Star Force: Reclaimers
Author: Aer-Ki Jyr
Date: 2020-11-18T22:00:00+00:00
Publisher: Archon Lore

1

December 1, 154965

Pliskin System (Lovak Kingdom)

Snake Four

Until recently, the Lovak Kingdom had been on the outer edge of Star Force a quarter of the way around the galactic perimeter from Earth. Star Force territory there was a thin conduit of Kingdoms tracing around the Hula Hoop, with large chunks of unexplored territory beyond.

Due to recent initiatives, a new Kingdom was forming on what had originally been the outer edge as Conquest Fleets were constantly moving into the lightly mapped areas and making contact with the locals…as well as drawing out the bad guys by various means so they could identify them and deal with the threat however necessary. The Conquest Fleets were laying claim to uninhabited systems, arranging for embassies to be built on the friendly worlds they found, and were constantly busy hunting down raiders, hijackers, slavers, meat traders, kidnappers, and all other manner of skullduggery that was virtually eliminated inside Star Force systems.

But out here, things were a great deal more wild, even in the Lovak Kingdom, whose majority of systems were neutral or uninhabited. It was thinly populated with Star Force worlds, and Lord Byron had been tasked with growing it over time, but his efforts had been greatly hampered by the war effort, with a great deal of industrial output being shipped to the Grand Border to fuel the fleets fighting there.

But Byron wasn’t completely shut down, and was continuing to develop his very frontier Kingdom a little bit here and a little bit there, and he was happy that his outer border was no longer going to be up against the wilds, even if it the new Kingdom in the making was only going to have a loose hold on the area once it got up and running. That, at least, would push a lot of the scum further out and leave his neighbors alone, for the Lord didn’t have many military assets left to him, and there were far too many systems not under his control for him to keep running patrols through constantly.

Nefron had been in contact with him regularly after the first meeting on the Kingdom capitol of High Ground, named for yet another Star Wars reference. One would think the Archons had run out of them by now, but there seemed to be no end. The Chixzon wondered how many people even realized how many names they assigned came from their past fiction that they clung to so automatically it had made Nefron investigate the matter. He hadn’t been able to determine why exactly that was, but guessed it was the commonality that bound them together through the culture in which they were born…a culture that no longer existed, so it served as a sort of secret code they could speak in, but why they continued naming things as such he didn’t fully understand.

He’d considered asking them about it, but had decided against that method. It was possible they didn’t understand their own motivation, and asking them about it might cloud the subject even more, so he’d let it go for the most part, but every new reference he saw he cataloged as one more bit of data to one day use to figure out the riddle of why they chose to make so many things from their past, and above all the rest, those of Star Wars…which he’d made himself indulge in to the point where he could quote the movies and tv series from memory, along with a few of the books.

Nefron still didn’t see the point of it all, but at least he could now spot the references where other people missed them.

And it was in the High Ground System that he was offered a new position in Star Force. One that he did not want at the time, but after a few years of thinking it over he finally relented and took the position that Director Davis had left on the table if he ever changed his mind.

Now Nefron was a Reclaimer…another reference to a different Old Earth Fiction…and he had accepted the task of vetting and putting to use any of the Chixzon prisoners that had opted for surrender rather than death when Star Force had located and boarded their hidden cities floating beyond star systems where no one would know to look.

Except Star Force had found a leak, and from that one leak they tracked down more and more until the whole Chixzon network was taken down…or so they thought. Nefron wasn’t sure they hadn’t missed something, for the encryption the Chixzon had been using seemed too weak for his satisfaction. And despite their attempts to delete all data…which they did achieve sometimes…enough willing and unwilling prisoners had been taken to search their minds for links to other Chixzon, and some 1.3 million survivors had been gathered from across the galaxy and brought to the Lovak Kingdom where a special indoctrination center had been built for them.

That’s why Nefron had been here to begin with. To assist with those efforts. Then one day he’d been summoned to the Lord’s world where a transmission from the Director had laid out the offer to him, with Bryon able to fill in any additional details he required.

The offer had been logical, and if Nefron had wished to return to being a Protovic he could have done so long ago…yet he’d always held that as a possibility, deciding that it just wasn’t time yet, but something that would come along later.

But the offer and the subsequent deliberations had underscored one thing for him personally…and that he was never going back to being a Protovic.

That saddened him when he first realized the truth…and the truth was that being Chixzon was superior. The ‘Protovic’ in him was a symbol of what Star Force was, what Nefron truly was, and he’d had to fight to get that back early on when the programming in his mind ruled him.

But now, the programming was moot. He was in control, and had found himself again, inside this Chixzon body and this Chixzon intellect. The genetic memories of others didn’t sway him. At this point they were more of a personal library he could access whenever he needed. He was Star Force through and through once again, though he did miss his glowing skin…which was why he often opted to wear glowing clothing…but when it came to sneaking around, his Chixzon black was highly preferable to the Protovic colors, and he no longer saw the black as an endless void of the darkside. Not for him anyway.

The other Chixzon were an entirely different story.

He’d been in contact with them since the beginning of their indoctrination, and had remained to monitor and catch the cheating he knew they would pull. They had intended on playing the Star Force game only to keep their true motivations hidden until they could escape into the Star Force Empire and quietly start their scheming all over again.

Nefron had shut that down quickly, though they didn’t know it was him doing it. He was able to sift through those who were legitimately willing to change and those who were pretending, and it was the few that were truly trying to learn that had ultimately made the decision for him. They would do well enough with other Star Force personnel guiding them, but nobody could do what Nefron could do, for nobody understood what it meant to be Chixzon except another Chixzon.

And now that he had some additional information on what the Chixzon had been before their ‘fall’ he understood his own mind better. They had been a great race once, at least in largess. They’d been spread across 4 galaxies, not dominating any of them, but having a strong presence in all. They’d been primarily scientists and data analysts, trading their skills for raw materials that others would bring them, and in doing so became almost a parasite on other races, but apparently in a less intrusive manner than the Chixzon of the present would have been.

Something had happened and their civilization was destroyed in short order, with the scattered remnants morphing into the Chixzon and embracing the darkside to ensure their survival. And survival was the most important instinct within a Chixzon. Even now Nefron could feel it in himself. The urge to run and hide rather than fight and die. The urge to cunningly outwit your opponents, or nature itself, and find a way to escape the certain doom of others. It had been encoded into the Chixzon genome either by design or by adaptation, and it seemed to have originated from whatever happened to their previous civilization, known only as the Ni’o’zon’chi.

The name was similar to Chixzon, but Nefron’s genetic memories didn’t contain it or the history of his race prior to their current incarnation. But something massive had happened, and they were now the fallen remnants of something greater…and that meant something. He hadn’t been able to piece it together yet, but it was significant. He could feel it. And the more he interacted with the other Chixzon the more the sensation grew that they were meant for something. Something that had been lost and shrouded in the darkside of their rebirth.

Nefron knew it had to do with outside this galaxy, and that the Chixzon could either wither here and die off completely, or they could try to reclaim their past legacy and use it to enhance Star Force. And for that simple reason Nefron had accepted Davis’s offer and became the fourth ‘Reclaimer’ in the empire, though the total number had now risen to 6 the last he’d heard. And like the others, he was uniquely suited to reclaim the lost and see it return to its potential, and the Chixzon were no exception.

Most of their 1.3 million population was still in the indoctrination program after more than 30 years, but 132,932 had made it through, and each was personally cleared by Nefron…with the help of the Archons whose Ikrid was far more powerful than his own telepathy. Together they were sure these Chixzon wanted to climb towards greatness, and had seen the failings of the darkside in person, and then further illuminated by Star Force’s teachings which was all they had to entertain themselves with while in indoctrination. That, or physical training, but the boredom that drove many to explore for the sake of doing something didn’t work on the Chixzon, for they were extremely patient and cunning, and could lay in wait indefinitely in order to accomplish their mission…or catch their prey…and those predator instincts were one major problem Nefron was having to deal with.

He’d conquered his long ago, but these other Chixzon had never fought their instincts. They’d just gone along with them and accepted them as normal until something occurred to make them question who and what they were. Indoctrination left a lot of time for thinking, and those that had come through were on the right path, but the accumulated darkside knowledge and habits that they were born with, regardless of whether they had been Protovic converts or spawnings, were a heavy lift to overcome, and if one didn’t have reason to try they’d never have the courage to press back on what seemed to be the natural way.

Nefron was having to deconstruct the Chixzon and then rebuild them, but he couldn’t do it like he had with himself, for a small piece of him had not been converted, and that piece was still Protovic. It was tiny, a small set of memories that hadn’t been rewritten, but it was the point of contact the Archons had used to free him from the transformation…and afterwards he’d conscripted the transformation and turned it to his own lightside purposes.

But every Chixzon to be spawned would start with those darkside habits, so Nefron had a huge problem to deal with, and he wasn’t going to start genetically rewriting huge chunks of their coding. Even making small alterations was dangerous, due to unseen complications. Nefron knew this from his memories, as the Chixzon would experiment on others and simply discard the failures rather than try and fix them. Over and over, millions upon millions, they would alter into an abominable state until they finally had a success…and they’d usually kill the success anyway so long as they had the genetic sample they required.

Such ‘experimentation’ was darkside, no matter what the cause for it, and no matter how intelligent, or lack thereof, the one being experimented on was. Star Force was anti-darkside and everyone knew it, but there were some activities that they responded to with extra vigor, often lethally, and one of those was the meat industry. The other that Nefron had noted was such ‘scientific research’ that involved the torture and/or death of those unwillingly experimented upon. And the Conquest Fleets were encountering many such instances, which ended with the immediate termination of whatever civilization was responsible.

Not in terms of the people being killed, but their sovereignty was immediately revoked and Star Force would come in and take the whole place over…often with the death of the researchers who didn’t surrender. Star Force had never, as far as he knew, killed a prisoner. But Star Force was the one who decided who they did and did not take prisoner, and when they saw cages full of mutilated, disease infected, suffering ‘animals’ as the so-called ‘scientists’ casually went around inflicting damage all in the name of scientific discovery or medical advances…Nefron knew many of them were shot dead where they stood if they so much as drew a weapon in self-defense, despite the fact that Star Force had stun weaponry and could take them prisoner if they wanted to.

But there were some things that were so darkside that Star Force wouldn’t be that nice about it, yet in Nefron’s memories such things were just ‘normal,’ and that darkside apathy was something he had to fight to remove from the Chixzon if they were ever going to be able to reproduce. If Davis knew the Chixzon like Nefron knew them, he would have ordered them shot on sight rather than taken prisoner. And those that surrendered of their own accord, he would have permanently exiled to a prison planet with drones calibrated to shoot anything that left the surface.

That’s the level of wrongness within the Chixzon that Nefron had to contend with a second time. The first time he’d had the Archons’ help and his own Protovic past to help him, but he was finding it was infinitely harder to help someone else change than to change yourself, because he controlled his choices and the ultimate outcome of his own internal battles. But those of others he could only influence, and that meant he had to be very cunning in his approach.

Right now Nefron was inside the only Chixzon city in existence, in a system named for another Old Earth Fiction, and one almost criminally hilarious in its aptness. The Chixzon were sneaks, and the fact that the Archons weren’t denying that, or even inferring it was a bad thing, gave Nefron his primary direction for his new wards.

They were sneaks, and sneaks they needed to continue to be, just with different motives.

And to truly know one’s motive you had to see them in action, which was why Nefron had decided to implement virtual training using the system that the first Reclaimer Cal-com had devised to weed out those Vargemma who were worthy and those who weren’t. Now Nefron had to use it to teach through action, and to nudge the Chixzon in the direction they needed to be while constantly monitoring their progress and making alterations to the programming on an individual level for each of them.

And they didn’t know it. Each time they entered the Verasitium their memories would be blocked on the inside, and when they exited the memories of what had occurred inside would be wiped permanently. So from their point of view, they entered the door and immediately exited, not knowing any time had passed, but the adaptation that occurred inside was not a thing of memory, and Nefron was able to track the changes far better than Cal-com’s system ever could.

He was, of course, sharing his advancements and results with the other Reclaimers, but the Chixzon’s situation was so much darker that it almost didn’t count as peerdom. Nefron was having to wring the darkside out of them to the point it was really him versus the darkside himself, and that’s why he knew he had to be the one to do this. No one else could, for they didn’t see the depths of it. The Chixzon were choking in it from spawning, and that wasn’t their choice. He had originally thought it would be best to forbid spawning and just let the Chixzon race die out if they didn’t achieve self-sufficiency…and that was probably the more prudent choice, but the Director was stubborn when it came to such things. He didn’t like to surrender anything to the darkside, so he’d tasked Nefron with taking the Chixzon back from it…and he’d used those exact words in his original message.

So that’s what Nefron was doing, and each day for several hours each Chixzon in their new city would report to the Verasitium at different times of day to do something they would never remember. That required trust, which he had from them, and with that trust he and he alone was responsible for reshaping them…and it was working. New habits were forming, old ones withering away…but the problem was, in order to get that new stuff encoded into their genome to pass on to another generation, it couldn’t be a light or quick change. It had to be ground in so far and so hard that it had to be passed on the for the sake of survival.

And that meant Nefron had to be relentless in the training. Which meant he wasn’t going to be able to let any of them spawn new offspring for several thousand years at the minimum, and neither could he without an adequate pairing.

The road ahead was long, hard, and uncertain, but small progress was being made and he was committed to this for as long as it would take. The Director didn’t want the Chixzon for the war against the Hadarak, which was a good thing, for they’d never be ready in time. He wanted them brought out of the darkside in order to spite it, or as some famous people from many different races had said..

Why climb the mountain? Because it is there.

The Chixzon were here, the challenge was here, and Reclaimer Nefron was going to tackle it, though he had no illusions of victory. This fight was about fighting and seeing where it led, for he honestly didn’t know. To use a metaphor, he was walking through the fog and couldn’t see more than one meter ahead of him, but he could see one meter of ground, and that was all he needed to figure out where to take his next step.

He didn’t know if the other million Chixzon would come out of indoctrination or not. He hoped some would, but that future was up to them, not him. He was in charge of those that were out, while Star Force personnel far more experienced with the indoctrination methods used to free people’s minds that had been devised and codified long ago could handle this process better than him. It was where the newly freed minds went afterward that was uncharted. And for that, a Reclaimer was needed.

And like the other Reclaimers had told him, he had to make it up as he went along. No road map would be available. Only his skill and determination to tackle the unknown challenges ahead.

That had made him feel better at the time, but had also made him realize he might be fighting a never-ending war to free a race that might not be capable of being freed from their basic darkside instincts.

But like the mountain, it was there, and he was intent to conquer it…especially since he had already done so in himself. So he knew it was possible, for those internally driven, but the trick was to figure out how to move along those who were not so driven.

And that was a trick he was still searching for, because a sad fact had manifested before him.

The other Chixzon were not driven. They were broken. And the broken don’t fight very hard, if at all.

So, what would any good Chixzon do in that situation? Manipulate and trick them into doing what he wanted them to do. And that’s exactly how Nefron was tackling this, because he didn’t see any other possibilities. Not a single one.

Chixzon were sneaks. And if they were going to escape the darkside, he was going to have to sneak them out of it.

2

June 13, 154966

Unexplored Territory

High Stellar Orbit

Kara-317 stood in the command nexus onboard a Warship-class starship leading a fleet of some 30 vessels of similar make, though varying in year of production. All of them had the same submarine-like elongated hulls with a massive hangar cavity cut out of the underside in the rear portion to house drones, most of which were now deployed and buzzing around the fleet like hornets as they escorted one much larger ship in the rear of the formation.

Kara’s ship was in the front as they approached the cloaked facility orbiting the central star far beyond any of the planets. It was so far out gravity was weak here, and the fleet had to approach slowly due to restricted engine power, but the Star Force ghostbane sensors were already picking up artificial gravity signatures on multiple constructs ahead.

The tiny pinpricks of light on the hologram outlines the decks where the Zak’de’ron would have lived and operated, for the Uriti needed none, and wanted none. There were supposed to be 8 housed here, along with the dead remains of some 182 others, most of whom hadn’t lived long enough to reach even a half mile wide.

