pulling massive numbers of ships off their uncontested worlds,” Nim’so said eagerly as he paced around the Oso’lon council chamber. “They haven’t yet withdrawn from our current conflicts, but they are leaving themselves no reserves. They are open to a debilitating counterattack.”

“Because they are moving to blunt the Hadarak,” Ma’set said angrily. “As we should be.”

“And waste this opportunity? Have you gone mad?”

“If the Hadarak are not stopped, nothing else we do will matter.”

“We will hold our own worlds, beyond that we have no responsibility to fight the Hadarak,” Nim’so said, drawing shocked looks from most of the other 18 Oso’lon in the chamber. They weren’t the lead Oso’lon in the system, who were located on Wendigama near the Elder Conclave, but they were the leaders on Bradsho, the third largest planet in the system that contained over 2 trillion inhabitants made up of the land dwelling V’kit’no’sat races.

“What are you saying?” one of them asked, displeasure evident on his face.

“I am saying we take this opportunity to hobble them and reestablish our dominance. Not a single strike, but a coordinated assault that will strip them of all power they claim to wield. They have left themselves vulnerable. If they were truly dominant they would not make such an obvious mistake. We will enlighten them as we reclaim their worlds.”

“And force them to either come back and fight us or fight the Hadarak?” Ma’set all but spat, looking across the wide plaza where the long-necked Oso’lon were mingling inside an anti-surveillance canopy.

“Exactly. But by the time they could return we will have hurt them so badly that even if we have to withdraw it will be worth it. We must destroy the illusion that they are the V’kit’no’sat and reestablish our dominance.”

“I don’t believe this,” Ma’set said, looking at the others. “Our empire was founded to fight the Hadarak. They are invading and you want to ignore them!”

“If they come into our territory we fight them viciously, but we no longer control all of V’kit’no’sat territory. We have no obligation to defend what the others have claimed unless they submit to our rule once again.”

“If the Hadarak break through anywhere they will spread,” another Oso’lon added. “The line must be held unbreached everywhere.”

“Not true. If they expand elsewhere it will take millennia before they can come to us. We will have time, though I admit parts of the galaxy will have to be sacrificed…but if we cannot reunite the V’kit’no’sat and purge it of the traitors then the whole of the galaxy will be lost. We must fight for the future, even if there are unpleasant short term losses.”

“I can’t believe you are uttering those words here,” Ma’set said angrily.

“We must make the hard choices where others will not. What is it you fear happening, Ma’set?”

“If we attack Mak’to’ran’s forces, we will lose many of our own along with destroying theirs…who then will hold the Hadarak back? We are weak enough already. Grow too weak and they will surge forth in numbers we have not seen since the beginning of the empire. We cannot afford to lose all of those gains.”

“Which is why we must strike quickly while they are vulnerable. Hit them so hard and so fast that they have no choice but to submit. We can reunify the empire within a handful of years.”

“By betraying those who are actually behaving as V’kit’no’sat should?”

“They defy Itaru’s orders. They are not V’kit’no’sat,” another said vehemently.

“They are acquitting our highest responsibility,” Ma’set said, spinning to face the one who had spoken. “We exist to fight the Hadarak, and if we choose internecine over our duty, then it is we who are not V’kit’no’sat.”

“Careful, Ma’set. Your words are sounding close to treason…but it is no matter. The fleets are already assembling for the strike. Even if our ships do not aid them, the weakness will be exploited. Do you want them going with the Oso’lon not leading? That will weaken our position greatly.”

“The Conclave has decided already?” another Oso’lon asked.

“The decision has been made. It will become official within the day, and we must participate or draw further suspicion upon ourselves. If we hold back, some will question if our loyalty is to Itaru or the Primearch, and we cannot expand that cloud of distrust. Our ships must go…all of them. We must make this as effective a strike as possible, and a deathblow to the traitors if they are unable or unwilling to abandon the Hadarak front.”

“No,” Ma’set said firmly. “We will not.”

“The decision is not yours alone, and if you are not loyal to Itaru then perhaps we should be discussing your hidden agenda.”

“So I hold loyal to my oath to fight the Hadarak and you accuse me of treason! What madness is this?”

“We cannot fight the Hadarak divided. Itaru must regain control first, then and only then can we fight the Hadarak. Until we reestablish dominance over the galaxy any combat against them is a waste of resources…and if we cannot even be united here, then what chance do we have of saving the galaxy?”

“Save it? You would see it destroyed to salve your own ego,” Ma’set said as he noticed the approach of other Oso’lon outside the security field.

Do you feel that? Va’cad asked him telepathically. We are being contained. Da’her’s prediction is coming true.

We cannot let it.

If they mean to make sure this invasion occurs without resistance, they will not listen to reason.

That leaves us with but once choice.

That it does.

Are you with me?

Death before dishonor. I am with you.

But will the others?

Irrelevant. With or without them, we cannot let this come to pass and we cannot let ourselves be taken out before we can act. Go now.

Ma’set turned and ran towards one of the exits as Nim’so continued to speak. Va’cad headed to another one simultaneously with everyone else turning to look at what was happening.

“Stop them!” Nim’so yelled, seeing that they were about to escape his trap before it could be laid.

In respond he got a telekinetic slap across the face from Ma’set as he sprinted outside and saw two Oso’lon nearby in security armor headed towards him…but from the imprint of their minds he could tell they were young so he didn’t try to outrun them. Rather he turned and headed directly towards them while issuing a warning.

“Stand aside or be moved aside!” he yelled as both of them activated their armor. In that moment of transition the experienced Ma’set summoned and quick launched a Jumat blast into both of them, disrupting the armor flow over their bodies momentarily. That let him get close enough to drop an Ubven field on both of them while he simultaneously released a Saven mind flash.

The Ubven locked them in position like statues while the Saven blinded their mental focus long enough to keep them from using their own Ubven to negate the field and allow them to move through it. By the time the Saven wore off Ma’set was upon them and bodily slammed into one on the flank as he passed, smashing him against the Ubven field enough that it partially caved in…then when that Oso’lon negated it using his own Ubven it took the support out from under him and the quadruped fell the rest of the way over on its left side as its armor finished covering and forming on its body.

Ma’set sprinted on with the other Oso’lon still on its feet and pushing its way through the field while trying a Lachka attack…but Ma’set’s strength in that psionic was superior and he turned it back on the security guard, pushing the field back and underneath its front feet and tripping him like he’d been hit with an invisible log as he ran on into the cityscape as a few more security guards appeared behind them near the council exits as other Oso’lon came out and were immediately contained.

Va’cad?

I’m out.

Same. Go to the Conociv. I’m heading for the spaceport. I have to get to Wendigama before they lock down travel.

The Conclave will not listen to you.

I’m not going to talk to them. I’m going to rally as many loyal V’kit’no’sat that remain and stop this attack before it launches.

The others won’t let you.

Then we have to eliminate them.

What are you saying?

We have loyal V’kit’no’sat moving to stop the Hadarak and we are going to do our duty. Anyone who tries to stop us is a traitor and will be dealt with accordingly.

If you follow that thought through to its conclusion, we waste ships and personnel here.

I know, but it’s where we are at. We cannot let the attack commence…no matter what the costs.

We may not live through this, but I concur. Do not act recklessly. We will need every advantage we can get.

Summon all the allies you can and we will test the devotion of this madness, Ma’set said just before getting out of telepathic range as he continued to run through the Oso’lon city heading for the nearest spaceport.

Va’cad left the Oso’lon city entirely, traveling across the planet to a region known as the Conociv where the Zen’zat were located in the highest concentration. Few other races went there and the Oso’lon’s presence was immediately detected, with the tiny bipeds asking to his intentions as he ran through their city headed for the Tew’zat, telling them nothing more than his destination.

The Zen’zat did not interfere, but there were many of them in full armor waiting outside the massive facility where the most elite Zen’zat oversaw their subservient race throughout the galaxy…though now it was sparsely inhabited, as most senior Zen’zat had left to join with Mak’to’ran’s forces. That said, there were still some powerful Zen’zat here and the Tew’zat still functioned as the operational headquarters for all the Zen’zat within the Itaru region.

Those present were waiting for him in the main audience chamber where they received the few visitors that came to give them orders in person, though such things were rare with the efficiency of holo communications.

“I require your assistance,” Va’cad said as he skidded to a halt with a series of footsteps that sounded like feint thunder to the tiny Zen’zat clustered behind a low wall and several elevated daises.

“What is your command, Oso’lon?” a Zen’zat named Opro said, with his grey sparkling eyes looking up at Va’cad’s head that still arched above his elevated position.

“Treason is abound. There is a plan to launch an attack on Mak’to’ran’s worlds while his fleet is dispatched to fight the Hadarak. They may no longer be loyal to Itaru, but they are fulfilling their oaths. Striking them in their weakness is a betrayal we cannot allow to pass. Our ships must go to fight the Hadarak, not our brothers. Do you understand the importance in this?”

“Clearly,” Opro said evenly. “What are your orders?”