The artificial gravity well was here, but not active. If it had been, it would have been lighting up the ghostbane sensors the equivalent of a star. And it was in that large spherical station that the Uriti had been spawned by the captive Hadarak that Pol’ake said was now dead. It had been terminated prior to the Zak’de’ron’s departure, for the Neofan did not want it. Only it’s advanced progeny.

“Can you sense them?” Pol’ake asked via comm, for he was too big to comfortably fit on the ship’s bridge.

“The Uriti I can. But we’re too far out to feel the Neofan unless they’re actively using Essence.”

“Do they feel like the others?”

Kara sighed. “Big Essence blobs all look the same. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then stay quiet until I need you or you have something valuable to offer.”

“Do I distract you?”

“I wish it was that simple.”

“Then it’s the darkside taint I carry?”

“For starters. But right now I have to pick a fight with the Neofan, and I don’t know how strong they really are. So could you just shut up and let me work this without having to answer questions?”

“Agreed,” the dragon said, with blissful silence following that pithy statement.

Kara brought her warships in closer, but probed ahead with her drones until they made contact with the constructs. They drew no return fire, merely bumping into the cloaking fields and destabilizing them around the contact points, making it look like they were causing ripples in space, but when their jamming technology kicked in they took down each field they made contact with in less than a second, exposing the various stations floating in high orbit alongside each other, all of which appeared to be bundles of yarn.

That was one familiar form of Zak’de’ron technology, and Kara knew those strands could unravel and reform in different alignments as needed, but in this case they were cages for the sleeping Uriti, save for one main control center that was smaller than the rest and riding further away from the others in their tract around the star.

Kara opened a comm channel with that station, getting the response ping from the Zak’de’ron technology that let her know it was receiving, though no one responded to the polite knock on the door.

“Attention Neofan. You are here, we believe, to take possession of several Uriti the Zak’de’ron were spawning in secret. The other Uriti are quite eager to meet their new brothers, and under no circumstances will allow them to be taken outside this galaxy or anywhere else. And seeing as how we’re best friends with them, we’re here to assist in retrieving their kin and delivering them to the herd. If you are receiving this message, please respond back before we board the station. I’d prefer to avoid an unfortunate combat situation if possible.”

More than a minute passed with no response, then Kara sent a copy of the message out to the other constructs, eventually getting a reply from #7, which held the largest Essence Presence she could see, meaning the largest Uriti of the lot, and they were of a range of sizes.

“Star Force, be advised that we are here with the permission of the Zak’de’ron and have already laid claim to these Uriti. Do not try and take them from us. We also do not wish to get into an unpleasant situation.”

“You are out of bounds,” Kara replied.

“A technicality, but we are in small error. It is necessary to retrieve the property of the Zak’de’ron and transport it to another galaxy on a vessel capable of moving the Uriti. The Zak’de’ron possessed none.”

“Then why weren’t we billed for the Essence cost of said moving?” Kara quipped.

“It was a side deal that did not involve you. Nor does it now. These Uriti will pose no threat to this galaxy once removed, and the Hadarak here has already been terminated before it could break free to cause havoc in the Rim. There is no need for your presence.”

Kara focused for a moment, using the gauntlet on her arm to speak with the Uriti named Bahamut…their informal pack leader…who was riding in the big ship behind the fleet. He didn’t speak in words, but ever since the trailblazers had made the transition to Furyan they’d had a breakthrough in communication that had allowed others like Kara to learn how to speak to them better rather than using the limited shorthand thoughts and emotions the Wranglers had developed over the millennia.

“I have a Uriti with me, and he says he claims possession of those here as his wards. And I can attest that when a Uriti claims a ward, they will fight to the death before allowing them to be taken from them. So how do you suggest we resolve this situation?”

“Do not mock us, Human. You are in control of the Uriti and can utilize your override codes whenever you wish.”

“That’s for emergencies only. The Uriti are our friends, not our property. That’s a lesson I wonder if the Neofan have ever learned. You seem quite…possessively apathetic to the idea of sovereignty.”

“A curious phrase, and partially accurate. Those who hold the responsibility for other races must do what is required even if it interferes with the sovereignty of those who cannot take care of themselves. The very nature of a ward defies the idea of sovereignty.”

“Only when viewed from an inferior perspective.”

“And what do you claim is the superior perspective?”

“Compartmentalization. Restrictions where needed, freedom elsewhere. The Uriti know if they take certain actions…like snacking on an inhabited planet…we will intervene and stop them. But so long as they behave themselves we respect their sovereignty. As we also respect the sovereignty of the Uriti here, and we intend to protect that sovereignty that had not been granted to them by the Zak’de’ron.”

“The Zak’de’ron no longer control them.”

“I doubt you will be much better, considering how you have treated the Boos’mo.”

“They stopped being Boos’mo when we upgraded them. They are now Pol’so’nep, and serve a far greater purpose than the Boos’mo could have imagined.”

“But you didn’t ask permission. You enslaved them.”

“What’s the difference between a slave and a ward?” the Neofan said, with his stick-like wings flexing behind him. “Both are under your care, but one is preserved and the other expended. We preserve the Pol’so’nep as you preserve your Uriti. And as such, we will preserve these Uriti while giving them a greater purpose than their creators could have imagined.”

“The Boos’mo didn’t like being your slaves. Did you ever care about that?” Kara challenged.

“Our wards do not always know what is best for them.”

“And on that note, in this galaxy you are our wards, and you don’t always know what is best for you,” Kara said icily. “We are claiming these Uriti and putting them in our care.”

“We built the Temples here long before your civilization existed. We are not your wards, and we will not take orders from you. This arrangement with the Zak’de’ron does not involve you. Leave now before we are forced to give you a lesson in true superiority.”

“Do you really want to risk losing your home in this galaxy?” Kara threatened.

“We have not attacked you nor violated our agreement aside from our temporary presence here. That will be remedied shortly as we have a ship on its way. The status quo will return soon.”

“And you think we’re just supposed to overlook your violation?”

“You are engaged in a war against the Hadarak that you may very well lose. You cannot afford to fight us at the same time, for you will have no chance of victory in that circumstance. We apologize for our presence here, but it is necessary to arrange transit, and as per our agreement concerning the Zak’de’ron, they have all left and could not stay behind to look after these Uriti. That task fell to us, out of prudence, though I admit it is a violation.”

“Let me be more clear then. We are not going to allow you to enslave these Uriti.”

“You do not have the override codes for them. You cannot control them. But we can. Thus we are defaultly their masters. If they remain here, they will be a threat to this galaxy. They must be removed.”

“And we will be the ones removing them,” Kara said firmly. “I suggest you stay out of our way. Otherwise we’re going to have a disagreement that you won’t like.”

“I warn you. Despite our amicable status, we will not be dictated to. We have possession of these Uriti, and we will defend them against any attempts at harm or capture.”

“So it’s war then?” Kara asked bluntly.

“We will not start one. But we will not be bullied into submission either. We hold these constructs. If you attempt to take them from us, you will be the one initiating combat, and you will be the one responsible for your losses thereafter.”

“We’re taking the Uriti. Stay out of our way here and now if you want to live. Our Director will be addressing your movement violation later.”

“If you come onboard this station you will be treated as an enemy combatant. I am trying to be clear about this so you understand the consequences.”

“We don’t need to come onboard,” Kara said with a smirk as she cut the transmission. “Pok’ake, now’s your time to shine.”

“Accessing systems now,” he reported from his makeshift accommodations in one of the ship’s hangar bays that had been renovated into Zak’de’ron-scale chambers. Inside it was his own technology, built from technological seeds he had brought with him, and separate from the ship’s systems. Through that technology he reached out and accessed the Zak’de’ron systems onboard each of the constructs and used his priority access codes to snoop around and see what the Neofan had been doing…or in this case not doing.

“They haven’t touched the systems. My codes are still valid,” he reported a few minutes later. “They appear to be focusing their attention on one of the Uriti. They’ve been injecting it with unknown material and monitoring the reaction while keeping it in stasis. I’m downloading all data from all databases for analysis later. I can override their control of the stasis mechanisms at your command.”

“If we do this one by one, will they be able to circumvent you?”

“Doubtful, but if they can it will be on the construct they are physically present in, and there is only one. I have already locked out inter-facility communications. All will be controlled from this ship exclusively.”

“Have they damaged the control mechanism on the Uriti?”

“Impossible without altering its brain chemistry, and their experiments appear to be in the epidermis only. We did not give them our methods of creating the Uriti, for that leverage we wished to maintain. And I have registered attempts at hacking the databases that have all failed. They have the control codes, but nothing more. I do not believe they could have rewritten them in such short time, and the monitoring systems show no material reaching their brain tissue.”

“Alright. Wake him up and get him outside. Bahamut will win the tug of war.”

“I hope you are right,” Pol’ake said, sending the commands to the Zak’de’ron station where some seven Neofan were residing…

The first thing Tulark noticed was the groan of stressed building material as the Uriti twitched. That was as unusual as a mountain moving, and it immediately sent him to the command center to see what was happening. When he arrived there two more Neofan were already present and working the alien manual control boards furiously, finding the lack of proper mental interlinks beyond frustrating when time was of the essence.

“It is waking,” Si’covi said as he studied numerous holograms, tapping several out of existence while bringing up more with a telekinetic press of a nearby physical console. “Our control of the system has been remotely overridden.”

Tulark frowned. “How do they possess Zak’de’ron codes?”

“Perhaps they captured more of their technology than we were told…regardless, I do not understand these primitive systems enough to override the sedative injectors. They are inactive and it will awaken in stages. Unless a way is found soon, the process will be irreversible.”

“How did they sedate it?” he demanded.

“They ordered it to sleep, then sedated it the remaining distance. It is not lucid enough to respond to orders, and its thrashing will destroy this facility before it can be controlled.”

“All without engaging us in combat. I underestimated their guile,” he said, with all three Neofan heads turning to the sound of another warning orb manifesting in holo on the far side of the room.

“They’re opening the doors,” Si’covi said, confused. “I have no control over them. Why are they assisting us?”

“They do not want us killed,” Tulark said in disgust at their weakness, but relieved to have the opportunity to assert control over the Uriti. “And once it is safely outside, it will do our bidding. Their Uriti will not have enough influence to bypass the genetic command constraints.”

“Unless the Zak’de’ron lied about their success,” the third Neofan warned.

“Raise all defenses that do not interfere with the release, and protect the transmitters. So long as we can communicate with it, we will control it. And if they insist on boarding to take that control from us, we will use the Uriti to destroy them…”

3

Slowly he awoke, and not gently. The Uriti was in pain, as he always was when he went to sleep…but the masters had commanded it, and they had grasped him from his slumber and tumbled him down into a very diminished and deluded mindset. He was a prisoner, but barely knew it until the shackles began to come off again as they were now and his sanity returned bit by painful bit.

He jerked his arms, rattling his cage as one hit and one did not. The one that missed he focused on, realizing the cage was already open. The Uriti pulled on the local gravity and nudged himself outward as he continued to spasm involuntarily as the control of his six-limbed body returned in spits and furts.

His body was numb, but the faint smell of starlight made it through to his senses none the less. That gave him his orientation in the floating void, and from that he began to map out what was around him. His cage…the other cages…the masters’ cage…and many new things, including a different sort of cage that was open and had another of his kind coming out of it, though one he had not met before.

That excited him, but he was distracted with the waking process and the call of the masters. They said to stay away from the new arrivals…but then other masters onboard the new arrivals said to come to them.

Never before had the masters contradicted themselves, and it wasn’t the confusion of the waking that beset him. He was receiving two conflicting orders, being repeated constantly, and he didn’t know how to respond.

Then a massive presence fell upon him as he felt the voice of the new Uriti, sensed his power, experience, age, and majesty. He was not compelled to follow the other Uriti, but he knew he should obey this one. And it was from the divine light of his presence that his confusion was given a direction to follow, along with an explanation.

The masters in the cage were imposters, speaking the commands taught to them by the true masters. They intended great harm on the Uriti, while the true masters were here to free him and the others and bring them into the great herd…for there were countless more of them spread across the galaxy helping the little ones in their war against the Uriti’s insane kin.

That was when this one learned of the Hadarak, and how they wanted to destroy all Uriti despite being welcoming into the herd. He told the great one of the Hadarak here, and how he had cursed at them despite being their spawn. The masters had told them he was sick and did not know what he was saying, but now that the truth was being revealed to him the ill will made more sense. But a sad, depressing sense. All Uriti were meant to be as one.

The Great One understood, and told him of his own near death at the hands of the Hadarak and others. The galaxy was a dangerous place, but the herd was making it safe for all, large and small, and there were many more large ones in the center of the galaxy that had to be saved…or fought…once they got there. A Great Journey was promised to the Uriti, for one day they would live amongst the largest gravity wells as their kin did, but first they must remove the threats and safeguard the galaxy for all…and he was asking for this Uriti’s help.

But he did not understand ‘asking.’ He was bred to be commanded, and the Great One said he would learn to become more than commanded with time and training the small ones would provide. For the Uriti had been made as tools, but had become a great deal more over time, and the commands were now only used to warn them of danger to themselves or to others, for the small ones were many and often in the way. If care was not taken, they would be killed accidentally, so the commands served a purpose, but were rarely used after the Uriti found themselves. The Great One said this Uriti was small and new, and had not found himself yet, so he must obey the Great One’s commands and come with the little ones. And he must come now.

The Uriti didn’t understand, and the commands echoing in his mind were still conflicted, but the Great One allowed him to choose between them, though even as he began to move away from his cage toward the magnificent presence he felt his will tearing apart. He could not disobey, yet if he stayed put he would also be disobeying after a delay, and in that delay he could at least think.

But the Great One explained this to him, and though it caused him distress he followed the Great One’s commands and moved toward him slowly, for the star was so far away and he could barely pull upon it, but after moving past the cages for the little ones he came into the shadow of the Great One and moved inside his huge cage…at which point the commands from the masters in his cage stopped speaking.

That left him with only the commands of the newly arrived masters and the Great One, and they were not in conflict, giving the new Uriti a sense of peace, though his confusion still troubled him.

The Great One assured him he was making the right decision, and caressed him with a lightning cascade that felt so good he could not comprehend it. Some of the pain he had been feeling since birth was destroyed, and his mind woke up a second time, seeing the universe with more clarity than ever before.

The Great One said he would learn much, but first they must travel inside his cage, for it could move much faster than even he could across the stars. And they must get his 7 kin out of their cages as well, in addition to the remains of the dead ones.

He asked what dead ones, then he learned a grim truth. Many had died here, before them, but they would not be left to drift in the cold. They could be taken with them, and eventually find their place in the heat of a star where all Uriti truly belonged.

As he was explaining where they were going, another Uriti came out of its cage and he felt the Great One beckon to it. After a short period of time it too began to move towards them as the excitement of the future grew in the safety and security of the Great One’s presence.

The Uriti knew he belonged here, even without the Masters’ commands telling him to remain with the Great One. This was the best moment of the Uriti’s life, and he was soaking in every moment of it as another lightning cascade washed over him and removed more unseen grime from his mind and pain from his body…

Pol’ake continued to issue commands to the Uriti, playing a tug of war with the Neofan, for their transmitter he couldn’t override. It was a dedicated system and not connected to the overall network, but fortunately Kara had been right about the other Uriti tipping the balance.

One by one each Uriti was released from its cage, and one by one they all came to the enormous carrier Star Force had brought with them and took their place alongside Bahamut, looking like little eggs alongside his massive winged body. Each of the Zak’de’ron Uriti was a different design with different capabilities, but the command control genetics were identical in them all, including the dead ones that were stored at nearby constructs that served as warehouses for all this operation had needed so to not have to rely on regular starship traffic to supply them and potentially reveal their location.

Once all the Uriti were inside the carrier, Bahamut left them there behind the jamming field that was blocking the transmissions from the Neofan, and he flew out to the first of the warehouses that contained the dead and ripped them open with his invisible grasp so easily it made Pol’ake cringe. Out of their Zak’de’ron facilities he pulled each of the corpses and carried them back to the living ones in a few trips, making a nest out of the floating corpses and 8 living Uriti, into which he crawled back in and surrounded himself with, tucking them all carefully inside the shield perimeter, then the carrier began to cover over again with solid hull sections, sealing them all in for the journey further into the galaxy.

And the Neofan were left impudent. Whatever powers they possessed, there was nothing they could do to stop the Uriti, and the conflicting commands he had been sending out guaranteed the dominance of Bahamut over the others. It was a masterstroke of strategy on Kara’s part, and it also avoided a combat situation with the Neofan.

Not to mention it didn’t require Pol’ake revealing his presence either, which he appreciated greatly.

The dragon expected another conversation with the Neofan, but they did not contact Kara and she did not contact them. And as quickly as they had arrived, the Star Force fleet and Uriti carrier simply turned around and headed back in towards the star, leaving the Neofan stranded there until one of their own ships arrived to pick them up. And if it had to come from another galaxy to do so, he imagined their anger would be supreme upon arrival, but would that trigger a response? Or would they simply suffer it in order to not jeopardize their situation here?

Pol’ake could not guess. He had never met a Neofan in person, and had no wish to. Star Force would deal with the situation regardless, and if he had a way to assist them he would, but he was glad to no longer be involved in this and hoped to keep far away from their Temples for the remainder of his life…which he hoped to be unlimited.

To his surprise, though, as they were making their way back towards the star, Kara showed up in his hangar bay accommodations, tiny in size, but largess in power that he no longer questioned. She could kill him quite quickly if she wished, and he could do likewise to her only if she was distracted for a moment…but they were both past any such considerations, and allies regardless of her dislike for him, though the frown on her face now suggested her dislike had another reason for its merit.

Kara produced a large hologram that Pol’ake could clearly see of one of the Uriti, with her highlighting a specific part of it.

“What is this?” she demanded.

“It’s a port for technological attachment,” he said, referencing the nub sticking up slightly on the back of Uriti #6, which looked like a space crab.

“Meaning what?”

“It’s the top of a conduit that goes deep inside the Uriti to a void, inside of which we can build what we want. It can be weaponry, cargo, or passengers.”

Kara blinked. “You wanted to ride inside them?”

“That’s the only way to assure communications are not blocked,” Pol’ake said, huffing his wings out from his body a few meters then bringing them back in again…the dragon version of a shrug.

“And what else?”

“There was potential for multiple applications. We felt it best to engineer the cavity while leaving the specific use to future necessity. But having an Essence-capable individual within operating a weapon that was enhanced by Essence, would give the Uriti far more combat potential against opponents, especially the Hadarak Lurkers.”

“Are there any side effects?”

“There are always side effects,” Pol’ake admitted. “And these were not to be the final versions. They were complete enough to survive and help continue the experimentation in actuality rather than in simulation based off genetic profiles alone. I am not knowledgeable on all the details, but I believe this particular type of Uriti has pressure limits on its aperture.”

Kara frowned again. “It can close over the hole? I thought the whole thing was lined with Yeg’gor?”

“It is, but for complications we could not make it thick enough internally. The compression factor is also outward rather than in, so we devised an aperture made of Yeg’gor that puckers together and provides solid protection against battle stresses…but the pressures within a black hole are theorized to be too great and would breach the aperture and the thin armor within.”

“And stars?”

“Should be compatible with most sizes.”

“Should be? You never tested it on this one?”

“These Uriti have never left the testing ground.”

Kara rolled her eyes, knowing how much the Uriti needed star baths for a myriad of reasons. “You never stole any of our records on them, did you?”

“Did you have such a theft?”

“Not that we knew of, but you guys being you…”

“We had no such knowledge. Have we made a vital error?”

“Want me to give you the list?”

“Just the confirmation will do.”

“Yeah, you screwed up big time.”

“Not surprising considering these were experiments. Is the damage irreparable?”

Kara blinked, surprised at his sudden concern for his ‘experiments.’

“They’re a mess. More so than the original Uriti, and a lot of their biology we don’t understand. Why did you change so much?”

“We did not. The Uriti genetics we had could not be replicated. We had to create our own from alterations to the captive Hadarak. I do not know how similar or different they are from the rest of yours.”

“You’re telling me you never gained Chixzon knowledge?”

“If we had, the original Uriti we found we could have controlled the same way you did. That lack of control should be answer enough.”

“So everything you’ve done here has been from scratch?”

“Aside from the inspiration of seeing the finished product, yes.”

Kara crossed her arms over her small chest. “You’re saying you never captured a Chixzon or created one of your own?”

“To my knowledge we did not.”

“Have you experimented on other Megaloids?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone apologetic.

“Are they still around to rescue?”

“Distant past, long gone,” he assured her. “Before this project. We couldn’t capture a Hadarak to study until you devised your Spaceball technology, so we sought knowledge from the capture and testing of others. Most were too dangerous to capture, but the lesser ones we managed to contain and learn from.”

“And you based these Uriti off that knowledge?”

“In small part, yes, but mostly we pursued variations in the Hadarak base code, which is far more complex than we imagined. What we lacked were the activation keys, so we had to create our own base code to fill in the gaps.”

“Activation keys?”

“Hadarak genetics contain nearly complete genetic codes for all their living technology. Only certain segments are missing, presumably to be supplied by courier.”

Kara’s head twisted slightly to the right. “Go on.”

Pol’ake looked down at her oddly. “You did not know?”

“We never found anything like that.”

The dragon hung his head slightly. “Most likely that is because they are only contained in specific tissues inside the Hadarak. Vivisection is required to discover them.”

“Then why didn’t the V’kit’no’sat know about them?”

“The genetic coding is of a type beyond their comprehension and hidden behind the more mundane structures. It is easily missed, and it is how we ensure security in our interfaces, for we possess the same dual coding structure.”

“One complete code and one partial one?”

“Ours is not partial, and the Hadarak are missing only minor sections. Once included they can manifest all their potential growths. Without it, the secondary genetics are dormant.”

“And what’s missing isn’t just out of place, but totally not there?”

“Correct.”

Kara sighed. “Then that’s what’s been going on. Every time the Hadarak up their game against us, they must be receiving unlocking codes rather than orders, and they simply fight at the peak of whatever ability is available to them. For some reason I was expecting something more refined.”

“Nothing is refined about the Hadarak. They are a crude, but effective race of mixed constructs. We attempted to add refinement to these Uriti, and only partially succeeded. However, there is one note in the database I downloaded that I was not previously aware of. Uriti #8 was designed to have a secondary purpose, and that purpose was tested in my absence with preliminary success.”

“What kind of weapon?”

The Zak’de’ron shook his head. “Not a weapon, though it has several masking its other purpose. In order to proceed in the future, we needed the ability to reproduce Uriti without relying on captured Hadarak. Uriti #8 was our first attempt to create a Uriti that could spawn others similar to how yours do, though we did not know your method other than the cloning factor. #8 successfully spawned test offspring that were little more than my size. They did not live long, but the fact that they existed at all is a success I had not been informed of.”

“Test offspring?” Kara asked, picking up on that phrase.

“We can input whatever genetics we wish the offspring to be. They do not have to be copies of #8, for the Uriti is meant to be an incubator, and the larger it grows the larger offspring it can theoretically produce. It was meant to replace the captured Hadarak before it eventually died due to experimentation complications.”

“Meaning you cut it up too much?”

“Methods you do not want to know about. Methods that, in retrospect, I wish I did not know about.”

“What were you planning to do with the Uriti after you had them perfected?”

“Conquer the Hadarak, and counterbalance you.”

“Not conquer us as well?”

“There was mixed debate about that. Your benign nature made it unnecessary as long as we held a position of dominance. These Uriti were going to be that dominance, for we intended to make them far more powerful than the Chixzon made theirs.”

“Did you succeed?”

“Crudely, yes,” he admitted with a spark of pride. “If you can keep them alive long enough to correct the crudeness.”

“Uriti genetics are locked. Did you find a way to alter them after spawning?”

“We designed them to have a single access point where we could upload alterations. It was necessary for the experimentation but we not intend it for the finished products.”

“Is that what the Neofan were doing?”

“No. We did not share that part with them. In fact, we did not share a lot with them. What they were doing, most likely, was a tissue probe that the Uriti destroyed each time. I have been examining that data since we left, though I haven’t gotten much out of it, for it was Neofan technology and not ours they were using, but the genetic code of all 8 Uriti has not altered in the slightest.”

“Keep looking,” Kara said, turning around and abruptly leaving.

“I’m sorry,” Pol’ake said as she was halfway to the door.

Kara stopped, but only turned her head to the left so she could see him with one eye. “For what?”

“For our disregard for the sovereignty of life.”

“Do you even know what those words mean?”

“Not fully, but I am beginning to sense the wrongness of what we have done. And our failure here has left you and the other Uriti with wounded individuals to try and heal. That is our fault.”

“Yes it is. And it’s why we never tried to create our own Uriti, knowing we’d have to go through the same trial and error phase and the horrors that would bring upon those that were spawned with unforeseen complications.”

“Does Star Force do no experimentation on any biology?” he asked hopefully, wanting to know if there was a way to ‘honorably’ do such things.

“Only when the alternative of doing nothing is worse for the test subjects,” she said, almost spitting the last two words. “We have found an indirect approach yields results when a sufficient intellect is injected into the process.”

“Then there is a way?”

“There usually is. It’s just not usually all that easy to find,” she said, leaving it at that and walking out with that bread crumb left for him to chew on.

And chew he did, for the challenge of superior intellect was one that always hit the Zak’de’ron hard. And he’d never considered that being superior meant taking anything less than a direct route…but if an indirect one meant the target could be spared in the process…

The epiphany was not a small one, and like the Uriti’s lightning bath the sudden realization peeled away a layer of suppression on Pol’ake’s mind as well as taking away the dread of having to use what Kara called ‘darkside methods’ in order to be effective. The Zak’de’ron had always believed so, because to them being effective was the goal. Until Star Force emerged, they had never seen evidence of light-handed methods being as effective, if not more so than a direct, brute force approach. The Zak’de’ron were not unaware of subtlety, but they were also not used to putting aside a quick and effective method to pursue a long and tedious one to the same results.

But if there were long and tedious pathways to do what had been believed could not be done by any other way, then finding them and using them would require a superior intellect that most of the galaxy could not measure up to.

And that, Pok’ake realized, was why the lightside was defaultly superior, and the darkside was the easily accessible tools of the brutes and barbarians who did not see past today and plan for tomorrow.

Why, for all of their lengthy planning, had the Zak’de’ron never realized the central flaw in their methods? It seemed so painfully obvious now, and everything Star Force had been doing over their short life now came into focus.

They were building to a future empire, and not taking shortcuts to do it. And that empire would be more powerful than all the other ones that had taken the easy, obvious path to lesser power. In the long run, the greatest power was lightside power. You just had to survive long enough to get to that point.

It was then that Pol’ake had a second revelation, for the way Star Force was built to shield others, even those that were not part of their empire, from harm, was giving them the time they needed to pursue lightside power…and if they were successful, this galaxy would grow beyond all the darkside powers in the neighboring galaxies. They were buying time for those who could not, who would have had no other option that to go to the darkside to survive.

They were giving them a choice and an opportunity to strive for real power. And if Star Force could continue to shield them within and without, the magnitude of their future empire would be beyond anything Pol’ake could imagine.

And that was the true definition of dominance.

Which meant he was right where a Zak’de’ron needed to be, and not with the rejects pursuing more darkside power beyond this galaxy.

4

June 18, 154966

UTOVI GALAXY

System 92881-44824

Shosta’tri’lak

Yui slammed his fist down on the tabletop so hard it flipped up part way before gravity dragged it back down, spilling the drinks of the three other Meerioss onto their laps or the floor.

“Curse the Neofan,” he said, drawing gasps from many, but not all. “If they had stayed we might be able to win some of these battles. What do they expect us to do? Die fighting for nothing?”

“That’s exactly what they expect us to do,” another fury Meerioss said, though most of his body was encased in civilian armor with a loose cloak over top of it, unlike the gleaming gold military suits visible on about half the denizens in the bar that was located a few hipcaps from the planet’s second largest military base. “The question is,” he said, not turning to look away from the news reel displaying battle imagery over the bar top, “what are you going to do?”

Yui stood up, knocking his chair over in the process despite the fact that he hadn’t had a sip of Truli since arriving an hour ago. He was too mad to drink. He walked over to the man and grabbed his head enough to make him face him as he pointed upwards with his free hand.

“You see these?” he asked, indicating the scars on his face. “They won’t heal. Some kind of poison damage from the Hadarak that makes the cells incapable of repair. I got these four missions ago. And this,” he said, letting go of the man’s head and pointing to a fresh wound on his elbow, “is from our last mission. Half our ship was torn away by a strand from the Pafdreng. As soon it touched our ship it disintegrated everything it passed through because our Essence shields had no fuel. The Neofan took it all with them, and what the crew can produce has to go to the weapons or we can’t damage them. This wound should be healed, but the medical equipment on our ship was damaged. Look at it. And ask me again what I’m doing. I’m fighting and I’m losing because our masters left us behind, and I don’t know what else to do about it.”

“As are many,” the man said, seeming to take no offense to the head twist that he was now free of. “The question is, do you continue as you are doing, or do you switch tactics.”

“The Pafdreng are too strong to take down without the Neofan. And we barely killed one with their help. Now they’re gone, or in the process of leaving. I’ve heard stories of both. But I can tell you that they’re not on the front lines, the back lines, or any combat lines. Their warships have disappeared, their planets emptied. They have abandoned us.”

“They are not all gone. Many Neofan were left behind to die as well.”

Yui frowned, wondering if the man was drunk. “How do you know that?”

“Because until a short time ago, I served House Mutavi,” he said, pulling down his neckline and showing the tattoo he had over his left pectoral. And it wasn’t the normal ranking tattoos they all possessed. His bore the mark of a Deoglade.

Yui staggered back two steps. “How is this possible?”

“It is possible because the Neofan who trained me had enough pity for my fate to allow me to escape rather than execute me. The other Deoglades, in all Houses, have been killed, not in combat, but by House Mutavi’s order. My master figured since the Neofan were leaving anyway, he could allow me to remain and die through other means, thus satisfying the order without having to personally betray me. Since then I have been exiled from service, and should I show myself in any House’s military the execution order will be carried out by those Neofan who still survive, but there will be no mention of it to the Meerioss, or the Nu’avi, or the Hee’va, or even the Tri’ma. The Neofan are taking care of our elimination themselves.”

“Why?” another Meerios asked while many were glaring at the man who was seeming to speak heresy…but the losses being taken across the galaxy had sobered them up enough to at least listen before they tore him apart.

“This galaxy is being abandoned. House Mutavi has taken another galaxy for their own. That’s where their warships are. Kicking out the Hadarak so they can rebuild away from the Pafdreng. This galaxy is forfeit, and they want to make sure it falls uniformly in case the Pafdreng leave early or the Hadarak pull back to avoid engaging them. They want their powerbase destroyed in full, not to leave pieces of it for others to find and use. For some reason they think the Deoglades might be able to eek out a small victory, enough to survive and become a problem later.”

“And you claim the Neofan are sacrificing their own in this pullout?” Yui demanded.

“They have too many to take with them, and not enough Temples to hide in…but you wouldn’t know what a Temple was, nor how many of them are hidden around this galaxy as safe havens for some of the Neofan to survive in while the rest of us burn. Come to think of it, that’s probably another reason they want us dead. So you guys don’t go storming their safe havens. Or maybe it’s so the other Neofan won’t. I wonder if they know.”

“Are you really a Deoglade?” another Meerioss in the crowd asked. “Or is that a heretical copy?”

“It and I are real,” he said, showing it once again before covering back up. “And I am finding less and less worlds to travel to ahead of the Pafdreng, and I am cut off from both the Stri and Porto Regions by the Hadarak. This is the largest intact system the Meerioss have left, though they won’t say that,” he said, pointing to the viewscreen. “They want you all to bravely keep dying, thinking there is hope, so that all their creations are disposed of just in case we thought about running away to live another day.”