“I call upon you to fulfill your oath to the purpose of the V’kit’no’sat and ignore any orders from the Elder Conclave that require you to betray that oath. We must stop the fleet from leaving, though in doing so the Conclave will most likely deem your actions as treason. I require you to do your duty and help us remove the true traitors from Itaru. Any who oppose us must be fought. Those who do not will be ignored regardless of their loyalties. The fleet cannot be dispatched and we have little time to stop it.”

“I have been waiting for sanity to prevail,” Opro admitted. “And I do hate waiting. I’d much rather fight for it.”

“The ships that do not listen must be disabled. We cannot allow even a small attack group to launch.”

“Then this must go beyond this system.”

“This is where the order will originate. It is here we must stop it.”

“Respectfully, I disagree. We must do more than that.”

“Speak.”

“We know who is loyal to fighting the Hadarak and who are loyal to themselves. Authorize us to act and we can do more than you imagine.”

The Oso’lon looked down at the Zen’zat, wondering if this was loyalty he was hearing or the admission that they had their own agendas.

“Can you get word to those who are loyal?”

“We can, but word alone is not going to be enough. We need to preposition to take control or eliminate strategic positions. Those who do not hold the V’kit’no’sat as their priority will not simply submit. They will fight and die rather than give up what they believe is their destiny.”

“Their destiny?”

“They seek control rather than brotherhood, and will strike down any threat to that control that emerges. If you act without preparation, the loyal could be overwhelmed…for the disloyal have many preparations in place against revolt.”

“Including orders to the Zen’zat?” Va’cad asked.

“Yes.”

“I am not well suited to such things, Opro. I had not planned on revolt, but the fleet cannot be allowed to leave. If you have skills and knowledge of such things, put them to use.”

“Time is critical. I need authority to act independently on behalf of the Oso’lon.”

“We will take responsibility. Do what must be done before we commit the greatest of betrayals.”

Opro raised a hand and snapped his fingers…with most of the other Zen’zat immediately surging into motion and scurrying away like ants as they sprinted for tasks that Va’cad could only guess at.

“I will need a personal message from you validating this to show to those who are loyal. They will not take the word of Zen’zat alone.”

“You will have it. What else is required?”

“When dealing with the traitors…what weapons are we to use?”

“If the fleet is dispatched, V’kit’no’sat obeying their duty will be attacked and killed while vulnerable because they are fighting the Hadarak rather than defending against us. If there are deaths to be had, let them be the traitors amongst us. Use lethal force as you deem necessary on those who act against us. Those who you suspect but do not act, subdue with stun weaponry only.”

“And what of those blindly following orders?”

“At your discretion, but the fleet cannot be allowed to leave.”

“Understood,” Opro said, satisfied that he now had clear operational orders. “This will be bloody, but I agree that it is necessary to uphold our honor and our oaths. The Zen’zat will fight and die as needed to accomplish this. We only ask that you do not waste it. Once this revolt begins, there is no going back.”

“It is a sad day when the Zen’zat are wiser than their superiors. You do credit to your post. Eliminate the treason within us and we will join our brothers on the Hadarak front where we belong.”

Opro touched a few buttons on his dais and a holographic cage appeared around Va’cad.

“I need that message now.”

“Brothers, an unsavory duty has fallen upon us,” the Oso’lon began. “I call upon you to aid the Zen’zat in the actions required. I have given them authority to do what must be done, but time is short and we must ask quickly before those amongst us who favor their personal aggrandizement over the purpose of the V’kit’no’sat move against us. They have already begun moving against Oso’lon leadership and had I not acted quickly I would not be free to rally those who still hold to their oaths to take action now. The Zen’zat are with us, for their duty is clear and they have no hope of racial agendas. They are the servants to the V’kit’no’sat, and today they are fulfilling their duty in a way none of us had ever anticipated be necessary, but now it is.”

“A massive invasion fleet is soon to be assembled and launched against Mak’to’ran’s vulnerable worlds as he and those loyal to him are holding to their oaths and countering the invasion of the Hadarak…as we should be doing. Forget the divisions of recent years. We are V’kit’no’sat. We were created to fight the Hadarak…and those in Itaru who command that we ignore our duty and strike at our brothers who are doing theirs must be removed from power. Regretfully I do not think we have the numbers to remove them gently, and I do not think they will be so kind to us. They will label us traitors and kill us as has been done to others who defy them.”

“They have defied the V’kit’no’sat with this betrayal, and it is time to make your loyalties known. I do not know how many are loyal and how many are not, but the fleet must not leave. Do what has to be done. We cannot allow a betrayal of those who are fulfilling their oaths, no matter what else has occurred in recent years. Our place is on the front fighting the Hadarak, either with or alongside them, but given that isn’t an option at this moment, our place is clear…removing those who are preventing us from fulfilling our duty.”

“The Hadarak are upon us and treason abounds. See to the fulfillment of your individual oaths and let history write itself. I do not know how this ends, but I will stand by and watch no longer. This madness must end, and end now…before it destroys us all.”

7

May 4, 3695

Itaru System (V’kit’no’sat capitol)

Wendigama

Mextre was on the command deck of one of three Voro’nam Kafcha above the planet at the very heart of the V’kit’no’sat empire, transitioning through a lazy orbit over top the Elder Conclave on the surface far below along with thousands of other warships and hundreds of thousands of civilian vessels. Right now there was a realignment going on that Mextre was only now noticing, for his ship apparently wasn’t one of those tapped by the rebels as ripe for the picking, but word was spreading rapidly now across the system as many vessels were forsaking their allegiance to Itaru and repositioning into various groups, some of which had made it known that they were going to go to the Hadarak front to assist in the fight despite the Elder Conclave forbidding it.

Apparently the Conclave had decided on another course of action, with an immediate attack to be launched on Mak’to’ran’s systems that were now devoid of the majority of their fleet as he was rushing resources to fight the Hadarak. Mextre acknowledged the opportunity there for a knockout blow, but it didn’t feel right. Mak’to’ran’s forces should never have defied Itaru, and even now that the majority of the Oso’lon and J’gar civilizations were with them…which brought with their power the taint of Terraxis that so many abhorred…they were doing their duty as V’kit’no’sat and fighting the Hadarak where Itaru was not. That did not feel right at all, but as of now his ship had received no deployment orders, though he figured they would be coming in at any time.

Mextre would do his duty, for even if Itaru was temporarily ignoring the Hadarak they would not do so forever, and Mak’to’ran had sealed his fate when he defied the Elder Conclave. It would not be a pleasant fight, but it would be a short one if the fleet went in unison. Right now it seemed they would not, with massive chunks of the combined fleet in Itaru publically defying the order and either standing down or prepping for their own unsanctioned deployment to the Hadarak front.

Yet no one had contact him. No one had said a thing, leaving him to observe as reports of small scale fighting onboard many of the ships began to make their way onto the comm grids. Some said the Zen’zat were actively rebelling against the ship’s crews, but he knew that could not be possible without collusion. Zen’zat controlled many functions onboard his Kafcha, but they couldn’t take control of the ship from the Voro’nam. At best they could sabotage it and delay its deployment, but so far his Zen’zat had not shown any sign of disobedience and he’d had his crew do a quiet check to confirm that. Whatever rebellion was spreading through Itaru had not reached here, leaving Mextre wondering…

He was never able to finish his thought as a tiny orange beam streaked across the holographic displays from Wendigama’s surface and hit a ship in orbit…an Era’tran Dak’bri sitting within one of the fleet groups assembling to leave to go fight the Hadarak.

Mextre couldn’t believe his eyes, then as another beam leapt up and hit another ship…a Voro’nam Kafcha like his own…puncturing its shields with a single hit and burning a hole straight through the hull as the fleet under assault reacted almost instantaneously, firing a few return shots down to the planet that splashed against the defense shields that popped up only over a few small regions as the fleet raced for higher altitude to get out of the firing range of the planetary defense guns that had just opened fire on them.

And those beams were Tar’vem’jic coming from two different planetary defense stations…no, make that three as another beam leapt out and joined the others as they hammered several ships in the rebellious fleet and hurt the Era’tran vessel so much that it failed to flee, drifting upwards on what thrust it’d managed to produce before its engines had been wrecked. Two more Tar’vem’jic blasts hit it and blew it apart, sending an icy chill up Mextre’s spine from tail tip to the armored dome on his head.

“Get us out of range of the planet’s weaponry!” he yelled as his crew snapped into action. “Find out who controls those planetary guns. Not all in range were firing. I need to know who has control. Itaru or the rebels.”

“The Voro’nam ship hit is badly damaged. Reporting casualties of at least 2,000.”

“Who authorized those guns to fire!” he demanded.

The answer didn’t come for almost a minute, then there was a deathly calm on the command deck as the system began to light up with ship and surface combat popping up everywhere like a chain reaction that had just been set off.

“Itaru authorized it,” another Voro’nam on the bridge said with anger in her voice. “They’re ordering all rebel ships to be targeted and destroyed.”

Mextre turned on her as if she was insane. “What did you say?”

“We’re ordered to fight and destroy any vessel disobeying Itaru’s command. They’re sanctioning it as an immediate cull.”

“Not just that,” another Voro’nam said, still studying comm data coming in. “They’re launching purging attacks on the surface. Some of the planetary defense stations are refusing to comply.”

“What is happening?” he asked, aghast.

“We’re being queried by Wendigama as to our status.”