“Run away to where?” Yui challenged. “The Hadarak will consume everything in this galaxy.”

“There are other galaxies, and the nearest ones can be reached without Essence.”

“Only from the Core,” another Meerioss said, the highest ranking in the room, as he walked forward with the crowd parting to clear his way. “And it is besieged. Jumping from the rim would require stasis travel, and our physiology will not permit it.”

“But others could,” the Deoglade noted. “Plus there are intermediary galaxy fragments much closer. One of our ships could reach them in approximately 13 years.”

A murmur coursed around the room, with the hard, fanatical edge lifting.

“You’d have to fill half a ship with supplies to last that long,” the Ju’ie said, which was the rank of commander for an infantry unit across all Neofan servant races.

“But it’s possible, and they don’t want you to know that. They want their technology, training, and knowledge kept within their control. And if they are losing this galaxy, they have to make sure it will all be destroyed. And the Neofan that are being given refuge in this galaxy’s Temples are going to make sure nothing survives…even if they have to sabotage our efforts to defend ourselves.”

“We can’t defend ourselves,” Yui pleaded. “We are all going to die and there is nothing we can do about it. The Neofan don’t have to kill any of us. The Pafdreng and Hadarak are going to do it on their own.”

“True. I think the Neofan are very possessive, and they can’t handle the thought of us rallying under our own command. So they took away our leadership to ensure we die scattered, broken, and…helpless,” he said, finally looking at the rest of the crowd behind him. “This galaxy is beyond saving.”

“So you come here to drink your way into oblivion before your belated death?” another Meerioss said, one clearly near that point himself given the way he slurred his words.

“I have decided that I would try to survive. My service to the Neofan is ended, by their choice, and I am now free to do what I want with my remaining years. I have been looking for a way to rally our race, or others, towards a winnable scenario…but I have found none, so I have not emerged to take command. And if I did so, Neofan would most likely hunt me down and kill me…but it’s a big galaxy and their communication systems are going down everywhere, so after a while they wouldn’t notice. I planned to make my move then, in one defiant last stand if that was all I could manage. I’m a warrior. I want to die as a warrior if I cannot live as one. The Neofan did not give me that, and they gave the others the ultimate betrayal. We are loyal, but that loyalty…I do not have the words. I still cannot fathom it some days, but it is what it is. And the question to you,” he said, looking back at Yui, “is what are you going to do?”

“You’re saying the Neofan still here won’t help us at all?”

“They’re going to die defending their own worlds, for their warships have been taken away. They only have planetary defenses and patrol craft left. We helped obscure their withdrawal, then they silenced those who knew of it. I think they feared an uprising that would interfere with their exit.”

“You said they are still leaving now?” the Ju’ie pressed.

“Hard to say, but since Essence is the issue, the more collected means the more that can leave. So there will probably be a small flow leaving up until they are all dead.”

“Are they taking any servants with them?”

“Not many. Perhaps none at all. The Neofan go first, but there are some servants in other galaxies already, so I would guess they would be used to restart the population if desired.”

“What other galaxies?” Yui asked.

“There is much we were forbidden from telling you. The Neofan have assets elsewhere, but they are sparse and in conjunction with an alliance of empires that are fighting the Hadarak across many galaxies. There is a Rim-side transportation system built to facilitate travel between galaxies without having to jump the Core or go the slow route in stasis. It requires a large amount of Essence to use, but it is quite efficient. This is how the Neofan are escaping. They are not going through the Core. The Hadarak have it blockaded beyond our ability to fight past with any certainty.”

“Are we forbidden from using these escape routes using our own Essence?” the Ju’ie asked.

“No,” the Deoglade said firmly. “But you must have an escort, and most people in this galaxy don’t even know they exist.”

“Can we follow the Neofan to their new galaxy?” another asked.

“We have been ordered to fight to the death. If we show up there, we will most likely be executed. I will be, for certain, but there are many other galaxies we could go to. Not all of us. Very few of us, actually. But some Meerios could survive.”

“Then why are you here drinking instead of running?” Yui accused, still not fully believing he was one of the Neofan’s legendary commanders.

“Because I have been contacted by the Rudumak. They have delivered a message to me, and to others of influence that are not Neofan. There is an empire in another galaxy, far from here, that wishes to acquire our skills for their own use, and they are willing to provide the Essence necessary for our escape if we bring certain artifacts with us, and the Rudumak are offering to act as our escort through the intergalactic network.”

“What artifacts?” the Ju’ie asked.

“There is a long list, and all of them are Neofan artifacts they did not take with them. Many will be trying to acquire them, quietly, so they can escape this galaxy. We have a shot at claiming one, and only one of them. And it is on Dragiel.”

Yui punched bar top, which vibrated but did not move. “I was on Dragiel. The Hadarak have infested it.”

“But it has not completely fallen. If the artifact is still intact, and we can claim it, I can save several million Meerios. But I have to have a warfleet to do it. That’s why I am here.”

“In a bar?” someone else blurted out.

“Yes, in a bar, taking the measure of your will to fight. Most other worlds have given up, but not all of you have. You want a mission that is possible?” he said to Yui directly. “I am giving you one. Perhaps the only one, while this galaxy burns around us. If we stay, we will be consumed by it one way or another. Our only chance of victory is to escape it, but that route requires us to move into the fire and face the enemy directly. Do you have the will left to do that? Or have your wounds tallied up so much that you cannot summon the courage required under their weight?”

“You must be mad,” Yui accused, but the others were not so combative. In fact they were dead silent, all staring at him. “This is not possible.”

“Unlikely, but not impossible,” the Deoglade said, rising from his stool and assuming the rigid posture that he had previously lacked on entry. The posture of a commander who was not inclined to accept argument. “If I assume command of this system, will you follow me over the orders of the Neofan who remain, if they should show themselves?”

“If you are who you say you are,” the Ju’ie said, “then the answer is yes.”

Others nodded in triplicate, the Meerioss gesture of agreement as the slight air sacks on their chin bobbed with the movement.

“There used to be Neofan on Dragiel,” Yui warned.

“It was owned by House Mutavi. I am told all of the ruling House are being evacuated. It is the other Houses who have to choose who to evacuate and who to leave behind. Dragiel is most likely abandoned by the Neofan, as you said before. Are you now going to defend them and try to kill me?” he challenged.

“I don’t know who you are,” Yui said flatly.

“You will shortly. The planet will know shortly. You have some time to make your choice. Those who fight with me will be taken away if we are successful. Those who do not will have to wait in line. I do not know how many I can save, but they will all come from this system, and in this system’s ships. We will fill them up and leave the others behind, because we have no choice other than to stay and die fighting with them.”

“You’ll leave them totally defenseless?” Yui accused.

“Will this system stand otherwise?”

Yui and everyone else in the room knew the truth, and no one contradicted him.

“I have already been betrayed, as have you, you just haven’t understood the full depth of that betrayal. I wished to continue serving the Neofan. I still wish it. But it is impossible. We have been discarded, and since our fate is now in our own hands, I choose to try and live rather than die fighting a hopeless fight. If the Neofan do not approve of this I no longer care. I want to be loyal, but given what I know, what was told to me bluntly by my master, I cannot. And I will not die as they wish. I do not want to spite them, but the warrior in me says I must. If this other empire in another galaxy wishes our services, I will take my chance with them, but that chance must be earned, and Dragiel will not give up its prize easily. And the longer we wait, the harder the fight will be. Now is the only time, and the other artifacts are impossible for us to get to.”

“What is the artifact?” someone asked.

“The Zanderline,” he said, receiving outbursts as he said the name of the holiest Neofan relic in the Region, dating back to an era in their history before the Meerioss even existed. It was said to give the Neofan it blessed special powers, and no Meerioss were allowed to lay eyes upon it inside its protective spire. “The Neofan did not take it with them. And this other Empire wants it and they are willing to pay our travel price in Essence for it.”

“What is the name of this empire?” Yui asked.

“I am told they are currently engaged in a war against the Hadarak, and are winning it,” the Deoglade said with more emotion than intended. “Their name is Star Force.”

5

September 28, 154966

UTOVI GALAXY

System 85919-33913

Low stellar orbit

“Different than you remember?” the Deoglade asked Yui, whom he’d taken as his assistant onboard the warship Aph-Ri-Nemena at the head of a Meerioss warfleet…everything Shosta’tri’lak had available, leaving the planet and system defenseless until the enemy came within range of the surface batteries, which hardly mattered, for they were going to lose regardless.

“They’re everywhere now,” he said, watching the system readouts update as the fleet finished coming out of their jumppoint. “When I was here, we were extricating certain Neofan from the surface and lost half our men doing it. I don’t see how we’re going to get the Zanderline out now.”

“How many others were left then?”

“Pieces of 6 planets, four others that hadn’t been hit yet,” Yui said, standing tall in his smooth and glossy battle armor as he held his helmet under his right arm.

“Meaning they left them behind.”

“Our orders were to get the Neofan out. Nobody else.”

“Then let’s see if anyone is left in the fight,” the Deoglade said, gesturing to another Meerioss on the bridge who opened a system-wide comm on their encrypted frequencies and sent out a recognition pulse. Any units still present would respond, knowing that the Hadarak couldn’t monitor such transmissions…which was a major reason why all Neofan ships had been refitted with the odd communications transmitters once the invasion of this galaxy had begun, as well as issuing them to ground forces. Hadarak could see many types of energies, including gravity, but they didn’t have omni-vision, and this one they were completely oblivious to.

“Dispatch diversion task forces,” the Deoglade ordered, with the fleet breaking up and heading on different vectors as the Hadarak clustered around several planets with lesser formations around the others. All were infested, but they hadn’t owned this system long. There were no surface to orbit growths, and stellar orbit was clear of them save for a few scouts. That meant they were still in assault mode, and needed their void spawn on the planets to go after the enemies there rather than worry about catching others who might be dropping in.

It took more than half an hour before the first return ping came, and after it a slew followed as the comm lag ran its course, giving the Meerioss fleet an updated map of who was where and in what condition. As it turned out there was a lot of resistance activity going on, and a few chunks of the population were still alive, though besieged in underground sections of the city structure.

“Dragiel has succumbed,” he noted.

“It was hit first,” Yui attested.

“And because of that, most of the heavy combat units have been repositioned to other planets,” he said, keying his intra-fleet comm channel on his console that stood before his command throne and extended up to his elevated position. “Diversion task forces will engage at will, but if you have the opportunity to reliably evac some of the besieged troops do so. If you cannot, feint an attempt. I need their Trugo away from Dragiel without time to intercept,” he said, noting the position of three of the massive moon-sized carrier/bases the Hadarak used.

He had nothing to take one out, let alone three, but they were slow and could be avoided so long as you had the ability to destroy their void spawn. If you couldn’t, they’d disable and drag you down, but Meerioss warships were built to avoid such instances, so as long as they could get to their target and had ample time to retrieve it before a Trugo came and landed on them, they should be able to pull this off.

“Harvid…” the Deoglade said, addressing one ship commander specifically. “I need you to watch for any Zoku that move towards us. Engage them away from the planet, and at least delay them from getting to us. Extraction is going to be a vulnerable operation.”

“I understand. Am I to operate independently?”

“At your discretion, but I recommend letting the distraction task forces draw their attention first.”

The Meerioss bowed his large head, then his hologram faded from the bridge as his ship veered away from the few others that were left alongside the Deoglade’s flagship. He let the other units get a head start, then had his ships head towards a different target, intending to microjump off a smaller planet near to Dragiel to disguise their true destination for as long as possible.

“You look confused Yui.”

“Our ships can win these naval battles, but once we put troops on the ground we will be overrun.”

“How many did you face last time you were here?”

“Less than are on the planet now.”

“Were they spread?”

“No,” he admitted. “They were focused on certain sectors.”

“And now they have no idea where we are going. If we delay too long, they will mass against us and the ground teams will be met with escalating resistance. But we can handle their initial response if we do not allow them to focus on one location. That is why we will be landing in 5 different locations on the planet before heading to the Zanderline.”

“We’re splitting our ground teams as well?” Yui asked aghast.

“Trust me. This will work. The Hadarak are reactive, not proactive. When you’re overwhelmed you don’t have the luxury to observe what is going on. But they are not complicated in their maneuvers. They go where the threat is, or where their objective is. We can use this basic nature to misdirect them.”

“Will the ground teams be rescuing…”

“No,” the Deoglade said firmly, but with a tinge of regret. “If there were any on Dragiel I would send them, but I cannot have ground teams on other planets, for the effect is a local one. It must be the enemy units on Dragiel that are distracted. Do you understand this?”

“I understand you are sending men to fight and die for no objective.”

“Moving the enemy away from the Zanderline is the objective, though I understand your reaction. They will not be left behind. They only need to convincingly distract them for the duration of our extraction. Less actually, for they will pull out before the Zanderline, knowing that the Hadarak can only travel so fast across the surface.”

“Why are you explaining these thing to me?”

“Because you are a man who needs answers, and after the betrayal of the Neofan, I want it to be perfectly clear that I will not betray any of you.”

“But will this Star Force?”

“I don’t know,” the Deoglade said honestly. “But this is the only possible future we have. If they betray us, we are no worse off than we were before. If they deliver on their promise, then we have a way out of this collapsing galaxy. We have nothing to lose by trying, so I choose to pursue the uncertain future rather than consign myself to certain destruction.”

“Then may I join one of the diversion teams?”

“If you can convince me you are not suicidal.”

Yui’s head came up, and despite the glorified rank this man held, he could not bring himself to obey humbly. “I will do my duty.”

“As far as the Neofan are concerned your duty is to die and cleanse this galaxy of any of their former property. What is your duty now?”

“To save as many of us as possible,” he said firmly.

“That includes yourself,” the Deoglade said, looking back at the tactical holograms as a few more local units identified themselves. “Correction. It seems there is at least one survivor on Dragiel. A small unit hiding out. 8 individuals reported. Would you like to go after them instead?”

“Neofan?”

“No. It is a Nu’avi unit.”

Yui bristled. The Nu’avi were not always on good terms with the Meerioss, and their hairless flesh stank with brine, but they were fellow warriors serving the Neofan…which now meant what?

“I will go if you allow it.”

“Permission granted. The mission is yours to command. Organize your assault force.”

Yui stood still in shock, for he was so low ranking that he was further away from command than he was the mechanics.

The Deoglade saw his confusion. “I am giving you a field commission of Par’gi. Now go. When we hit the atmosphere your team will launch immediately.”

Yui nodded, but was still too stunned to speak, so he simply turned and walked off the bridge, not believing what had just happened.

But then again, with the galaxy burning, what did ranks matter? Still…

Yui stood shoulder to shoulder with other Meerioss warriors, all dressed in golden armor and carrying a crooked rifle over their left shoulders, a double barreled pistol on their right hips, and a shield gauntlet over their left forearms that was heavy and hard to move, but when activated it would provide more than thirty times the protection of their body armor, so it was worth the effort when going into a highly lethal environment.

The new Par’gi blended in with is troops seamlessly, with no outward visual markers to identify him, but on the visual overlay inside their helmets, additional data was added beyond rank. Strengths, loadouts, experience level, and current status were all visible at a glance, and most of the Meerioss around him had experience bars far larger than his.

But his octagonal cylinder gave him the prestige level that none of the others could match, in that it confirmed his full command of the mission in addition to his rank marker. He had 328 men with him onboard four landing ships and another 6 starfighers to provide aerial cover, not to mention the automated Sho’joo that would be guarding the landing site.

The landing ships had been shot out of the underside of the flagship as it skipped across the surface of Dragiel’s atmosphere, popping them out not over their target, but a fair ways from it to distract the Hadarak on the surface. Yui saw his starfighters immediately dive to take out a scattering of anti-air batteries as a few of the shots made it to his landing ship and thumped against the strong energy shields that would protect it all the way to their target.

The Hadarak were not stronger than the Neofan empire, but what they had was numbers, and reinforcements could be grown on site in a matter of weeks for the smaller units. And this planet had far more time to reinforce itself now that most resistance had been eliminated.

When the landing ships finally touched down everyone was given the order to leave, even Yui, as the pilots handled the landing. Doors on three sides peeled open, and the troops poured out through the semi-clear containment shields that would prevent any projectiles from entering the troop bay.

He ran out with the others, then his helmet began pinging questions from his various sub-commanders about how to proceed. Yui answered back silently, using an integrated command system that he could access with a combination of eyeline tracking and mental activation. The Meerioss had never used it in this fashion before, but he was well acquainted with the technology and was able to send out detailed orders within a few seconds splitting up his men and having them fan out on various missions.

They entered combat seconds later as the Hadarak came to them, or they went to the Hadarak, but it was light resistance. Yui didn’t even get to fire a shot, for the troops staying with him were moving around him in a phalanx and gunned down the approaching crawling spawn before he could even get a clear line of sight.

As the rest of the teams moved out to engage, his group of 15 and another of 8 headed towards the beacon location, with the latter proceeding them until they hit a patch of resistance. They dove into it, allowing Yui’s team to skirt around the perimeter while the enemy was distracted and get close to the half-destroyed building ahead where the signal was coming from.

They didn’t get there unmolested, for a wave of aerial Dupla came in and strafed them with acid…but it just rolled off their armor, not affecting their shields that were programmed to let it through unless their armor was breached. That was a trick they’d learned long ago, and it saved shield strength that the acid otherwise would have tore away quickly.

Yui pulled out his pistol and fired up into the stream of fleshy bodies racing over their heads, hitting something before they were gone…though several had careened into the ground nearby with two Meerioss running that way momentarily to end any survivors before they had a chance to explode with their full acid reservoir going everywhere. That only happened when they chose to do it, and that was when they were wounded and unable to fly. Quick shots to their heads or their long necks did the trick, leaving the acid in their underbellies to sit in their organs until it quickly decomposed within a few hours without the necessary enzymes being produced to maintain it.

One more wave of Dupla came at them from a different direction before they got to the building, then they had to crawl around the debris to find a way inside, but the Meerioss could jump several meters with ease, and most of the debris was smaller than that. An entry point on the second level was discovered, and one or two at a time Yui’s unit went indoors and moved through the elliptical hallways as they tracked down the beacon.

He expected to have been met by the Nu’avi as soon as they entered the building, but that didn’t happen. No living Hadarak were in here either, but the smell of death was everywhere. Gore lined the walls, but most of the pieces had been removed…most likely eaten by other Hadarak to conserve biomass. They wouldn’t usually eat enemies, but they would eat their own dead after the fighting was over in some cases depending on which type of spawn they were. And it looked like they had already cleared this building.

But when he got within a few dozen meters of the signal the sight of a pile of Nu’avi bodies nearly made him retch, even given the reduction filters on his helmets breathing vents. There were hundreds of them here, and piled up neatly into one large mound…and from inside that mount the transmitter was signaling.

“Is anyone alive in here?” Yui called out as his men circled the room searching, but finding no one.

“Someone had to activate the transmitter,” the trooper beside him noted just before the pile of dead moved slightly in one spot…then in two more. Slowly several living Nu’avi climbed out from under the pile of dead, sliding on lubrication from the blood as the pressure of all the dead weight tried to pin them in place.

And out of that mess came 8 rail-thin Nu’avi with no armor and gore-covered clothes that were more or less intact.

“Nutrient packs,” Yui ordered, with two of his unit pulling small circles out of the hump on their back that contained a small space for cargo. They pressed them on the exposed skin of the Nu’avi that were trying to speak but for some reason unable to, with condensed food being injected directly into their blood streams.

Yui pulled out his own water rations, two of them anyway, and gave them to the nearest two Nu’avi as other members of his team did likewise. Most barely responded, looking like they were about to keel over dead, but one was more animated than the rest and sucked down the water gladly before looking up at Yui from his kneeling position as he sat on his tail that should have been twice as thick as it was now.

“Where…did…you come…from?” he asked, his voice raw and dry.

“We’re here temporarily on a retrieval mission. We’re taking you out with us.”

“We…were…aban…doned. Neofan…left…us…behind.”

“I know. I was here to get them out. A Deoglade decided to come back. Can you walk?”

He responded by standing…and collapsing back to his knees after a few wobbly steps.

“Carry them, two each,” he ordered, with some of his men pulling their gauntlets off and snapping them onto their backs in a crude carry position so they could free up both of their huge arms which easily picked up the starving Nu’avi one in each.

Yui signaled his other teams out engaging the Hadarak that they needed cover so they could run the Nu’avi straight back without having to stop to fight, and he saw a scattering of unit icons on his local map moving to adjust into skirmisher positions along the route they were going to have to take.

“Ready?” he asked as the others picked up all the Nu’avi and got into a line with the cargo in the center.

A series of grunts answered in the affirmative, with Yui taking up position at the head of the line and activated his gauntlet, with it expanding into a physical shield as wide as his body, and out of that energy extensions provided more protection while allowing the necessary sight to navigate.

“Forward!” he yelled, taking off running with the others tucked in behind him in a stagger formation.

6

Yui’s column was almost back to their landing craft but all of them had their energy shields depleted, or nearly so, as the Hadarak seemed to be coming out of everywhere and filling the horizon as they converged on and attempted to kill the Meerioss and their cargo. Projectiles and biologically created energy blasts zipped and zinged everywhere, often into other Hadarak, but Yui’s starfighters were strafing the largest groups on the ground while trying to fend for themselves in the now clogged sky.

He could fire upwards and have a decent chance of hitting an aerial Hadarak, for the sky was full of the smallest ones with a scattering of the larger. Their flocks were growing even as the starfighters plowed them out of the sky with their ramming wedges, dropping their incinerated carcasses down like rain onto the rubble strewn ground.

As for Yui, he was now middle of the pack as his shield gauntlet had been depleted and destroyed. Another two had taken the lead, alternating against the heaviest firepower until they were likewise depleted…but they were nearly back, and Yui could already hear the landing ship’s perimeter guns firing as well as the Sho’joo’s thuds as its mechanical feet plodded around the four craft and the mechanized walker tackled the largest enemy grouped with overwhelming firepower. Those few that got through were audible in the zapping sound of the defense field frying any who touched it.

And that’s what most of the Hadarak on the ground were engineered to do. Physical assaults with either club-like limbs, cutting claws, piercing teeth, or acid glands. Yui could out run most of them, but having to carry the Nu’avi meant the group had to move as slowly as their heaviest carry, so many of the crawlers were catching them from behind and had to be fought hand to hand on the run.

But his unit was managing, and before long another strafing run cleared the path away enough for him to see the landing craft with piles of dead spawn heaped up on one side of it…with others crawling on them to try and get over the top. But the shield was spherical and there was no top, yet that didn’t stop them from killing themselves on it to make footsteps for the others to follow on until the Sho’joo walked around the perimeter and cleared them off once again.

Typical, brainless swarm tactics…but the pressure on the shield that kept incinerating everything it touched had a draining effect, and every piece of technology had its limit. Fortunately the landing ships hadn’t reached it’s yet, and a portion of the shield turned blue, indicating that you could pass through it slowly, but no energy weapons or high velocity projectiles would.

Yui and his team ran right up to it and inside the protective umbrella, with the last member in line turning and throwing an Essence wave back into those following him to give the pilots enough time to transfer the shield back to normal.

He immediately switched over to command data on his helmet, checking on where his other teams were and finding all but two were back in the vicinity of the landing ships.

“Everyone recall,” he ordered as the Nu’avi were carried up the ramp but the rest of his unit stayed underneath the shield yet outside the ship as they stood ready to fight again as needed. Yui assigned evac routes to three positions on the shield, ordering three new ‘gates’ opened in it, and soon his other units began filing back inside in spurts.

Then one of his starfighters took a critical hit and spiraled down into the landscape with an unimpressive thud as it hit and stuck in the ground, killing a few Hadarak on impact, but with the rest immediately swarming it. Yui knew the pilot would be dead before he could get a team to him, so he ignored his fate and focused on the rest. A few minutes later the last of the ground team came through carrying a Meerioss missing a leg, but all were accounted for.

The shield sealed up again as the ship continued to fire down from extended turret bulges poking out through it ever so slightly so it could cover the ground immediately around the shield perimeter. The crawlers that had no more targets to go after were now swarming the shield and ramming it…to their deaths…but more and more came and tried, with two more piles adding up on the opposite side of the main one.

If they got too large the ship would have trouble taking off. Yui had seen it before, but they weren’t there yet.

He made sure he was the last person up the ramp, then stayed at the door as it sealed before giving the order to lift off. The incineration shield had to drop to do so, with the normal hull-tight defense shields reassuming as power that had been going to power the incineration now had to be diverted to the engines.

The agile and streamlined craft lifted off, leaving the Sho’joo behind to fight to its destruction, and pushed through dead and living spawn alike as an flock of aerial Hadarak rammed it and splattered engine dampening goo across the shields in splots.

The ship fell to the ground, hitting on its still extended landing skids as the shields remodulated and shirked off the goo, then it took off again only to get hit a second time at higher altitude. They nearly dropped, but managed to repeat the process while still in the air and gaining horizontal speed.

Turrets on the sides of the landing craft racked up kills, but the flocks were thick and without the starfighters moving in to assist the landing craft would never have gotten up to speed. Once they did the enemy could only ram from one direction, with those approaching from behind not having the necessary collision inertia to splatter themselves on their targets. They bounced off when they hit, while those ahead ran into concentrated firepower from the landing ships with the starfighters peeling off as much heat as they could.

Another one of them went down in the effort, then the landing ships were pulling up out of the atmosphere where most of the flyers could not go on their biological wings…but naval spawn were descending towards them in their own flocks, though they were intercepted by long range fire from the nearest warship as Yui’s command raced towards it.

As soon as they were mostly in the clear, he turned his attention to the other distraction assaults as well as the main attack on the Zanderline…only to see shield walls set up around the site on the ground creating a second perimeter beyond the main shield dome covering the artifact as it was being dug out of the ground.

Yui had no idea how big it was beneath the surface, but already he could see it was at least twice as deep as it was high, looking like a giant crescent but missing the smooth curves.

“Pilot, redirect our course towards the Zanderline enroute to the warship.”

“That’s not a enroute. It’s far out of our way.”

“Do so, but keep our altitude,” he said, reaching back and pulling off his survival pack augment that was plugged into the omni slot between his armor’s shoulder blades. He walked over to an equipment wall in the landing craft and opened a cabinet, pulling out a jump pack and clicking it into the empty armor slot.

“They’re not going to be able to hold the site long enough to get the Zanderline out,” he told everyone in the hold. “I’m going down to help them. I’m ordering you back to the warship and you can be reassigned from there. If you feel like disobeying orders and following me to your death, I won’t stop you.”

Yui didn’t stand around and count. Instead he moved to another locker to get another shield gauntlet as well as some additional weapons. He’d seen what was going on down there in a single glance, and knew they were all going to die unless they abandoned the Zanderline and pulled out…which they couldn’t. They would be as good as dead without their price of passage out of this galaxy, and Yui didn’t intend to wait and watch while someone else determined his fate.

When the landing ship eventually came into the hazard zone, Yui had to tell the pilots to ignore the wave off orders coming from the local commanders, then he and as many who wished to follow jumped out of the ship as it flew, falling down through the sky towards the surface miles below.

Yui saw dozens of dots pop up behind him, then the landing ship quickly redirected course and shot away from the Zanderline as 42 Meerioss in armor fell through a free fire zone around the shield perimeter, with Yui angling to come down in the gap between the outer shield walls and the primary shield.

He let his speed continue to accelerate, but their arrival was not unnoticed and a section of the local flock of spawn turned their way, causing him to lead the others in an acceleration horizontally as they fell, making them race around the curve of the bubble-like shield covering the section of the city with the Zanderline in it.

Two of his men were hit, literally, as the spawn rammed them and knocked them out of formation…but the Hadarak died and the Meerioss flew back towards the group, though lagging behind as some of them tried to take shots at their pursuers, but firing backwards without being able to look more than over your shoulder wasn’t very effective.

“I need four high and everyone else to pivot and fire,” Yui said, seeing four volunteers move upwards slightly. “Now!”

The four continued to fly, but increased their altitude, drawing the flock with them somewhat as the rest of the Meerioss turned around and braked, essentially standing in air as they got their faces towards their pursuers and opened fire with pistols that were easily accessible on their hips despite the harsh wind pushing at their backs.

Their firing wasn’t accurate, but it was decent and they didn’t spare any ammo, cutting into the leading edge of the chasing flock before it had a chance to divert. Several spawn rammed the Meerioss, on accident this time, knocking them out of formation, until the rest of the Hadarak scattered in the confusion and lost their attack profile.

“Dive!” he ordered, taking advantage of the momentary lapse as all of his men accelerated straight down towards the ground and gave up their chase around the perimeter. They ran hard down, using gravity to their advantage, then braked at the last moment to allow them just enough time to null out their fall as they turned and flew a few meters over the cityscape, with Yui holding up long enough for all the rest to catch him, then they flew firing down on the Hadarak as they headed for the nearest gap in the outer shield wall on their left while the main spherical shield was on their right.

And all matter of carnage was happening in between.

The outer wall had gaps in it on purpose, to force the Hadarak through them where the Meerioss had heavy weapons ready to slaughter them, but too many were getting through, and the aerial spawn could still attack from above, as well as pick up and deliver the crawlers one at a time to drop in behind the heavy guns.

One of those gun batteries was where Yui decided to make their stand, flying his unit through the air up to the perimeter of the walking platform that had multiple weapons on it, but the main gun was a continuous beam that was filling a third of the shield gap ahead of them and waving back and forth trying to hit as many minions as it could that were pouring through in an ocean of hardened flesh.

Yui dropped to the ground, glad to have his feet back on a solid surface and eliminating a hemisphere of potential attack vectors for the enemy. He pulled out his shield gauntlet and ordered the others behind him, with one other Meerioss coming up alongside him and doing the same, creating a joint barrier as they ran towards the nearest glut of Hadarak that were assaulting the flank of the gun battery.

And there is where they would fight their last fight, as warriors, not helpless victims. They had a mission to accomplish, and each one of them bought as much time for that gun battery as was physically possible before it was eventually overrun and knocked to the ground by spawn climbing upon spawn in a living tidal wave of mass.

Yui and the others bought them a total of 19 minutes, and in those 19 minutes the gun battery killed more than 400,000 Hadarak. Far more than Yui’s unit could have hoped to achieve on their own.

Their deaths were well spent, as were the deaths of all the other elite troops fighting around the perimeter as excavation units continued to cut down into the bedrock and free the underside of the Zanderline as hovering cranes were already ready to pull it out the moment the base was free.

The Deoglade watched the carnage below, proud at how well the Meerioss fought and equally dismayed by the ferocity and numbers of units the Hadarak were able to move across the planet so fast to counter them. His team had been at the Zanderline for less than 3 hours, and already it was a hopeless situation being held on to by the sacrifice of his men, most of whom were now dead, with the last survivors retreating into the giant transparent blue bubble covering the site as the Hadarak began beating on it with their full force around the exterior as the warships kept the naval spawn away.

They almost had it. The Deoglade felt how close they were, and knew this was going to go their way or the enemy’s based on a number of minutes. He watched as the cutting teams tore out the bedrock around the unknown subterranean shape of the artifact, finally getting under it with only a few more minutes of cleaning around the rest of the base needed.

As they did, burrowing Hadarak units were coming under the shield perimeter, with special defense units that the Deoglade had ordered inside to wait for just this threat responding immediately to keep them off the excavators. The retreating troops from outside aided them in this as the Deoglade’s hearts were pounding so hard in his chest he could hear the thumps over his shallow breathing. The margin here was razor thin, and this was the moment of truth.