“So we either kill our brothers or be killed?” he roared. “What madness is this?”

“I don’t think we have much time to decide. The other ships are realigning on attack vectors for the nearest rebel fleet.”

Mextre looked at the display holograms as the system lit up in combat everywhere, with most of the ships fleeing from planetary orbit to avoid the surface defenses, but some did not and moved into regions where the rebels apparently held control with the curved mass of the planet blocking the firing lines from the other weapons emplacements.

“This is a full blown civil war,” he said with disgust.

“Join with us,” a Zen’zat said from behind him, prompting Mextre and the others to turn and look at him curiously, though there was lethal intent in some of their eyes. “We have to stop this before we are all destroyed.”

“Who is us?” Mextre demanded.

“Zen’zat are loyal to our oaths to serve the V’kit’no’sat, and the V’kit’no’sat exist to fight the Hadarak. If Itaru does not wish to honor that oath then we will serve those that will. Help us stop this carnage before it goes even further. Itaru is the one that began this, we are only…”

The Zen’zat didn’t finish speaking, for Mextre lifted him up telekinetically two meters off the floor then the Voro’nam flipped his tail around so fast that he hit and drove the Zen’zat across the command deck into a low wall where an audible snap was heard.

“Do not speak to me, traitor!” Mextre said, walking over to the Zen’zat who was crawling a few meters with an apparently broken back and no armored gauntlets on to protect him. “You are the cause of this insanity.”

Mextre stood over him and raised up his foot, then sent it smashing down on the Zen’zat’s head even as the tiny biped tried to use his own Lachka to block it, but the pathetic strength in his body wasn’t enough and the Voro’nam felt the skull crack and his head squish underneath his weight. He twisted his foot and ground it into the deck as he looked at the rest of the Zen’zat cowering near their stations or the exits.

“Kill them all,” he ordered. “We cannot take any chances.”

“No,” another Voro’nam said, stepping forward before the crew could act on his order. “He was right. Itaru is to blame for this.”

“This carnage is upon us,” Mextre all but growled. “It cannot be stopped now. We must choose our side, and the Voro’nam will not side with the rebels.”

“You just saw Wendigama shoot one of our own ships!”

“I do not know what happened there, but our loyalty is clear. We are V’kit’no’sat and the Elder Conclave decides for us. They have decreed the rebels must die, and these Zen’zat are most likely all corrupted.”

“If you want to destroy them, you will have to go through me,” the other Voro’nam said, activating the armor that he wore despite being on bridge duty. Mextre had none, but two others on the bridge did.

“Take him,” he ordered, with both activating their armor and moving against the rebel sympathizer.

But they never got to him. All the Zen’zat bolted, those with armor activating it and attacking while other Voro’nam crew members rammed the two guards into the walls as the other slipped by and got to Mextre. Fighting against an armored opponent when you had none was not good, but Mextre was stronger than all on the bridge so he didn’t back down. The two collided, butting heads and grappling with their psionics for a moment before multiple stun blasts hit Mextre at pointblank range and rendered him unconscious.

The defender of the Zen’zat spun and went after the other two armored ones as they shot the rest of the bridge crew helping him…but not with stun weapons. They delivered lethal shots as the Zen’zat jumped on their backs and fired their tiny weapons into their shields, attempting to at least distract the larger V’kit’no’sat enough to spare the loyal ones a few hits.

The defender got to them as quickly as possible and took them both on in a battle that wrecked the command deck for the next 7 minutes, but ultimately left all three with broken armor and visible wounds, but he accomplished enough damage that the Zen’zat were able to finish off the traitors as more of the tiny bipeds appeared on the bridge in full armor while others came carrying regenerators that they immediately applied to the wounded and dead Voro’nam, trying to save them before they passed beyond recovery as the rest of the ship began to hear what was going on.

Fortunately the Zen’zat had taken control of communications, and with the help of the loyal Voro’nam they swayed most of the crew who fought the others in a lopsided internal battle that ended as soon as the ship came under attack from an Itaru-allied fleet that had apparently taken their lack of action to be a sign of disobedience.

A few of those fighting inside stopped when it became clear that they were under attack, but there was so much space inside the 36-mile long dreadnaught that some areas didn’t even hear the weaponsfire when it began to penetrate the shields and hit the hull. Deck after deck was cored, losing atmosphere as the Kafcha was surrounded and unable to flee. As any good V’kit’no’sat would, the Voro’nam ship fought back and did considerable damage to the smaller vessels surrounding them, but their previously flanking Voro’nam Kafcha were no longer here to defend them. They had been deployed elsewhere while a fleet of Itaru-loyal vessels not of Voro’nam ownership hammered the vessel whose only crime was sitting still in orbit and not doing anything.

Eventually the internal fight was won, but it was a moot point as deck after deck was ravaged from the exterior and the Kafcha was eventually destroyed, then pummeled to the point where there would be no survivors left to recover. After that task was done the hunter fleet move to another rebellious vessel that was refusing to choose sides and carried out the same one-sided battle as Itaru burned with conflict and the Elder Conclave saw fit to make sure that there would be no mixed loyalties remaining when this came to a conclusion. There could be no dissention tolerated. You were either fully behind Itaru or against it…and if against it, you were going to be exterminated.

Four Sess’nat swam to the ocean floor on Itaru, with their shell-less, turtle-like bodies forcefully pushing through the deep water in the utmost urgency to get to the reclusive domicile of one of the eldest Sess’nat that had little contact with even his own race. Save for a few peculiarities, he shunned contact with the outside world and kept to himself…doing what no one knew, but given the current situation these Sess’nat were going to breach his privacy and demand that he take action.

When they approached they were met with no security devices. No sensors, no locks, no weaponry. They swam in through the short tunnel that was open to the sea water save for a filtering energy field that they passed through harmlessly as they sought out Da’bran with their Ikrid in as respectful a manner as they could.

They couldn’t sense his presence and swam through half his large domicile before he appeared in mind’s eye, coming out of an enclosure that must have been psionically shielded. When he did, his mass surprised the younglings. They knew that he was a Sor’ku variant, but they had never seen one so large. Their race had four variants, with these interlopers belonging to the Ha’vi and Uen groups, but what that meant was little more than some physical differences regarding their neck length and body shape.

Da’bran gently floated out into the large, secondary chamber and looked at the four calmly, sensing their fear at the unannounced entry.

“Da’bran, we apologize,” one of them said, using his voice rather than telepathy as an act of contrition, sending sound waves out from pouches on his face that reverberated separately from his mouth. “We had no choice. Itaru is in flames. V’kit’no’sat are fighting V’kit’no’sat and not along racial lines. We beg your help to stop this.”

“And how do you think I can stop it?” he asked slowly, regarding the other Sess’nat as if they were hatchings.

“Your influence must still count for something…no matter how little sanity there is left.”

“The irrational do not listen to counsel.”

“For our own race,” another pleaded. “We cannot be fighting one another. Command them to stand down. We beg you.”

“You would have me defy the orders of Itaru?”

“Itaru has betrayed us.”

“So Mak’to’ran was correct?”

“I do not know…”

“Yes,” another said. “They are fighting the Hadarak, and when some here sought to go help them Itaru ordered them stopped. They fired Tar’vem’jic at the gathering ships who had done nothing other than state their intention to fight the Hadarak. Itaru sees only its own authority. They will sacrifice the galaxy to the Hadarak to maintain it.”

Da’gran sighed, blowing out tiny air bubbles from the gills that ran the length of his neck in a gesture of annoyance. “So be it. Why you can’t maintain our race without my constant intervention is beyond me.”

“Thank you, Elder,” the last of them said, with all offering telepathic echoings of that statement.

“Hatchlings,” Da’gran muttered as he swam past them forcefully and made his way outside while mentally interacting with his domicile’s systems. Before he made it halfway to the surface a ship appeared, coming up from below and opening its hatches for him to swim inside. He left the others behind without so much as a word as the aquatic warship’s crew made space for him in the command deck.

There was no talking as Da’gran assumed control of the ship, making it his impromptu headquarters as others nearby in the ocean gathered to him, forming a flotilla that no one in their right mind would assault from underwater as he reached out to nearby cities and races, using his long held influence to bring them to heel and stop some of the fighting that had already occurred. He cited that he was not acting on behalf of the rebels or Itaru, but that this nonsense had gone on long enough and that he was asserting his own authority over the ‘hatchlings’ that had proven themselves unfit to bear the name V’kit’no’sat.

Wendigama had 3 oceans of moderate size connected by wide, artificial channels but he knew not to go there. Da’gran stayed deep in the water and made heavy use of the comm channels, finding…as he suspected…a myriad of aquatics not having a clue what they should do and waiting for even the most meager display of leadership to rally to. He provided more than that and quickly got Wendigama’s oceans under his personal command even as the Elder Conclave…or what was left of it after many representatives walked out…ordered him to submit to their authority or be destroyed.

Da’gran laughed at them and cut the comm channel, then began powering up the heavy defenses spread across the oceans, ready to shoot down the first ship foolish enough to try and enforce that shortsighted order.