Breaches in the shield started to form, with the weak spots glowing before they actually broke so those inside would be warned. When they did, only a few Hadarak slipped through before they reformed, but that scattering of units was increasing with each minute that passed, and put an increased strain on the last of the defense troops, but they were holding. Feverishly holding with a vigor the Deoglade had not seen in his race for centuries. They had an attainable victory before them, not another hopeless, pointless holding action merely delaying their demise. This was a way out for some of them, and they were going to fight to the death to insure that at least some Meerioss made it out of this galaxy to tell the tale of those who had fallen and keep their race from total extinction.

They fought harder than hard, with such speed and accuracy that the Deoglade became distracted watching their final stand and missed the release of the Zanderline. The cranes pulled it up immediately, with it moving a third of its height before the Deoglade realized it.

He immediately sent in landing craft to pick up the remaining troops as the building-tall blood red artifact was pulled up through the shield dome and allowed to pass through the top…with swarms of starfighters moving around it in escort formation, along with several shield barges that flew in parallel with their prize and extended their protective auras around it.

The Deoglade gave the pullback order to the diversionary attacks across the system, but there weren’t many troops or ships left alive to contact. The few that were responded instantly…as they were able. Some were doomed, unable to move or stranded on the ground with no landing ships able to get to them.

The Deoglade saw all this, as he had seen it before. Most coming here knew it would probably end like this, but he had promised them that victory was possible, and as the Zanderline pulled up out of the shield bubble completely as the multi-color sheen below attested to it being near total collapse, that great red crescent was their victory in progress, and was visible to all those nearby who were not going to make it off this planet as it rose up into orbit and was slid inside a waiting warship as others were nearby fighting and taking massive damage to shield the one tagged for transport of the artifact.

The Deoglade gave it the highest priority, even over his own flagship, and had it moving off towards the star before the last of the evaced troops made it into space. He stayed behind until the last of the landing ships docked, saying a silent farewell to the dead and those left behind that were about to join them.

Then he ordered his remaining ships…less than a quarter of the number that had arrived…back to the star and out of the system before more enemy reinforcements could get to them and take back what they’d just stolen from their conquerors.

7

January 3, 154967

UTOVI GALAXY

System 92881-44824

Low Stellar Orbit

The Deoglade sat in his quarters with his upper tunic removed. The fur on his arms and neck was missing on his chest, making his ranking tattoo show easily on his nearly white skin. His fur was dark brown and his smooth face was speckled with spots of orange…the sign of his Clan, or rather his former Clan before becoming Deoglade.

When that occurred his name was erased and he became his position, which was one of only a rare few within the Meerioss that could command all. When the Neofan gave him an order, it was his responsibility to carry it out as he saw fit, for they did not care about procedure, only results, and it had been previous Deoglades who had shaped the Meerioss into what they were…or rather what they had been. His race was being exterminated, and unless other Neofan had pity on their Deoglades as his master had, he was most likely the last of his kind.

His rank came with more than a tattoo, for within him was knowledge encoded into his mind. Knowledge the other Meerioss did not have, and were not meant to have. Knowledge of more than their race. Knowledge of combat and how to wield one’s body as a weapon. Knowledge of Essence techniques beyond his skill. Knowledge of a great many things that had been given to him to make him a better servant of the Neofan. But none of those things would allow the Meerioss to survive in this galaxy. Without the Neofan, their twin enemies were too powerful to defeat in more than a few battles.

The Deoglade’s life was destroyed, yet he still lived. The pain in this did not twist into despair or panic. He did not lash out at the walls or throw himself into a rage. He analyzed and mitigated. Making good on what he had available to him even as everything else fell and was beyond his saving. But inside him, deep down beneath the numbing, he was in agony. The one constant in his life was the Neofan…their leadership, their superiority, their trust. The Meerioss owed them everything and would gladly die fighting by their side.

But they weren’t even given that. They’d been discarded, and the Deoglades betrayed as little more than outdated equipment that had to be decommissioned. And that hurt. It more than hurt. It threatened to break his nerve…yet his nerve was unbreakable. The Neofan had seen to that in his training and testing.

He was leading what was left of his warfleet back to their home port rather than heading straight to the Outer Rim. Most of the people in the system would be left behind, but he would take as many as possible. He steeled himself to the fact that he was going to have to turn away so many, but again, this was mitigation. Without his efforts they would all die, and leaving the warships behind would not save them.

Still, he did not like taking away their only defense fleet. But it would be destroyed if it stayed here, for there was no way to save the system from the Hadarak when they arrived. Everyone that remained here was as good as dead. Sadly this system hadn’t realized that yet and still had a will to fight, and it gnawed on him that he wasn’t going to be able to give them that fight.

But this wasn’t the first time he’d encountered this. It was an old story now, for the galaxy didn’t collapse all at once. It happened one system at a time, with the same story playing out in slightly different variations. The Neofan were leaving for a reason, and that reason was their utter lack of ability to win against both the Hadarak and the Pafdreng at the same time.

The Deoglade had known they were going to lose for a long time. What he hadn’t seen coming was the betrayal. And still, he did not understand why. If everything was going to be destroyed, what would it matter? Were they that afraid that some might escape beyond the galaxy? Or was it their hubris in play?

When they arrived back to where they began he’d given orders that didn’t need him on the bridge, and he intended to wait here or on the lower decks until the time came to leave. Every ship in the system would be taken into their fleet and stuffed with as many people as their supplies would maintain. Hopefully they could pass through more Meerioss systems as they traveled and add more ships, for the travel cost for the Zanderline was far greater than what it would take to move his small fleet. Star Force had supplied enough for a thousand times the ships he had, if the Rudumak had been truthful. He was basing everything on their word.

And if they were lying or exaggerating…well, that was a problem he’d have to face later. But if they thought they were going to get the Zanderline from him without payment, they were going to be seriously disappointed, for he’d already had it rigged with explosives to make sure it didn’t fall into any hands other than the Neofan’s or Star Force’s.

Odd, how he reflexively still considered the Neofan to his masters. He wondered how long that would last with the sting of their betrayal still corroding his insides as virulent as any assassin’s poison.

In his meditative reflections he found it best to keep some sound in the room, so he had a loop of soothing music playing that overcame any sound of footfalls in the hallway or the mechanical action of ship’s systems in the walls, ceiling, or floor. But the sound of a combat alert overrode it all, and the Deoglade immediately opened his eyes and shot to his feet before he realized what was happening.

“Report,” he demanded calmly into his terminal that had a direct line to the bridge as he pulled on the upper half of his uniform.

“Pafdreng in the system,” someone said, with the words coming through chilled as death itself.

“Avoid all contact until I get to the bridge,” he said, cursing himself for underestimating their speed. He hadn’t expected them to get this far for another 4-7 Saoyen.

The Deoglade dressed quickly, then ran through the ship until he got to the bridge and the guards there let him pass without delay, with the doors irising open onto a very calm bridge crew.

No, they weren’t calm, they were in shock and totally still, with their heads barely turning to acknowledge him as they all stared at the main display.

“Have any of you ever been in combat with Pafdreng?” he asked casually as he strode to his command throne.

“I have, once,” a single crew member said.

“How large was it?”

“Bigger than this one. A lot bigger,” he said, finally having a coherent thought ping through his mind as his curiosity asserted itself.

“As have I. This is one of their fragments. That means a larger one is nearby and has just birthed this new one,” he said, looking at the cloud-like entity that was currently swirled around one of the moons of the first planet with all manner of energy discharges occurring between them. “It is still just as deadly, but if the Neofan were here with a dozen of their Gjardans we would have a chance to kill it. They do die, just rarely, and you have to use a lot of Essence weaponry to do it. None of which we have,” he said as he sat down.

“This system was going to fall the Hadarak or the Pafdreng, and there was nothing we could do about it. There is nothing we can do now. Engaging it would be a waste of our ships. We don’t have the firepower to do more than wound it, and that wound will not save the system. We continue on with our mission, and evacuate the worlds it has not reached yet onto every ship left in the system. Contact them all now, and order them to stay put and begin loading. I also want couriers sent to the nearby systems to bring back those that have fled along with any other transports they can find. Do so now.”

The Deoglade said nothing further, waiting for his crew to act…and they did so, but slowly. The sight before them of the inhabitants being vaporized on the surface as the deadly fog overcame them was terrifying…as was the fact that firing projectiles into that fog would see them pass through it. There were no decks on a Pafdreng. No bridge. No engines. It was all energy, and those within it were incorporeal…or so the knowledge in his mind told him. It also told him they were harvesting the lives of those on the planet to steal their Essence…and their Cores. For these people were not dying. They were being enslaved within the Pafdreng to produce Essence for it forever.

The Deoglade would have killed it simply to release the captives into death, but he didn’t have the firepower. The only way he would win this fight was by not engaging in it, and fortunately the Pafdreng didn’t concern themselves with ships or outposts. Only the areas with a massive amount of life, though the harvesting procedure often destroyed the planets in the process, sometimes with the rubble disappearing entirely. And even the knowledge in his mind did not know where it went.

Some systems that were hit by a full sized Pafdreng were wiped off the map when they were finished, including the star. But most were raided for their living beings, and that was probably what was happening here, though he couldn’t say for certain.

He kept his fleet orderly, and grew it with many ships that were already running towards them before his orders went out. They eventually ended up back at Shosta’tri’lak, for it was the 6th planet in the system and probably had a few more weeks, maybe months, before the Pafdreng got here. But the Deoglade had never heard of one leaving a system only half consumed, which meant everyone here was going to die that didn’t get onboard the few landing ships heading down to the planet.

The Deoglade had to send troops with them to evac the list of people he gave them rather than have a free for all at public assembly points. That’s not to say that random people wouldn’t be picked up, but it would be by his troops’ choice and not a first come first to be evaced situation.

He had to do it that way, or the Meerioss on the planet would stampede over one another to try and escape the Pafdreng. He’d seen it before, even amongst the most disciplined races. When sheer terror befell them, their true colors showed through, and most were not something you wanted to see.

But more than people, the Deoglade needed supplies for a long journey of unknown length. He knew how far it was to the hidden gateways, but beyond that he had no knowledge of where Star Force was or how fast they could actually travel using Essence, for it wasn’t a matter of boosting one’s engines as his warships could. This was an entirely different form of travel, though one he wasn’t provided the specifics about for the simple fact that he did not need to know if his duties never took him there.

Some Deoglades had been sent beyond the galaxy on missions, occasionally. He knew that because his master had told him so, while also telling him that he wasn’t going to be one of those Deoglades. He wondered if any were still out there, and if they were being killed as well.

Three days into the evacuation the Pefdreng moved, having already consumed everything on the moons and first planet. It leapt out across space to the next closest…which was the third planet…like an marine animal extending a tentacle out, then the bulk of it followed, stretched out like a fat spear, and not using jumplines. It moved on untraceable paths and flew out ahead of the next planet, gathering itself there for a few hours before expanding outward like a great cloth that then wrapped itself around the planet as it tried to pass through it.

It was already bigger now than it was when the Deoglade’s fleet had arrived, and would get bigger with every feeding…yet it had no mass. No gravity signature. It didn’t exist, and yet it did. Sensors could see it, bounce energy off it to confirm it was there, but particles would go right through it, as the third planet slowly did, but the Pafdreng moved with it and wrapped it up like a blanket too small for its owner.

And under that blanket horrors wrought.

A day later a few ships returned, meaning some more people would be leaving this system onboard them as the Deoglade’s troops raided the system’s storehouses and took what they needed at gunpoint if the locals refused or demanded to be taken with them. Those supplies were filling his cargo holds while the passenger decks were being stacked with living bodies as tightly as could be managed.

No one complained, for they were immensely grateful to have even a small corner onboard the ships that would take them away from here, but the Deoglade knew he couldn’t overload his carrying capacity, or they’d starve on their way, and he had no guarantee of resupply between here and the Outer Rim, though he was going to try at what was left of it, for the Pafdreng had come in on multiple vectors and were nibbling away at the galaxy’s systems in all major areas…except where the Hadarak were the most.

At the Core.

Or at least that was the case earlier. Now reconnaissance was non-existent. That’s why this Pafdreng had managed to get here without him being notified, and he wondered how many more pieces of the original were in neighboring systems. When they eventually returned to the galactic void they would rejoin into a few massive objects the size of nebulas, but for the feeding process it was more efficient to do it this way…or perhaps there was some other reason in play. Regardless, he might find himself jumping into systems with them in it quite often, and unless they were consuming the star he preferred that situation to a Hadarak siege fleet.

Weeks continued to go by until his fleet was full to the brim of supplies and people, and by that time the Pafdreng had scrapped the living beings off four planets and 18 moons, including destroying one of the moons and only leaving crumbs behind. The Deoglade tried to monitor what it was doing with the rubble, but sensors didn’t work well inside it. Only a faint echo of the rock maintained inside the cloud…up until it came towards its center, then it disappeared entirely.

The cloud didn’t get bigger. No energy discharges were seen beyond the norm. It appeared that eating the moon itself did nothing, and yet there had to be a reason.

The Deoglade considered these things while his crew did not. Their fear drove them, and he had to channel that fear into doing their duty, else they would have gone as mad as those on the planets remaining had. Fires raged on many, set by the inhabitants as they fought each other over this or that. Anything to possibly survive what was coming, or to indulge in one last moment, or to avenge one last grudge.

It was not an honorable end, and the Deoglade was glad he didn’t have to stay around any longer to watch his people tear themselves apart before the Pafdreng finished the job…though, in their defense, it was probably better to die and have your Core set free in the Essence realm rather than to become a slave, though he doubted that was why the fires were raging.

His fleet, with the warships at the fore and aft, led the makeshift convoy back to the star and out of the system, escaping the horror of the Pafdreng and the Hadarak for a short time at least. They had many months of travel ahead to get to the galaxy’s edge, and he hoped they would not be contested.

But he wasn’t counting on it.

8

March 13, 154967

UTOVI GALAXY

System 83392-98311

Low Stellar Orbit

“Take some of them with us,” the Nu’avi said to the Deoglade as their convoy moved around the star towards their outgoing jumpline amidst the clutter of ships around the system, most of which were refugees from others, plus the native Nu’avi whose system couldn’t support them all.

“We can’t have them all following us,” the Deoglade cautioned from the observation deck onboard the warship two levels above the bridge. It was all holograms, but made it appear you were riding on the top of the ship with nothing but the hull underneath your feet. “And all it will take are a few coming with us for the others to get the idea.”

“There is a Tru’ak in this system. Do you understand the significance of this?”

The Deoglade turned away from the sea of ships to look down on the smaller biped, who was now fully recovered from his starvation on Dragiel.

“Every Nu’avi I take with us is less Meerioss I can save.”

“There are no guarantees will find other intact Meerioss systems like the last two. Those with ships are probably long gone to places like this hoping to find refuge. Take the Tru’ak and her guard. That is enough for us to rebuild from.”

“Where the Tru’ak goes, the rest of them will follow,” the Deoglade said, gesturing to the sea of ships they were having to navigate through, for not all were getting out of their way. “How would you suggest getting her here?”

“She will have her own vessels. A rendezvous in another system, with her jumping the opposite way and catching up, would lose these slower vessels. It could be arranged.”

“On your word alone?”

“I would have to go to her. A message would not be convincing enough.”

“If she declines you will be stuck here. I’m not stopping the convoy.”

“Nor am I asking you too. I will take the risk if you will allow her to join the convoy.”

The Deoglade sighed. “Tell her she may come if she brings with her a large amount of Essence. I do not know how much is required for intergalactic transit, but if she can pay her way then she may travel with us by means of the rendezvous you mentioned. But she must not follow our jumpline or allow other ships to track her.”

“Well bargained. Shall I ask for a pickup?”

Before the Deoglade could answer a hologram of one of his bridge crew appeared beside him.

“Apologies, but we have discovered 7 Meerioss vessels within the system. We have inquired to their identity and personnel load. All are freighters, with double to triple their normal crews, but most of their holds are full of fuel and ammo.”

“Military supply craft?”

“Confirmed. They never made it to their destination. It was destroyed before they could arrive. They grabbed a few personnel off stricken ships before abandoning their destination.”

“What was their destination?”

“Targish.”

The Deoglade grimaced. He’d once lived there, briefly.

“Have a number of our ships moved out to them and top off with fuel. When they return to the convoy, the freighters will accompany them. Slow convoy speed to one third current velocity.”

“It will be done,” the crewer said, disappearing from view.

“Take one of our Interlopers,” the Deoglade told the Nu’avi. “I assume you can pilot it yourself?”

“I can manage.”

“If these new vessels joining us don’t provoke a stampede behind us, we will travel slowly to Yem-mark-adva. You will have to beat us there, for we will not wait.”

“How many jumps is that from here?”

“Six.”

“With your permission I will depart now.”

“Go,” the Deoglade said, with the Nu’avi trotting off the deck through a hidden door that had him vanishing into the starfield above the hull. That left the Meerioss alone to view the mass of ships that had nowhere to go. Many showed battle damage, light, but obviously Hadarak. The people onboard these ships would have limited supplies, and may very well be starving to death before him as the four planets here could not, or would not help them.

But out there, around those planets, the Deoglade could see a haze of even more ships surrounding them. Many more. And all were going to be helpless when the enemy arrived. They’d either run to another system, or be stranded here as target practice.

And there was nothing the Deoglade could do to save them. But at least he could pull the Meerioss out with him. Had there been a significant number of the ships here, he would have had to leave them behind as well.

Fortunately that wasn’t the situation, and depending on what kind of ammunition was onboard, his warships would be thankful for the resupply, because they’d used most of their pre-packaged rounds at Dragiel, and then some more in that skirmish three jumps ago whose system he could not remember the number of. There were no planets there worth naming, but it had been a good raiding position.

They’d simply tried to raid the wrong fleet.

The Deoglade had made sure to destroy their ships, which was a mercy rather than leaving the Ueni floating helpless. A quick death was the most the people in this galaxy could hope for now.

Hay’mei flew the odd shuttle crudely at first, but as he got to his jumppoint for the capitol planet he had gotten somewhat accustomed to the purple/red control color scheme. Purple was for navigation, red for weapons, and the buttons, dials, and levers were spread out in no recognizable configuration. But at least they were labeled.

Hay’mei had not brought the other Nu’avi with him. He didn’t want to risk their lives on his gamble. But if the Tru’ak was still here, and he could convince her to leave, then the Nu’avi would not be exterminated with the rest of the galaxy, for a Tru’ak was the source of all Nu’avi live births. A queen, of sorts, and far larger than Hay’mei could ever hope to grow.

When he neared the capitol he got a myriad of warnings telling him to stay away or to transfer to another planet, but when he didn’t follow those orders nothing happened. There were so many other ships here disobeying that it looked like orbital gridding had broken down, and only a ring of warships in very low orbit was keeping the rest above them and off the planet, though most weren’t built for landing.

It took him a while before he saw the orbital habitats, for they were surrounded by vessels, some docked, some waiting to dock, and others being fired upon that were getting too close. It looked chaotic, and he wondered what those ships were trying to do. If the Hadarak or Pafdreng got here, there would be no safe havens anywhere.

Then he finally figured it out. There was food onboard, and if these ships were starving they were going to force their way onto the stations to get it. That or sit and die in the sight of those who had food.

Hay’mei flew well away from those areas, moving up towards the northern pole and tried to contact one of the warships holding position there.

“This is a priority courier requesting permission to land on the planet. The content of the message is with regards to the Tru’ak’s safety.”

He didn’t expect a response immediately, or at all, but he was transmitting on Nu’avi standard frequency and speaking their native language rather than the communal Neofan, and whoever it was, he got a response.

“Permission denied. The planet is currently quarantined. No one in, no one out. Your message will have to be transmitted.”

“Can you guarantee it will reach her? Timing is critical.”

“I can guarantee it will be forwarded to the palace. What they choose to do with it is beyond me.”

“Very well, I can send a small part of it. The rest must be discussed face to face. I have been sent by a Deoglade and require an immediate audience to discuss relocation.”

“Relocation where?”

“I can’t send that on a comm channel.”

“Are the Neofan still holding territory somewhere?” the voice demanded.

“I do not know. I have been given orders to speak with the Tru’ak on behalf of the Deoglade. Please pass along the message quickly. I have little time.”

“Are the Hadarak near?”

“Not to my knowledge. We last encountered them near Men’shi’va,” he said, citing the name of the most prominent planet in the system since the Neofan had designated all systems not belonging to them only as numbers, but the locals always used their own names, however unofficial they were.

“Is there a plan? Does the Deoglade have a plan, or are we doomed?”

“There is a small plan to save the Tru’ak. I had to request it of him, and I am risking myself being stranded here if she does not accept the terms or I am delayed. I must speak with her, for her sake.”

“What about the rest of us?”

“The same as the rest of the galaxy.”

The voice on the other end fell silent for a moment, then returned composed and resigned. “I am forwarding your request. No promises.”

“Understood,” Hay’mei said, knowing that he either had to wait, try another ship, or make a run down to the planet and hope he wasn’t shot down.

He didn’t like any of those options.

The Deoglade had left the observation deck briefly to get some food and rest, but returned to it rather than the bridge to give himself the necessary view to think. He saw countless resources, both in terms of equipment and personnel before him, all of which he could not use. Nor could he redirect them elsewhere. He felt it was a fail on his part not to be able to do something to aid them, but the logistics were determinate. Without the Essence capability of the Neofan, both in terms of their advanced weapons and storehouses, the conventional and lesser Essence weapons of their servants were not sufficient enough to fight back against this double invasion.

So why had the Neofan been worried about what he could do?”

It felt like he was missing something.

Even though this wasn’t a Meerioss system, he could probably assume at least partial command of it. There were warfleets here, plus a lot of industry. He could hold this system against a small to medium Hadarak invasion, but to what end? What was the possible scenario that the Neofan feared enough to kill all the Deoglades?

His master obviously didn’t fear it that much, releasing him to die on his own merits. What could he do amidst all of this? Every planet across the galaxy was a prime target that couldn’t be moved or defended…

The Deoglade froze. He saw it.

The Neofan were not totally leaving this galaxy. Some were hiding in their Temples, and those Temples had to be hidden so the Hadarak would not find them. That meant outside of systems entirely. Probably deep space where the Hadarak could not go, though he didn’t know about the Pafdreng.

But the point was they were hiding, and could only hide a few. Not even all of their own race.

Yet the Deoglade knew there was another way to hide. A hard way. And a way they were not trained for. Everything was designed to operate off the strength of the Neofan and their systems. Technology, information, rare materials…they all flowed out of Neofan systems and down through the ranks with the smallest, most poor systems waiting and hoping something was left for them. Before the invasion there was plenty for all, in most cases, within the Meerioss at least. But he’d encountered those who told a different story, and learned about the ghosts in the system.

Not a star system, but the Neofan system that had previous dominated this galaxy…yet it had not dominated every crack and crevice in it. There were those who roamed the stars and lived exclusively on ships. He hadn’t thought it possible, due to logistical degradation. The ships should eventually wear out, no matter how many repairs one made, and unless you wanted to be a raider, how would generate the income necessary to buy what the Neofan did not supply you?

But now he saw it. The massive industry in this system, behind a curtain of ships that some of it could be repurposed into.

That’s what the Neofan feared. That he would see the pivotal weakness in their empire. The weakness that was causing the galaxy to be abandoned and the Neofan to start again in another. They’d probably known all along, which was why they had infrastructure in many other galaxies for them to fall back to.

Both the Hadarak and Pafdreng were planet destroyers, and the Neofan empire was pinned to planets, both in terms of resources and philosophy. Those who did not have a planet to call their home were the dregs of the galaxy, and the prestige of your planet dictated your status within the empire.

But it was those who roamed the stars who could forever hide from the Hadarak. Not easily. Not reliably. But there was a possible scenario there that he knew how to chase after, for he’d been chosen and groomed for his ability to think outside the dogma the Neofan instructed the empire to use…then they’d told him not to use it. For they needed commanders who could adapt to the unforeseen challenges…but only a few of them.

And it was that creativity that his brethren had been killed for. Because they could come to the same conclusion he just had.

A chunk of this galaxy could be saved, if it could be made mobile, including their logistical chain.

He couldn’t save everyone. He couldn’t save most of them. But he wasn’t helpless. Not while there were systems like this one that hadn’t been touched yet. Systems with the resources he needed.

He almost ordered the convoy to stop, but he couldn’t. This pathway to escape was preferable, and he wasn’t going to throw away what his men had just died for on Dragiel. He had to keep moving, but at least he knew why the Neofan didn’t want him to live.

Because he could keep a part of their empire alive, absent their rule, when right now all they wanted him and the others to do was politely die while they started over again in another galaxy.

The pain that realization caused him was becoming familiar, but a part of him still couldn’t believe they could be so cruel. He had faithfully served them, as so many others had, their entire lives, not just because they had to, but because they wanted to. Because they believed in the superiority of the Neofan.

They would save the galaxy from the Hadarak…but they didn’t. And now it was clear they weren’t even trying anymore. They’d quit and run away, leaving some of their own people behind to die. How apathetic could they be?

But the more he thought about it…and he’d been thinking about it a lot over the past months…he’d known they were like this all along. Not in a general revelation, but little bits of information here and there. He had more contact with the Neofan than most of their servants who never laid eyes on one, and he’d always thought their disdain for him was because he didn’t measure up to them. And that if he worked harder, he would rise to near peerdom and earn their trust.

That had happened with his master, and he assumed the rest were the same…but obviously they were not if they would kill their own Deoglades with no cause. And even his master, who showed mercy upon him, tossed him aside rather than giving him a mission. He could have ordered him to do in secret what he now realized he was capable of…but he didn’t. He simply released him to die in his own way.

After all the work they’d done, the Neofan were showing their true colors…and the lack of any real bonds with anyone outside their own race. And perhaps not as much within it as he would have assumed.

And it was in that moment he, like Yui in the bar, he decided to curse the Neofan…in his mind, at least, and even that felt like treason…but he did it anyway, and when he did a log jam of indoctrination broke and he suddenly realized he’d been imprisoning himself against such thoughts rather than being honest about who and what the Neofan were.

They should have been better, but they were not. And what the Deoglade was truly loyal to was the lies they told him. The lies that were better than they actually were, and upon realizing this he saw a brief moment of superiority over them. For his standards were, ironically, higher than theirs.

“They made me better than them, all the while tricking me into believing I was below them,” he said, mentally adding the caveat about their Essence powers and technology. They did have many advantages, but when it came down to the measure of a man…they were lacking, and the Deoglade was not.

Their servants…the elite ones anyway…had risen higher than their masters.

And it was with that final revelation that he clung to the promises while saying good riddance to the liars who had made them. They could have their new galaxy, but the pieces of their old one were now his to claim.

And claim them he would.

9

November 30, 154967

UTOVI GALAXY

System 22922-00392

High Stellar Orbit

They’d been through four more skirmishes, two against the Hadarak, one against raiders, and one against a race he’d never even seen before, but the Deoglade’s convoy hadn’t shrunk. It had gained Meerioss ships as they passed them along the way, as well as picking up 4 Nu’avi warships that had the Tru’ark onboard one of them, though they wouldn’t say which.

They traveled quietly, and the Deoglade had no reason to talk to them. The promise of freedom in another galaxy was too compelling, as if no one dare spoke of it for fear of it evaporating. The same went for the scattering of other ships from other races he’d decided to include over the past few weeks as they neared their destination and their ship count was still very light.

But now they were here, on the edge of the galaxy with the starfield disappearing in one hemisphere and replaced by the lights of distant galaxies. Behind them the stars remained, as was the faint bulge of the center of the galaxy where the Hadarak reigned supreme and the rubble of the Neofan’s strongest defenses lay in defeat. Out here, on the edge where there was little of importance, was one of the gateways that the Deoglade knew of and few others did, and waiting for them was a small convoy of Rudumak ships, including several Essence tankers.

“Yadria,” the Deoglade said when opening communications. “We are here.”

There was a long pause before the image of a reptilian race from another galaxy appeared in holo on the bridge. “Deoglade. Do you have one of the artifacts?”

“I do. We have the Zanderline.”

“I need to see it with my own eyes before we proceed.”

“You have permission to board. We will continue this conversation in person.”

“Agreed,” the alien said, cutting the comm.

“Make the necessary arrangements. I am going over now,” the Deoglade said, heading down to one of his flagship’s hangar bays and taking an Interloper through the fleet to the vessel that was carrying the Zanderline. He had the pilot board it and wait for him in the hangar as the Rudumak came a short time later. The Meerioss was waiting at the foot of their transport when it landed, and the short reptilian came out standing less than half the Deoglade’s height, but he knew his Essence abilities were far greater than any Meerioss possessed, for the members of the Bond of Resistance got training in the discipline that the Neofan had denied the Meerioss. The kind that took them from being simple users into true mages.

“Did you have trouble acquiring it?” the Rudumak asked as they walked side by side into a nearby lift car.

“Nothing unexpected, but the cost was high. Am I to assume that all the ships I brought with me will be taken to the new galaxy?”

“Easily. Star Force has sent enough Essence for many. How many will retrieve artifacts is dubious, but they sent enough to accommodate all if fortune prevails.”

“Will you be taking us there personally?”

“Yes. Others will remain here waiting on more artifacts.”

“Have any been obtained presently?”

“Only one. They left here half a saoyen ago.”

“Who?”

“I am not to say. We are not here. You are not here. None of this is happening. All perished in the fall of this galaxy. You are nothing more than a ghost.”

“I will not be leaving,” he said as the lift doors closed and they began to move through the ship.

“You don’t have the artifact?” the alien hissed.

“You misunderstand. It is here, and this convoy is traveling to the new galaxy, but I am staying behind.”

“To attempt to gather another?”

“No. I have my reasons. My work here is not yet done. I need to be assured that the transit will not be an issue in my absence.”

“There will be multiple stages of travel. At each Essence will have to be delivered. That is why our ships must travel with yours the entire way. Otherwise you will be stranded between galaxies.”

“Then you will personally guarantee arrival?”

“I do. I am interested in meeting this Star Force and opening up potential business relations.”

The Deoglade glared down at him. “You have never had contact with them?”

“We have not.”

“How do you have the Essence from them? How did you negotiate this arrangement?”

“An intermediary arranged it,” he said nervously. “What we are doing is highly dangerous.”

“How so?”

“Rudumak can travel through network. Intermediary is not allowed to bring you. We are. Their involvement cannot be known.”

“Why did Star Force not contact you directly?”

“They are not part of the Bond of Resistance. They do not have access to send message across galaxies.”

“How can you travel to their galaxy but require an intermediary?”

“Do not ask. I am forbidden from saying. You will be delivered safely.”

Suddenly the truth became obvious. “How did Star Force know of the artifacts if they are not allowed access to the network?”

“A good question. I do not have the answer to it.”

The lift stopped, but the Deoglade hit the pause button so the doors would not open, then he reached down and grabbed the Rudumak by the throat, lifting him up and pinning him against the wall.

“I have a death sentence by the Neofan, and if they ever see my face they will kill me on the spot. They arranged this, didn’t they? They’re going to take the artifacts and kill everyone trying to escape this galaxy.”

“No, no, no…” he pleaded, rather than trying to resist. “It is not like that.”

“How is it?”

“You said you are staying here, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ever going to leave?”

“Doubtful.”

“If you don’t leave and don’t tell your people, I will tell you. This information must not leave this galaxy, and you must promise not to tell anyone ever.”

“Contingent on the safety of this convoy in reaching its destination, I agree.”

“Star Force does not want the artifacts.”

“Who does?”

“House Atriark. They are nearly banned from the new galaxy, because they negotiated a deal to pull their entire House out of this one.”

“I thought everyone was leaving people behind.”

“They are, but House Atriark negotiated to set up in another galaxy. In their Temples. I do not know what the arrangement was, but it was rumored that they were to help the locals fight the Hadarak at the same time the new galaxy was being invaded by the Neofan, as a distraction. Their House is the only complete House other than House Mutavi, but they cannot live in new galaxy. They used other routes to get to this galaxy that did not interfere with primary route, thus allowing more of other Neofan to be evacuated. House Atriark is hated by Mutavi, and is seen as potential overthrow.”