8

July 9, 3695

Iesclak System (Hadarak Front)

Stellar Orbit

Mak’to’ran’s Kafcha fired on the smaller of the two Hadarak along with over 50,000 other warships as it traveled across the system, fleeing the planet it had been on and racing towards the safety of the star as the V’kit’no’sat fleet continued to pour firepower into several select regions on its surface that had previously been breached. Shooting anywhere else was a waste of time and he held all ships in his command to strict firing orders that he himself was entering into the fleet combat systems. They had to do more damage before it got to the star, otherwise it would sink beneath the surface and out of their range to kill it.

He knew they weren’t going to be able to kill it before it got there, but he wanted it so damaged it wouldn’t come out again for months. Sadly, the internal structure of the Hadarak wasn’t vulnerable to the pressure and star’s radiative danger…rather the reverse. They liked the pressure and energy and both would stoke the Hadarak’s insanely fast regeneration, limited only by the natural resources it had available. Many things could be found within stars, but there was a reason the Hadarak landed and consumed planets, and it was a question of how many resources it had already soaked up that would determine the extent of its repairs here.

Mak’to’ran watched as the beams hit the wounded areas and did little damage. Even the internal structure was resistant to weaponsfire…but not as much as their thick ‘skin,’ with each shot landing in the targeted zones doing 7 times as much damage as a hit on the armored exterior. That was still pathetically small compared to how effective the V’kit’no’sat’s weaponry was against the minions and Mak’to’ran needed to throw as much destructive energy into the tier 1 Hadarak even as reinforcements from the tier 3 raced across the system to help defend it.

Mak’to’ran’s fleet was peeling the necessary ships off to intercept the minions, and without the Hadarak following to back them up Mak’to’ran wasn’t worried. They could do damage on their own, but their main threat was in slowing down his ships enough for the kill blows to follow. Right now the tier 3 was still on its planet and exponentially expanding its influence there beyond Mak’to’ran’s ability to confront. The planet was lost but it was still going to have to be contested, else the Hadarak would move on to its next planet sooner rather than later…but right now it was the vulnerable, smaller Hadarak that he knew he had to punish as much as possible. Such opportunities did not present themselves often.

During the chase he received a message through the Urrtren that he ignored, but after the wounded tier 1 Hadarak finally limped to a splashing entry into the star and escaped the V’kit’no’sat guns, he got back to it as his subordinate commanders handled the contact with the minion swarms following them that were doomed to die with no support. The Hadarak rarely recalled such attacks, choosing instead to take the time their deaths bought to grow more to replace them.

Mak’to’ran’s leadership wasn’t needed for this smaller fight, so he brought up the message from Hamob and played it out in full, seeing the updated intelligence reports and the elder Era’tran’s insistence that he return immediately. His first gut instinct was to ignore such a cowardly suggestion, but Hamob had sent his reasons along with the information so Mak’to’ran could judge for himself.

It seemed there was some amount of fighting going on in Itaru and spreading to a few other systems aligned with them, and Hamob’s contacts were begging for help as well as warning the reforged V’kit’no’sat of an attack en mass against their now lightly defended systems. The fighting in Itaru was meant to stop the attack from happening and the arrogant were not responding graciously.

Mak’to’ran knew he was in a horrible position. If he pulled his fleets back to fight Itaru then the Hadarak would roam free and disaster would follow. If he didn’t, then many systems would fall and the industrial strength that was currently sustaining the V’kit’no’sat would be badly wounded. Most of the heavily industrious worlds in the empire were in the possession of Itaru, leaving him with far less to work with in regards to building new ships. The combined fleet he now commanded was massive, but the ability to replace the losses was a huge weakness without Itaru and its ilk and the arrogant knew it. A strike against what industrial strength they had would be crippling…leaving Mak’to’ran with a no-win scenario.

But that wasn’t what was happening, for at the end of Hamob’s lengthy explanation he realized he was only requesting that Mak’to’ran return…not the fleet. He said there was a huge opportunity here but time was limited and that Mak’to’ran must return now.

Had it been anyone other than Hamob he never would have left the current battle in this condition, for they were losing so many V’kit’no’sat in necessary combat that it felt wrong to leave, but he knew this was strategically essential and said as much when he quickly contacted his senior commanders. As soon as they heard of an impending strike by the treasonous Itaru faction they gave him no argument when he said he had to leave but was keeping the rest of the fleet here to fight. He was thankful for that and got underway immediately, taking only his own Kafcha.

For while V’kit’no’sat were fighting and dying here, he wasn’t going to waste one hour elsewhere…let alone in transit as he headed for the rendezvous point Hamob had suggested and Mak’to’ran confirmed in the message he sent that would arrive long before his ship did.

Updates intercepted him through the Urrtren on his journey back, with him seeing more and more fighting going on in Itaru along with the ultimate request for Mak’to’ran to go there. That request hadn’t come from Hamob or anyone else in the reforged V’kit’no’sat, but from those in Itaru itself. Hamob told him he’d guessed something like this was going to happen, which was why he’d asked Mak’to’ran to come back immediately.

Both Era’tran traveled onboard the same Kafcha as a small but formidable fleet escorted them around the galactic spiral, through enemy territory all the way to the V’kit’no’sat capitol system. Mak’to’ran expected a huge fleet waiting for them on arrival, but there was nothing aside from a handful of ships in stellar orbit as his fleet came out of their jump against the smaller of the system’s two central stars.

Only then did the updates follow and Mak’to’ran realized that those in Itaru had been censoring the information.

“What is this?” he asked, with Hamob stepping up beside him on the command deck.

“The consequence of arrogance.”

“You knew?”

“Yes. But I had no data to share. Only the word of a few of the survivors that I still hold in high respect.”

“Who sent the request?”

“Da’gran. Last I knew, he was on Wendigama. I suggest we go there now. There’s not much left to stop us if they wanted.”

Mak’to’ran knew the stupidity of that statement, for there were thousands of ships out there that could cause them trouble, but they were but a fraction of what had once been here…or rather were still here, now reduced to rubble clearly visible on sensors as it lay scattered across hundreds of locations.

“Not yet,” he said, sending a mental order to take them around the star to where a pair of massive defense stations used to be…and were now reduced to trash. But it was trash that was still partially operational, at least as far as life support was concerned. “There were Era’tran here. We’re going to check if any still remain.”

“Understood, but do not delay long. This is still an unstable region. We need to begin spreading our influence.”

“We will begin here,” Mak’to’ran lightly insisted.

“We don’t have enough room for survivors,” Hamob said, referencing the trillions of people in the system, many of which were now dead.

“That’s no excuse for leaving behind those that could be saved. And if there is still fighting to be done, we are not going to stand by and watch. I will show no patience for this insanity while our brethren are fighting and dying on the front.”

“It looks like it is mostly concluded,” Hamob said sadly as more information began to come to their attention. Large tracts of the various planets were showing damage, not in a major way that orbital bombardment would have resulted in, but it was widespread small-scale damage that appeared to be from ground combat and some aerial/orbital strikes against key facilities, with large chunks of the planetary shields on Wendigama and the other planets currently offline.

“Itaru has never been this exposed,” Mak’to’ran all but cursed.

“Dispatch what ships you need to the recovery, but please find Da’gran immediately. This is worse than I feared,” Hamob said distractedly as he studied a separate console.

“Agreed,” Mak’to’ran said, giving the necessary orders and splitting his small fleet of 62 warships. He took 5 along with him, then sent the others out in groups on various cleanup tasks as his Kafcha traveled to the capitol within the capitol that was Wendigama.

When they came into high orbit and he was able to get close in sensor scans from his own ship his jaw dropped in utter shock. The surface of the planet had most of the buildings still standing, but they were almost all damaged. Huge and small chunks were knocked out of them with pyres of smoke everywhere as ground combat was still continuing in a few regions, but for the most part the planet was deathly still with so many bodies visible in the streets that he knew there weren’t many remaining, else they would have been cleaned up by now.

Mak’to’ran’s ship got clearance to enter low orbit and assurance from the remaining planetary defenses that they were allied to Da’gran, who now had operational control of the planet and whose loyal forces were current still in combat against the remnants of the arrogant. The Sess’nat wasn’t available for holocomm, but sent a message indicating where he wanted them to land.

That wasn’t what Mak’to’ran wanted to do, fearing this might be a trap…or at least an opportunity to strike at him in some last ditch bit of revenge, but the Era’tran dismissed the notion quickly. Itaru was wrecked, and as long as he went down with escorts there was nothing left here that could harm him with his warships overhead and gaps in the planetary shields for them to exploit if necessary.

Rather than going down by drop pod, he brought his Kafcha into the atmosphere and set it into a hover just over one of the oceans, on the rim of which Da’gran had indicated that they should meet him. Mak’to’ran didn’t bother with a drop pod, merely walking out of one of the hangars and falling the last few hundred meters to the ground and slowing his descent with his armor’s limited anti-grav. He came down with his blood red battleplates fully deployed, as did his escorts, which included four Era’tran, two Hjar’at, and 18 others from various races. He was not here as the leader of the Era’tran, he was here as leaded of the V’kit’no’sat and they all had a stake in protecting the single most important point of unity that remained within the empire.

The point of the rendezvous wasn’t a building or facility, but an empty bit of shoreline that hadn’t been hit by weaponsfire. Mak’to’ran, with his escorts flanking all around him in a protective sphere, walked across the sandy dunes to the water’s edge where a small group of Oso’lon and other land dwellers were standing with their feet in the water next to several aquatics wading in the shallows, including two J’gar and several dozen others, but Mak’to’ran saw no Sess’nat until he came to the water’s edge, then several hundred of them appeared in the distance as they came to the surface and swam towards him.

Da’gran and his own escorts.

Hamob walked by Mak’to’ran and down into the water himself, retracting his armor’s helmet as a Sess’nat swam up and retracted his own.

“Hamob. I am relieved to see you here.”

“Likewise,” the Era’tran said as they exchanged some private telepathic assurances and information swaps. “Seeing all this, I am surprised you survived.”

“The aquatics were less foolish than others. I was able to rally most here into some sanity, though many still died in combat. Those who wished to attack you would not relent and had to be destroyed. In the end they were shooting anyone on sight that was not one of them, and this is what resulted. The combat is not finished yet. Can you assist?”

“Most of our fleet is on the front, but we have a few ships already taking action.”

“Send them to the combat directly. My allies are beyond fatigued at this point. Where is Mak’to’ran?”

Hamob looked back and angled his head towards the other Era’tran still fully encased in his armor.

“Come here,” Da’gran said, with Mak’to’ran hesitating slightly before walking down to the water’s edge, but he would not step into it as he too retracted his helmet. The Sess’nat responded by walking up the shallows until he all but stood on his flippers before him, but still had to look up at the Era’tran’s huge head.

“What have you done here?” Mak’to’ran asked.

“What had to be done. What we should have done before most of the loyal V’kit’no’sat left to join you. The Zen’zat were the key to our narrow victory, else you would have had a significant assault force hitting your systems now, though I can’t vouch for those beyond Itaru. The fighting has occurred in almost all the systems that remained allied to Itaru, and some of those conflicts are not yet finished. There may still be a threat to your worlds.”

“Our defensive fleets have already been alerted. We will be able to weather whatever scraps are left here.”

“There may be more than scraps elsewhere, but I leave that to you. We have done what was needed to keep them from striking you, and on behalf of Itaru and many other systems we apologize for our lack of vision. Your defiance of the Elder Conclave was in fact wisdom, and we should have seen it before the traitors brought us to this. The Zen’zat sacrificed themselves en mass to ensure their fleets could not leave, and in payment for that the traitors turned on the civilian population. We could not save most of them. Itaru is now gutted, but it is yours. Your reforged empire is the legitimate one, and the survivors here ask for immediate reabsorption…with penalty if necessary, but we cannot be divided in the face of the Hadarak threat. We therefore surrender Itaru to you and ask that you move your Conclave here and take immediate possession.”

“Do you speak for all those remaining here?” Mak’to’ran asked.

“I do. Those remaining few who think otherwise are fighting and dying in the last refuges of rebellion.”

“What is the situation in the oceans?”

“Damaged, but in far better condition than the land.”

“I have heard your name in legend only, but now I count myself grateful that your reputation was not over-exaggerated and that you survived to summon me here. I lead the V’kit’no’sat, and while that is an unusual position for us, it comes with advantages. I need not consult the Conclave. All those here are officially absolved from previous misdeeds, contingent on unfettered cooperation from this point forward. We have an immense task before us and we cannot afford to waste time with recriminations. What has happened here is more than sufficient punishment to cover any previous crimes or lack of foresight.”

“And those still in combat?”

“Is there anything else you need from me immediately?”

“Other than for you to send the necessary messages through the Urrtren, no, you have done enough with that absolvement and I thank you for it. We never should have put you in the position of being a rebel, but you bore it well.”

“It was more him than you,” Mak’to’ran said, glancing at Hamob. “He will stay here with you and begin necessary restructuring while I take what troops I have to finish the fight here.”

“It will take more than that in the other systems. Not all of those fights are being won. There will be a lot of cleanup needed.”

“Itaru first,” Mak’to’ran said calmly. “Once centered here we can deal with the rest. What happened to the Elder Conclave?”

“All were killed, as far as I have been able to determine. Even those that withdrew before the fighting began were hunted down by the traitors and eliminated as a matter of principle.”

Mak’to’ran sneered. “Are those that remain inclined to surrender?”

“None have that I have been informed of.”

“So be it,” he declared, reactivating his helmet and turning away from the shore. “Then they will die with the rest of them and we will finish cleansing this system in blood.”

Hamob watched him and the others go, leaving only the Era’tran Elder behind as drop pods were flown down and picked up the V’kit’no’sat leader as more came out of the Kafcha and headed for the battlefields that remained.

“He will not be in danger,” Da’gran promised. “The traitors have little left to fight with. And neither do we.”

“Enough to save and refurbish,” Hamob said more optimistically. “The buildings do not matter to me as much as our unity, which is now restored.”

“It will not be for those who fought here. Many are numbed by the betrayal. Those who survived are damaged in ways that a Kich’a’kat cannot fix.”

“I understand, but those wounds can be healed with time.”

“Not all. This planet carries the stench of betrayal too thick to eliminate entirely.”

“Forthcoming hatchlings will not bear it.”

“I am not worried about them. We are supposed to be better than this. I regret not keeping a closer watch on my race as you have.”

“If they had been worthy V’kit’no’sat they would not have needed your constant oversight.”

“My not realizing they were inferior is fault on me.”

“No,” Hamob said firmly as he looked around at the carnage in the distance. “They brought this on themselves. Our responsibility lies in picking up the pieces.”

“I do not absolve myself for this. I let hatchlings do the unthinkable because I underestimated their corruption. That will not happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” Hamob agreed. “We’ll both make sure of that.”

9

March 4, 3696

Teor’cho System (Itaru faction territory)

Vidia

In the weeks that followed his arrival in Itaru, Mak’to’ran spent most of his time personally fighting the remainder of the arrogant until they could get more troops there from other systems. After that he backed off from personal combat and led the reunification efforts at Hamob’s request while others directed the majority of the fighting. Itaru was so beat up that there wasn’t much for Mak’to’ran to do other than give the survivors a focal point to rally around…and rally they did.

Gone were the arrogant, having died or woken up to their stupidity. Half the capitol lay in ruins and the Hadarak were pushing out from the core. The V’kit’no’sat empire was severely weakened and the inevitable fall against the forces of the heretics responsible for Terraxis was a moot point now, for unless they were able to stop the current invasion the Hadarak would destroy the V’kit’no’sat for them.

Most of the survivors recognized this fact in addition to the realization of how far gone the arrogant were when they chose to move against Mak’to’ran rather than fight the Hadarak. There was a lot of self-reflection going on as basic repairs were begun in the stable areas and reports from the front continued to spill in. Thankfully the Urrtren relays hadn’t been hit in the fighting, so connectivity with the rest of the empire remained…with it becoming clear that while the arrogant in Itaru had been decimated there were others throughout the Itaru faction still in power and currently fighting a civil war against the ‘rebels’ amongst them…with the arrogant winning some of the fights.

So Mak’to’ran had assembled scraps of ships from across the empire, lowering basic defensive fleets dangerously thin, and pulled together an armada that he led out from Itaru to aid the rebels and put an end to the arrogant once and for all via conquest. He hated wasting resources on infighting, but this had to be done and done quickly, else in the long term the V’kit’no’sat were doomed. Already more Hadarak were coming forward to test additional areas, and if they sensed enough weakness they would start coming out in numbers that would break the V’kit’no’sat’s hold on the galaxy.

Thankfully there were many other commanders capable of fighting the Hadarak, some more skilled than Mak’to’ran, that had immediately volunteered to go into the combat zones and lead the pushback, some of which had ‘retired’ from active combat long ago. Beyond the Itaru faction the empire was pulling together quickly and only a month ago the Conclave on Vviot had moved, returning to the V’kit’no’sat capitol in Itaru and becoming the sole Elder Conclave. The original one had been destroyed in the fighting and Mak’to’ran was glad he wasn’t going to have to try to integrate the two. The carnage that had taken place was unbearable, but it did leave him with a clean start to work from.

Currently Mak’to’ran was directing the battle of Vidia from orbit as his limited fleet bombarded a heavy planetary shield whose anti-orbital weaponry had temporarily been disabled thanks to ground teams that had landed on other parts of the planet. He had to get through the shields before they came back online, otherwise his fleet would have to pull back and a very costly ground war would have to be waged…which was something Mak’to’ran did not have the patience for.

Some 4,923 ships sat in orbit and pounded away, but without the luxury of a Mach’nel aiding them with Tar’vem’jic. All those possessed by the V’kit’no’sat were now on the Hadarak front trying to slow down the invasion as much as possible, including those recovered from the arrogant in recent weeks. That hadn’t been Mak’to’ran’s doing, but rather rebels from within that took control or lowered weapons and shields at the right moment for Mak’to’ran’s troops to get onboard and take control. Had he been forced to fight them he would have lost most of his armada, but thankfully there was enough loyalty left within the empire to bring them together quickly as more and more resources flowed to the Hadarak front.

Vidia was one of several fights remaining, but there was no victory waiting for the arrogant. The best they could hope for was to hold out and force a stalemate. They had no fleets to push out into other systems with, but Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to let them hold onto what they had and try to spread their poison through the empire again. They were an infection that had to be purged here and now, no matter how long it kept him away from the Hadarak.

As he monitored the orbital bombardment another ship entered the system. It was an Era’tran Dak’bri bearing Hamob’s insignia, drawing a bit of curiosity from Mak’to’ran. Hamob was supposed to be in Itaru, and if he needed something from him he would have sent a message through the Urrtren. Him being here in person said either something was seriously wrong or there was a matter to attend to that was too sensitive to send across comm channels.

Seeing that the shield was almost breached he ignored Hamob temporarily and personally targeted the myriad of locations exposed once the energy barrier started to show holes. Such things were tricky to do, not knowing how long the shield would be weak and, more importantly, how long the planetary defense weaponry would be down. Using precision weaponsfire, Mak’to’ran clipped power relays, comm centers, and made disabling but not overly destructive wounds to the shield generators and larger guns before turning over the mop up work to his subordinates, then he took a drop pod away from his fleet as they continued to rain down firepower onto the planet.

He met up with Hamob’s ship in a slightly higher orbit and went onboard, with the Elder Era’tran not saying what the purpose of his visit was and that he had to speak with the V’kit’no’sat leader in person.

Mak’to’ran didn’t find that surprising, so he went straight over and met Hamob in the hangar bay where he immediately began to pick up some signs of agitation. If he hadn’t spent time with him before he wouldn’t have noticed, but Hamob was definitely uneasy about whatever he had to tell him.

What has happened? Mak’to’ran demanded telepathically.

Nothing negative, Hamob assured him. But there is uncertainty in the future that I need you to support or we could be embroiled in another war.

Against who?

You will see soon. I have revealed most of my secrets to you, but this one I dared not risk until the empire was reunited and you were in firm control. However, with the Hadarak winning at present, I believe we need to take the chance now. It will not make a great difference, but it could make a small one…and we need every advantage we can get.

What is it? Mak’to’ran asked as the two began to walk out of the hangar.

Something you will not like…and something many may call me a traitor for.

I am used to being called traitor. Tell me.

I will show you, but I need your promise that you will not engage in combat.

Is there a threat onboard?

Some might think so, but no, there is not. I need your word you will think, not engage.

I will hear you out. What have you brought onboard?

You will see soon, Hamob said cryptically, then he refused to comment further as they continued through the ship to a secure area with guards outside. The pair passed them by, moving into a virtually abandoned section of the ship that felt eerily empty…which was when he realized that he couldn’t feel the rest of the ship either.

“Psionic dampeners?”

“Yes,” Hamob confirmed. “You will see why they are necessary shortly.”

Mak’to’ran took him at his word and followed without further question up until they came to a closed doorway, then Hamob looked at him warily.

“Do not engage,” he reminded him.

“Why would I?”

“Because you have before,” Hamob said, mentally opening the door and walking in.

Mak’to’ran followed him, seeing a barracks area with numerous alcoves on either side where Era’tran would be berthed along with large padded seats in the center of the large open area that were currently empty…except they weren’t, and several tiny heads popped up from the other side at the sound of their entrance.

Reflexively Mak’to’ran activated his armor, expanding out and covering his body in battleplates before he even realized he did it as Hamob stepped in front of him.

“Stand down. They are here under my protection,” the Elder Era’tran said as four much smaller bipeds hopped over the cushions and cautiously walked up behind him. They were not wearing armor, and Mak’to’ran clamped down on old reflexes while lowering his own, staring past Hamob at the four milk/white-skinned bipeds as they locked eyes with him, tipping their heads sideways and back again in annoyingly familiar fashion.

He looked at Mak’to’ran. “Explain.”

“I’ve been in contact with them for many years,” Hamob admitted, drawing a shocked look from Mak’to’ran. “I had a few scout ships pushing into Hadarak territory on assignments for the work we were doing delving into the mystery of the Zak’de’ron. I wanted confirmation of several assumed facts concerning the Hadarak but the Elder Conclave never would have given permission. One of my ships came across an inhabited system within Hadarak territory. They have several, and have been holding off their attacks repeatedly…on their own. You know they had some legitimate reasons for what they did, so I attempted to open up a line of communication and they responded cautiously. We’ve had a dialog ever since, and even before I sent you out to become the rebel leader we needed, they have wanted to rejoin the V'kit'no’sat.”

“Rejoin?” Mak’to’ran said, looking at the tiny Rit’ko’sor. “For what purpose?”

“Errors were made on both sides,” Hamob interjected. “But we are still brothers, and a reuniting will strengthen the V’kit’no’sat in the long run. You can do this, because you hold leadership of the V’kit’no’sat and are trusted.”

“Do what?” he demanded, walking around Hamob and looking down at the closest of the Rit’ko’sor. “Speak.”

“Our rebellion was not a rejection of the mandate of the V’kit’no’sat, but of the bad leadership. Ever since the Zak’de’ron were purged the V’kit’no’sat were tainted. We did our duty to fight it, and now that the old order is gone we wish to rejoin the empire on the original terms.”

“How have you survived in Hadarak territory?” Mak’to’ran demanded.

“With blood,” the Rit’ko’sor said sharply. “We knew it was a place you would not go, so while our race was regaining our honor we also took several systems from the Hadarak. They were not in them, but somehow they knew when we arrived and have sought to continually repel us. We have fought and won each time, but at great cost. We acquired 8 systems and have not expanded beyond that…and you have not probed deep enough into Hadarak territory to find us. We had our freedom.”

“At the cost of nearly your entire race,” Mak’to’ran countered.

“There was no other way.”

“And now?”

“We have always been loyal V’kit’no’sat. It was the empire that turned against us…or more pointedly, we who turned against those who created the empire. The Zak’de’ron were the bond that held us together, kept our purpose pure. We betrayed them under false pretenses, to our continual shame, but we regained our honor when we rejected the other betrayers. We are loyal to the true V’kit’no’sat, and if the empire is returning to purpose, we wish to rejoin it and help to one day destroy the Hadarak.”

“I cannot believe you still survive there,” Mak’to’ran admitted. “What strength do you possess?”

“Enough, but our population is low. We cannot assist much in the present, but if we are allowed to come out into the galaxy again we can regrow quickly if not hobbled.”

“8 systems is nothing,” Mak’to’ran decreed. “You cannot field enough ships to continually fight the Hadarak.”

“We learned new ways to fight them.”

“How?”

“They cannot jam our communications, and no one else of consequence is in Hadarak territory. We rebuilt our fleet specifically to fight them, and in order to preserve our limited population we fight using unmanned vessels.”

Mak’to’ran’s head flipped to Hamob immediately, but the Elder Era’tran shot down his question before he even had time to ask it.

“They are not the Terraxis sponsor. Until I found them they could not risk exposure. They have not left Hadarak territory since the Rebellion.”

“Their techniques are superior to yours,” another Rit’ko’sor said bluntly. “We had to adapt and learn, as did the heretics that Hamob has told us of. Fighting the Hadarak with manned vessels is foolishness, yet remotely controlled vessels have a weakness against other races. The V’kit’no’sat waste more people fighting the Hadarak than they would lose against other threats that exploited comm weaknesses, and you have not learned. You repeat the same strategies and only adapt when forced to. We have been forced to day after day in order to survive, so we are in a better situation to advise how to fight them than you are. We can contribute in that regard immediately.”

“Are you aware how many Rit’ko’sor I have personally killed?” Mak’to’ran all but growled.

“Less than the number of Era’tran we killed,” another of them said, glaring up at the much bigger biped. “We are both covered in blood, and we wish to cleanse ourselves of it by building a new future rather than living in the past.”

Mak’to’ran turned away, walking sideways past Hamob as he visibly struggled with the situation presented to him.

“I should shoot you,” he whispered.

“If you think it would help,” Hamob offered sarcastically.

“This was your plan all along?”

“Part of it,” he admitted. “The Zak’de’ron are gone. We have to replace them. And by we I mean the Era’tran. If the Oso’lon or J’gar advance, then that is a welcome thing. But you and I both know they are stuck in their ways. If we are even going to begin to match the level of the Zak’de’ron we cannot be held back by our new peers. We must exceed them. If the Zak’de’ron were still here, they could pardon the Rit’ko’sor. If we are to replace them, we must begin to take on their responsibilities and powers.”

“The Era’tran cannot do this from their current standing,” Mak’to’ran said evenly, “but you think I can?”

“Yes, you can.”

“The others will not agree to it.”

“Would the Zak’de’ron care? Or would they just order it so.”

Mak’to’ran huffed. “We may aspire to their level, but we are far from it. You know this better than I do.”

“Agreed, but the empire is hurt, the Hadarak are unleashed, and Terraxis remains a lingering poison. You are all that is pure and unblemished. You are the heart of the V’kit’no’sat now, regardless of what the Oso’lon and J’gar say. Terraxis still clings to them like a noose. You are their alibi. You have the leverage, and now you must use it for the benefit of the empire.”

Mak’to’ran sneered and turned back to the Rit’ko’sor, walking directly up to them and wishing the psionic dampeners were not in place, else he would have forced his way into their minds to test their strength…and if lacking he would have gained the answers to their true motivation.

“If you have held off the Hadarak all these millennia then you have skill worthy of respect, but the scars from your rebellion are still fresh.”

“More for us than you, I can guarantee that, large one.”

“Perhaps so. Do you have surveillance of them beyond your systems?”

“We do.”

“Can you tell me their current strength and locations?”

“Somewhat. They move around a great deal, and every now and then a large mass of them will come out from the deep core as if on patrol. They do not go to the front. They come near it, passing through both wrecked and intact systems, but they do not feed on them. They make their rounds and return.”

“How large?”

“Tier 3 and above. Twice we have detected a single tier 6 with them.”

Mak’to’ran’s body felt an icy chill run through it. As far as the V’kit’no’sat knew, there was no such thing as a tier 6.

“How large?” he repeated, this time with different consequence.

“Too large for us to fight. For some reason those patrols never passed through our territory, and unless they enter ours we avoid all conflict with them. Perhaps they underestimate our strength or do not fear us, but they do test us with their smaller ones. Or maybe they are testing themselves in some form of ritual or training.”

“But their greatest power is still lying dormant within the core?”

“Yes. And if it comes out there will be nothing you can do to stop it. I have personally seen one that is planet-sized. We have been trying to develop weapons capable of fighting that, but nothing of consequence has arisen. That said, we have made developments, or rather improvements, to other weaponry.”

“Equal to what we possess?”

“Greater.”

“You have advanced that far in exile?”

“We stole the blueprints for what you would not share during the war, then improved upon them. We’ve had ample opportunity to field test them in battle.”

“How much of an improvement have you made?”

“We’ve increased effectiveness against their armor by 23%.”

Mak’to’ran took an involuntary step back. “Then you have accomplished more than the empire has in your absence,” he said, glancing at Hamob.

“We have become lax,” the Elder Era’tran agreed, “without the Zak’de’ron leading us.”

“No longer,” Mak’to’ran decreed. “I will not let that mistake continue, and if you can vouch for them, I will make this reunification happen...as painful as it will be.”

“I would not have brought them to you if I felt otherwise,” Hamob said evenly. “We both need this.”

“Treat us fairly and we will do likewise,” the Rit’ko’sor said. “But we will not be trampled on again. Hamob has convinced us that the Era’tran and you, specifically, will not allow that to happen.”

“Has he?” Mak’to’ran asked, starting to feel the old animosities slacken a bit. As he and Hamob had discussed, the Rit’ko’sor Rebellion was not wholly uncalled for. “I know Rit’ko’sor well. You are not to be trusted, given what you accomplished…yet to have survived against the Hadarak as you have is no small feat. It is something that we have never done. For that reason I will regard you as you are, not as you were. If you wish to rejoin the V’kit’no’sat on honorable terms, then so be it. We will need all the help we can get to deal with this Hadarak invasion.”

“And those honorable terms?”

“Will be discussed now,” Mak’to’ran said firmly as he glanced at Hamob, once again acknowledging his wisdom. “We have no time to waste.”

10

November 19, 3696

Itaru System (V’kit’no’sat capitol)

Wendigama

No smoke rose from the capitol, but the damage from the fighting still remained. Priority in repairs had gone to the planetary defenses, leaving the wrecked buildings clustered into regions visible from orbit as the debris and deconstruction was resulting in small clearings within the cityscape.

One non-defense structure that had also been given priority was the Elder Conclave. The original facility had been destroyed during the fighting and the one Mak’to’ran was walking into now was freshly built and inhabited by those leaders from his rebel Conclave with a few additions. Each race represented here was having to go through its own reconciliation with their various factions with only the Era’tran and a handful of others with fully intact leadership. Even the Oso’lon and J’gar were having to reincorporate those survivors from the Itaru faction…but no Era’tran had joined them, though many had stayed and died to hold territory here.

They’d been caught up in the fighting and contributed greatly to the rebels, but they’d always been under the leadership of Holloi. Their race was united, the others weren’t, and that gave them a bit more authority in the transition as everyone scrambled to reunite as fast as possible to counter the Hadarak as a single empire rather than an alliance of factions.

Mak’to’ran walked with a phalanx of Era’tran and Zen’zat escorts with him in the lead and the others fanning out into a narrow ‘V’ that encompassed the 14 Rit’ko’sor that he was taking into the Elder Conclave. Everyone knew they were coming, for the revelation of their existence and the infighting that resulted from it had already passed, but Mak’to’ran and the Era’tran were adamant that this was going to happen and even the Oso’lon and J’gar reluctantly accepted his decision…though with the taint of Terraxis still on their heads they didn’t have the leverage to try and overrule him.

The other races were mixed about the reinclusion until Mak’to’ran had revealed that the Rit’ko’sor had knowledge and technology specifically tailored to fight the Hadarak. That had swayed some, and those that remained wholly opposed to the reabsorption of the treasonous race had it personally explained to them by Mak’to’ran that he was in command of the empire and he was making the decision…and that they would dishonor it at their own peril.

No one wanted to cross him, so while the Rit’ko’sor drew an amazing amount of attention on approach to the Elder Conclave there were no security breaches. No assassination attempts or mischief, though Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to be able to guard them forever. That said, this initial transition was going to be the most jarring so he was going to walk them through it personally and dare anyone to defy him. Hopefully that would keep the races in line long enough for the reality of the situation to sink in as the Hadarak pushed into more and more systems with a growing line of V’kit’no’sat evacuees fleeing the border worlds.

When they actually got to the Elder Conclave the Hjar’at guardians admitted him and the Rit’ko’sor with his escorts staying outside and adding to the guard. Mak’to’ran walked in with mixed feelings. In the past every time he had been here he had been awed by the sanctity of the location. This was the heart of the V’kit’no’sat Empire and the place where decisions of great magnitude were made. He’d been respectful and admiring of it…but now he was not. It was a functioning and necessary body, but one that he now outranked.

Additionally, he knew that the highest level decisions were not made here as the triad within the V’kit’no’sat worked on its own to guide the empire into the future while the Elder Conclave provided more of a maintenance function…though few knew that. The Yaern’ek led the Era’tran knowing that the wisest leaders were giving them instruction, but the Elder Conclave did not. Many secrets that Mak’to’ran now knew were kept from them, and for good reason, but at least they knew that he outranked the Conclave, so the deception was less than it once was.

The Oso’lon and J’gar had perpetuated a lie and held ultimate power for themselves, but as the Zak’de’ron had learned, the true power of the V’kit’no’sat lie in their masses who were represented here in the Conclave…and Mak’to’ran was going to work towards the true unity that had been promised them, but before they could get to that point the Era’tran had to attain the mantle of the Zak’de’ron.

Mak’to’ran doubted the Oso’lon or J’gar would get there. They were obsessed with maintaining what they had rather than reaching beyond. They were comfortable with the lie of superiority over the Zak’de’ron, but the Era’tran were not. And today was going to be one of many steps going forward where the Era’tran gradually took over. Not to crush the other races under their feet, but to elevate and bring them into a community of brotherhood that Mak’to’ran had thought he’d hatched into. The parts of reality that were a lie were going to be removed and replaced with something real…and the Era’tran were the only ones capable of doing that.

In truth, Mak’to’ran was the only one capable of bringing the Oso’lon and J’gar to heel. Him and the fact that Terraxis was still a mystery and suspicion remained. That said, they were not inclined to relinquish control, so Mak’to’ran was going to have to remake the empire piece by piece over time, and reabsorbing the Rit’ko’sor was the first step in that…for they did not want the Rit’ko’sor back. They wanted them tracked down and annihilated.

But they didn’t get what they wanted, and this would be just the first of many things that the Era’tran would overrule them on, further diminishing their dominance within the empire as they had no choice but to give ground or face a revolt against them if they behaved as if they were the traitors…and fighting against Mak’to’ran would do that, for he was the single individual that was seen as incorruptible within the empire.

And he was going to milk that for all it was worth until the V’kit’no’sat became what they’d been promised to be long ago...assuming they survived that long.

Mak’to’ran led the way into the Elder Conclave, walking slowly as the Rit’ko’sor ran to keep pace as they wound their way through the large pedestals on which the Elders rested, separated by races. Mak’to’ran took the Rit’ko’sor to their pedestal, with the 14 of them leaping up on top of it and making themselves at home as they used their reinstated genetic code to interface with the computer systems and bring up a myriad of holographic displays of data that they had been denied for millennia.

There were several groans of disgust audible in the chamber, but no one made any outward comments of resentment. Mak’to’ran knew those would be bouncing as telepathic communications back and forth between individuals as private communications, but so long as they didn’t interfere with the Rit’ko’sor this would progress smoothly…at least as long as he was here.

Mak’to’ran left the Rit’ko’sor on their pedestal then walked to the center of the chamber rather than to the other Era’tran. There he mounted an elevating tower that pulled him up above the head height of all the others, allowing them to see him easily from all positions across the 6 mile wide chamber, though when he spoke a hologram of him appeared on all the pedestals, for as large as most of the V’kit’no’sat were, fitting them all in here made it difficult to see in detail over the distances involved.

For Mak’to’ran’s part he liked his new position, above everyone else and somewhat disconnected. He wasn’t a manager like most of these Elders were. He was a warrior who preferred to be on the front lines, but in the fight to rebuild the V’kit’no’sat this was the front lines, and before they could ever think of defeating the Hadarak they had to destroy the distrust and inequity within the empire, so he had more types of combat ahead of him than ever before in his life…and that suited him just fine.

“Today a lingering fissure in our empire is resealed,” he said, addressing the entire Conclave as he looked out over the expanse and down at them, with the tiny Zen’zat attending the Elders barely visible. “I, like many others, fought and killed Rit’ko’sor during their rebellion. The memories of those days I will forever carry with me…as I should. We were in a war against our own brothers, which is something that should never occur within the V’kit’no’sat. Returning the surviving Rit’ko’sor to us cannot undo the damage done, but it can right a lingering wrong. They are part of us, and it is a part that we have been missing for some time.”

“For those of you who say they cannot be trusted, I will ask you this…who sponsored Terraxis?”

Mak’to’ran let that question hang in silence while seeing the Oso’lon twitch with discomfort at the subject while the J’gar were submerged in their pool and out of sight.

“That answer I cannot give you. I have searched long and hard, but cannot discover their identity and we no longer have time to look for them. We must unify now, else we could be forever divided while the sponsors hide in anonymity and use that to further harm us. What I can tell you of them is that the deepest poison within the V’kit’no’sat began long ago when we turned our backs on those who created us. The Zak’de’ron…a name most of you are unfamiliar with due to rewrites of our history. They are the forbearers of the Les’i’kron and responsible for creating the V’kit’no’sat to defend the galaxy against the Hadarak.”

“We turned on them out of greed and vanity, annihilating them and creating the Les’i’kron in their place to fill the void…but the distrust never was replaced. We had destroyed, not culled, one of our own and ever since there has been suspicion amongst us of it happening again. When the Rit’ko’sor rebelled, their fight was not a wholly unjust one. What they did was not right, but what we did to them was also not right. We denied them true brotherhood and they struck out against the poison within the V’kit’no’sat…poison that also spawned Terraxis. So I ask you this. Which of us held to the ideals of the V’kit’no’sat? The empire or the Rit’ko’sor?”

That did not go over well, with massive telepathic and vocal objections, though Mak’to’ran had expected nothing less.

“The fighting between us was the result of the first betrayal and the poison it created, gradually eating away at the bonds that are the basis for our empire. Those bonds must be reforged, here and now. The Rit’ko’sor are returning to us at their request, and I am granting them full membership again. Let the past remain as it is while we build into the future. Do not forget it. Do not rewrite it. Learn from it or be doomed to repeat it. We have now fought 3 internal wars…all of which are a disgrace. We are V’kit’no’sat. We are meant to fight the Hadarak, not each other, and while I lead that is exactly what we will do.”

“We will seek out any further poison amongst us and purge it when we find it, but we will not wait until it is found to reforge our bonds of trust. I am trusting the Rit’ko’sor and they are trusting me to reveal themselves as they have. If anyone betrays them you will be betraying me…and I will deal with you accordingly. I do not expect you to forget the past, nor to forgive, but do not poison future hatchings with a conflict that is now over. They will grow up as equals while those of us who lived through the rebellion remain. We should not forget, but we should not make them reflect us. We are V’kit’no’sat. We are meant to be one. Let the hatchlings be one and know nothing else, and as we grow those of us that fought each other will be in the minority. Then, perhaps, we can reflect the younger ones and perhaps forgive…but we will never forget. That is the price of betrayal and a poison that we must carry, but never act on again.”

“Three times now we have fought one another, and I will personally assure that it does not happen again. If there is any evidence of treason, bring it directly to me and I will deal with it. You can trust in me while you slowly relearn how to trust one another, and that begins with reintegrating the Rit’ko’sor.”

“Their population is small, but what they’ve accomplished against the Hadarak is greater than what all of us combined have done. They bring with them knowledge and technology that we lack, and we have already begun refitting ships with the enhanced weaponry. Likewise I am designating new worlds for the Rit’ko’sor to colonize and begin rebuilding their massive population…as well as new worlds for the rest of the races to expand into. Our empire has to grow in order to one day defeat the Hadarak…and make no mistake, that is still and always will be our top priority, no matter how impossible it may appear.”

“We must grow, we must learn, we must adapt. We cannot simply maintain. I will guide you forward, as will others who have the foresight to move the empire into the future while others seek to keep it rooted in the past. All of you must learn, self-analyze, and jettison the stagnation within you. We are at war and have no time for games…and those inclined to play them will removed from this Conclave. It is not a privilege to be here, but a great responsibility. You will acquit that responsibility or you will be removed…not through death, but through disgrace or your own resignation. If you cannot handle the responsibilities then step down and allow one who can to replace you. Do not wait and force me to do it.”

“As for building the equity that we have been lacking, the psionic restrictions of races is being altered as of now. A few of you will get additional psionics best befitting your biology, but the greatest change is that the elite troops in each race will be able to earn psionics they were not born with. The requirements will be difficult, but a pathway will be established for those that are worthy to gain greater power…and the more powerful we become the more we can press into the Hadarak.”

“But there is no time for that now. The pathways are being established but it will take time for individuals to make their way through them. Many things are building towards the future, but we have a present threat that we must face head on. There will be no fighting amongst us that I do not personally sanction. All races will send their entire fleets minus a minimum amount for defensive measures against other threats in this galaxy to rendezvous points along the front where I and other commanders more skilled than me will unite them into V’kit’no’sat fleets and do what the empire was created to do…fight and kill Hadarak.”

“We will lose many ships. We will lose many planets before the Hadarak are driven back. But we will lose far more if we do not send our full force against them here and now. Those who have been in combat against the Hadarak know this, for only with overwhelming force can we effectively fight them.”

“So I command you now. Send forth your fleets while you repair your territory and increase your numbers. We will take losses that must be replaced, so I am issuing an immediate cessation of population limits until this invasion is blunted. After which we will detail an acceptable growth plan for all races to guard against overpopulation…but right now such concerns are foolish. We are at war, and it is time to fight,” Mak’to’ran said, igniting his Saroto’kanse’vam with the red glow visible across the Conclave even without the holographic relays.

“I am V’kit’no’sat, and I expect all of you to behave as such going forward. If I have to return from the front to deal with those who are not…I will not be forgiving. Defeating the Hadarak now will be difficult. Destroying them once and for all will require an empire that does not make mistakes. An empire that is fully unified and willing to die alongside each other without hesitation. An empire that is focused on our purpose and one that is far superior to what we are today. We cannot match their power now, for we are pathetic by comparison. If they threw their full strength at us we would be wiped out, but they do not. They hide in the galactic core…and that is where we must ultimately go.”

“To do that we must become better, and I will not tolerate anyone who accepts the status quo. Our destiny lies in combat with the Hadarak…today and into the infinite future…and it is time we accepted and embraced that fact.”

“The term V’kit’no’sat means ‘hunter of Hadarak’ and that is what we are going to become again. The Zak’de’ron are gone, but we will become the V’kit’no’sat we were meant to be…and I will kill anyone who stands in the way of that. I will suffer fools no longer. Stand up to the challenges we face or stand aside, for we are going forward into the maw of an uncertain and dangerous future, and we will not be flinching. We may fail and die, but we will not surrender. The Hadarak must be destroyed and only true V’kit’no’sat have a chance of accomplishing that impossible feat…therefore true V’kit’no’sat we must become.”

“And that rebirth will occur in battle. The Hadarak are upon us and I will waste no more words here. The Elder Conclave will do its duty and I will do mine, therefore I am heading to the front immediately. Act wisely, act quickly, act bravely. Doom or glory is upon us, and our actions today will determine what tomorrow will wrought,” he said, triggering the tower to lower.

Before he got to the bottom a telepathic chant broke out, one he hadn’t heard for a long time. It was like a song, but one without words, only a pulse.

And that pulse increased as he got to the chamber floor and walked off towards the distance exit, then on impulse he began running and the pulse increased even more into a cascade that had his blood boiling with rage and pride, for it was a call to war and the bloody deeds that must come to push back the Hadarak, but now it contained something new. A hope of ultimate victory someday in the distant future, and Mak’to’ran was going to pursue it to the end of his days, however they came about.

Halfway across the Conclave Mak’to’ran roared and pulse his Jumat, throwing ripples of air across the delegations closest to him with the already deafening telepathic pulsing ratcheting up another notch as the larger land races added a physical stomp to the rhythm that matched every fourth step of Mak’to’ran’s as the sole leader of the V’kit’no’sat raced out of the Conclave and straight to a waiting drop pod that took him up to orbit where his Kafcha was ready to speed him back to the front where fellow V’kit’no’sat were already fighting and dying to try and turn this Hadarak invasion back.

And soon, Mak’to’ran and the might of the unified V’kit’no’sat empire would be joining them.

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Table of Contents

- Star Force: Mak'to'ran (1)

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- Star Force: Mak'to'ran (2)

- Star Force: Mak'to'ran (3)

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- Star Force: Mak'to'ran (4)

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- Star Force: Mak'to'ran (5)

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