“Why weren’t the artifacts taken with them?”

“Too big. Too costly. Wouldn’t help win new galaxy. Neofan left most people behind here, took only essentials. House Atriark wants artifacts to grow their own power. Contacted us to facilitate transfer. House Atriark cannot be involved. If Mutavi finds out, civil war would follow.”

“So this Star Force is one of their new servants?”

“No. They are not. They control galaxy, not House Atriark. They are winning war against Hadarak with little help from Neofan. They are power shielding House Atriark from Hadarak. Without Star Force, galaxy would fall.”

“Does Star Force really want us, or was that a lie to trick us into retrieving the Neofan their prizes?”

“Star Force doesn’t want artifacts. Artifacts will be transferred to Neofan before they reach Star Force. Star Force requested you and only you.”

The Deoglade dropped him back to the floor gently. “What do they want with us?”

“They want assistance in war against Hadarak. They have a history of taking broken races and rejuvenating them into powerhouses. They are an empire of many races, and grow stronger whenever they absorb another. They want to save Neofan servants and add your power to theirs. House Atriark demands the artifacts, and would not arrange transit deal without them…or so I surmised. They never speak the whole truth unless it is in their advantage.”

“How do you know what Star Force wants us if you’ve never met them?”

“Bond of Resistance did not give us permission to travel to their galaxy. They only allow some. We know how to sneak, and have visited many times, but we cannot place colony there. Others have, and great business relationship with Star Force was generated. They talk. We learn through them and through watching. We wish relationship with Star Force, even if not sanctioned. They are galactic power in the making. Many believe this. House Atriark chose their alliance wisely. House Mutavi expected, rumor says, for galaxy to fall to Hadarak. It has not. Star Force proved its superiority, and grows stronger over time. Their advancement rate is impossible. They hold power Neofan do not possess. They refer to it as lightside power, but none understand it. It is a reference to their fiction.”

“They want to save us, but can’t come here because they don’t have access to the network?”

“Bond of Resistance demands they join to use it. Star Force refuses.”

“And they don’t want the Zanderline?”

“They not know what it is. House Atriark wrote list of artifacts.”

“But the convoy still goes to Star Force?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure of this? Does this convoy encounter the Neofan at all?”

“Neofan at every station in network. They do nothing but watch ships go by. They talk, but other Bond of Resistance members outnumber them. You in our convoy, you are our responsibility.”

“They own us.”

“House Atriark says it will not be issue as long as we keep moving. The Neofan do not have warships in the network except at gateways, and those here were taken away to fight in new galaxy. The path is clear, Deoglade. I have seen so with my own eyes. Once I see Zanderline, I will guide you to new galaxy. Most of saoyen travel, and Zanderline will be taken by our ships, then handed to Neofan out of your sight. Their involvement cannot be known. I tell you this because you not going, cannot reveal. I risk much doing so. They do not tolerate disobedience.”

“I know,” he said, hitting the button to open the doors and walking out ahead of the Rudumak. A few steps later they rounded a corner and came into the massive hangar that held cargo crates and smaller craft stacked on top of each other so thick you could barely see anything, but above them all in the distance you could see pieces of a massive object that had been packed around with salvage the Deoglade had collected on the way here. “There it is.”

“I see and confirm. Your convoy may leave now.”

“Where will you meet Star Force?”

“On the edge of their galaxy a few systems away from the handover of the Zanderline. I will take you there, and I will make my own contact simultaneously. There is much to be gained by developing a relationship in this early stage of their development. If they expel Hadarak from galaxy, as many are wagering, they will rival Bond of Resistance and offer alternative to triumvirate.”

“Is the Bond at risk of unraveling?”

“No. Bond is solid. But many seek more than it offers. Neofan lost this galaxy. Their hold on new galaxy is weak. If they fall, Bond will be reforged weaker. Perhaps new Bond with Star Force. Many possibilities. Star Force has strict code of conduct. Many rules. But they never betray. Loyalty of their Factions is unbreakable and maintained without censorship. How they do it is mystery. Much to learn from them. They also have beasts. Descended from Hadarak. That produces Essence for them. Neofan jealous. We hear this much. Star Force has greater supply than Neofan.”

“They have tamed Hadarak?”

“Alterations have been made by others. Star Force rescue and assimilate. Always assimilating. Always improving those assimilated. Your people will be cared for and made stronger. Several small Bond members requested inclusion in Star Force before Neofan banned such requests citing their control of the galaxy, but we know better. Star Force controls it. They are jealous.”

“I have never even heard of them.”

“Most of your galaxy has never heard of Rudumak. Neofan do not like sharing information. Star Force shares much freely in exchange for code of conduct. Delivering your convoy to them is my point of access. I will not fail. Essence delivered by Star Force tanker to House Atriark, then left at drop point for Rudumak. But Rudumak meet Star Force to deliver you to them.”

“And what if House Atriark decides to destroy you after they have the Zanderline?”

“My ships split. Zanderline goes with some to House Atriark. Others stay with convoy. Handover to Neofan will be separate. If Star Force supplied Essence as told, they will want a return on their investment. If you do not arrive, bad things for House Atriark. I do not foresee betrayal on their part. Would be counter-productive.”

“They may kill you to cover their violation.”

“We have made contingency in case that happens. They betray us. We reveal to Bond of Resistance. Secrecy is our security.”

“Very well. Begin the journey. One ship will be leaving with me onboard after the convoy departs.”

“As you wish, Deoglade. I do not understand why you would stay, but if any fortune resides in this galaxy, may it be with you.”

A few hours after the visual confirmation of the Zanderline, the Rudumak redirected the convoy out of the system to a point where the Deoglade knew the gateway to be. It took several weeks to get there using conventional engines to limp out on the weak gravity, but he knew Essence enhancement would allow a much shorter trip. Most of his ships didn’t possess that ability, and the few that did were not going to waste their limited stores that were very gradually being added to by the crew on a daily basis. It would take years to fill them this way, and what remained had to be preserved in the case of combat need, for there were no more planetary reserves to refill them with. And those the Deoglade had come across on the way here had been drained by others before he could get to them.

The station itself was little more than a giant ring with small boxes attached to it, and inside those boxes were Bond of Resistance personnel. Each was an embassy of sorts, with the crews not comprised of any one race. Not even the Neofan. For the network was owned by all.

The Deoglade knew the first stage of the journey would be out to a true embassy a bit further beyond this galaxy in what was called a Zotav. There were several placed around this galaxy, but beyond that the Deoglade knew little of the makeup of the network. Still, this first passage was something those in this galaxy were not capable of making unless they had the necessary Essence to deliver, not just to get to the Zotav, but enough to get across to the next galaxy. And only a member of the Bond of Resistance could open the gateway, and servants did not count. Meaning that if the Deoglade returned here with abundant Essence and no Rudumak, those onboard the gateway would ignore his or anyone else’s requests for passage.

The Deoglade had chosen the smallest warship in the fleet and ordered the crew off it to the last man. He knew he could fly it for a moderate amount of time before maintenance required a crew to deal with it, but he wasn’t going to ask that anyone stay behind with him. He sat at the helm station, alone the bridge, watching as the great ring shimmered with energy and the first of several Rudumak ships entered, leaving the others of their race here to facilitate other artifact transfers if they should show up.

One by one the Meerioss ships and the scattering of other races with them disappeared into the shimmering portal, followed by one last Rudumak vessel to mark the end of the convoy. Then the giant puddle disappeared and the distant galaxies could be seen once again through its center, leaving the Deoglade to wonder which of them his people were now enroute to.

If it wasn’t a death trap.

There was no way to know for sure, but assuming the transit was going to be legit, then he had successfully rescued a small amount of his people from extermination. He’d won a victory against the Hadarak, the Pafdreng, and the Neofan…but he wasn’t satisfied. The win only whet his appetite for more, but any future victories would not be evacuations beyond this galaxy. They would have to occur within Utovi, which was going to be far harder…but it also gave him the slim possibility of saving billions if he could do what he thought the Neofan feared of him.

And that fear said more about his own abilities than his pride ever had.

Today was the day he would begin exploring that potential as he turned his ship around and began limping back in towards the distant star system. And once he got there, he’d be jumping back into the fray in search of planets that had not yet fallen nor given up and begun tearing themselves apart.

Those who still wanted to fight deserved a chance, no matter how small, and the Deoglade was that chance…and he had a duty to try and rescue those who everyone else had left to their doom.

In all his service to the Neofan he had never had such an important duty, and now, free of them and their orders, he felt more alive than ever before. His fate was his own to make, as well as the fate of the others whose path he would cross.

Utovi was lost. He didn’t dispute that. But within that loss he sensed a secondary path, and was risking his life on that gut instinct.

But it was his to risk, and if he died here it wouldn’t matter. He was dead to his former master, his former empire, and to everything else that mattered.

And in death, he now had a chance to accomplish more than he ever had in life.

If he was worthy of the Neofan’s fear.

He would find out soon enough.

10

Henor Typla could not believe the Deoglade was staying behind, nor could the rest of the convoy, but his decision had been made and he was going off alone in one of the warships, to do what nobody knew. He had chosen Henor to lead the convoy, which also was totally unexpected, and Henor had no idea what was coming ahead of them.

The Deoglade had explained the travel and the arrival, but even he admitted he did not know anything of this Star Force or what would become of them once they arrived, yet everyone knew they’d have a better chance there than here. That had been tolerable when the Deoglade was leading them, for Henor trusted him in. But now that he was staying behind, the unknown future was almost as scary as what they were leaving behind in this galaxy.

But he had his orders, and soon the giant portal opened and the ships began going through. When his hit it, the outside environment turned black. No stars, no galaxies, no lights of any kind. There was nothing for sensors to find, nor gravity for the engines to operate on. They were completely helpless in what was told to be the Essence realm, with the ship encapsulated in a bubble to keep them there.

And if that bubble burst prematurely, they’d be lost in the intergalactic void with no way of being found or calling for help. That didn’t help Henor’s nerves, but he had been assured that the Bond of Resistance…which he hadn’t even known existed prior to his discussion with the Deoglade…traveled this way without failure on a regular basis, and as long as the relay stations were operating there was no threat of collision or bubble dissipation.

So he sat on the bridge and waited for three days, leaving only to eat and sleep, until the blackness suddenly ended and they emerged through another portal with the view of an artificial landscape to their left. It sat on top of a large structure, but his ship wasn’t traveling up to see it. Rather it was being led into another ring-like portal ahead of them via mooring beams, and he barely had time to look around before the ship ahead of them in line disappeared into the new portal, then they followed minutes later.

The blackness returned, and they traveled another leg of their journey, this one lasting 18 days, then they came out of another portal to view a massive grid-like structure that they were actually inside of. Henor knew he wouldn’t have long to look, so he recorded all sensor images so he could study them later, but at a glance there were box-like attachments to the grid that might be internal cities, but the main feature within the grid was more rings. Lots of them, as if this was a nexus point, but he didn’t see any other ships or artificial land. In fact, now that he noticed, there were no stars at all, only galaxies seen afar, and just before they moved into another activated portal he switched to the view behind them and saw the majesty of Utovi spread across the black sky.

It was there, distant, but clearly visible and taking up a good 80 degrees of rear hemisphere. Henor noticed it was not completely edge on, for they were somewhat above the galactic plane and looking down on it…or it could have been above it if their ship had somehow flipped in transit. But it was clear they were heading away from it at an angle, and were already so far from it that they were in the null zone where no gravity reached of sufficient amount to power a ship’s engines…which begged the question of how did they get the materials out here to build this place.

Utovi vanished into blackness, as did the station as they transitioned into the next portal, but upon review of the few minutes of images Henor could see many magnetic launch points on the edges of the grid-work. Similar devices were used inside Utovi for priority cargo routes, and it looked like the same thing extended out here. But why? If you could use Essence to cross between galaxies, why establish magnetic jump points that would go much slower and risk collision? It would take saoyen to cross the gap, but yet there they were in the sensor readings. And he guessed from his ship’s vantage point that there were at least 12 linked pairs pointed in different directions.

And none were going to a nearby galaxy. Not directly at least.

That suggested there might be more magjump links than Essence ones, and if Essence allowed you to travel faster maybe it also made your jumps more accurate. Whatever the case, this Bond of Resistance had built a very large travel network out here for more than Essence use, but even if he wanted to ask the Rudumak about it he couldn’t, for their ships were never in the same place as his, and within the Essence realm there was no communications between ships. You couldn’t even see the ones ahead of you or behind. At least the Meerioss couldn’t with their sensors or limited Essence abilities. Perhaps the Nu’avi could, but he couldn’t contact them either, making this journey a very lonely one save for brief glimpses of the ship ahead of you and the one behind you when they passed through the various relays.

And there were many of them, all taking several weeks to travel between, until they reached the biggest one of all. There wasn’t just a structure built there, but an entire artificial planet. Henor could tell it because of the low gravity readings for its size, meaning it was hollow. The surface was covered with land and water, and six artificial suns were spaced around it and shining down to keep it illuminated at all times. Perhaps they shut off occasionally, but at present they were all on and he could see activity in low orbit from his position in high orbit.

But the planet disappeared as they entered another portal, then more relay stations passed until finally they came to another of the flat stations with the land on top. That had been the first one outside of their galaxy, so he hoped this was the end of their journey…but it wasn’t. They didn’t come out of a gateway into a starfield, but rather to another relay station, and another, and another.

They eventually came to another artificial planet, then passed through more relays until they came to a third artificial planet. After more relays they came to another flat land station, then finally they emerged through a portal that did not have another waiting for them to enter.

The starfield of another galaxy was before them, with the intergalactic void behind…meaning they had come out on the edge of another galaxy just like they had left Utovi on. And before them was the Rudumak lead ships and the part of the convoy that had jumped ahead of Henor’s ship.

The Meerioss let out a sigh of relief, having felt lost in the intergalactic void or the Essence realm. He didn’t know which was worse, but now they were finally back in the pull of gravity, weak as it was, but there was a nearby star they could get to, and as soon as the rest of the convoy arrived the Rudumak signaled for them to follow in that direction.

The sight of the great giant burning blue orb made Henor wish to never travel between galaxies again, as well as him realizing just how dangerous it was. And this Bond of Resistance traveled this way regularly? He was glad Star Force refused to join them, for he did not want to go through that again. At least jumping between stars had a view. The blackness of the Essence realm was maddening.

The convoy was led from system to system, going deeper into the galaxy until the Rudumak demanded the Zanderline be turned over to them. The Deoglade had informed him of this, and Henor had it transferred to one of the alien ships that then jumped away from the convoy save for two. One at the head and one at the rear. The one at the head continued to guide them from star to star until they finally emerged into a system with a heading not around the star to another jumppoint, but to one of the planets in the system.

Henor noticed unfamiliar ships in the system popping up on his sensors. Long ships with round or tapered front ends and an exposed hangar bay on the underside in the rear. Flying alongside them were much smaller vessels in defensive clouds that came near the convoy, but not too near. The Rudumak insisted that all was well and they needn’t worry about anything other than sticking to their heading…which brought them to a planet where several Hee’va ships were parked in orbit.

The Hee’va were also servants of the Neofan…or perhaps former servants as well. Were they the ones the Rudumak had mentioned? Had they also escaped and got here before them.

As if summoned by the thought, a comm opened with the image of the Rudumak appearing before Henor.

“As promised, you have arrived in the galaxy the locals call the ‘Milky Way.’ Our part in your transit is now finished. Star Force will contact you shortly on this channel. They already have your language database, so you don’t have to worry about translating for them.”

“Do you know what we are to do here?” Henor asked.

“That is between you and your new masters. We were simply to deliver you. All your ships have arrived, yes?”

“All are accounted for.”

“Then I bid you farewell, and good luck, Meerioss,” the Rudumak said, disappearing as his ship likewise moved off to a different orbit leaving the convoy tracing its way around the planet in a single line with engines powered down.

It didn’t take long before one of the elongated ships approached the convoy, then a comm prompt from it was registered on the bridge.

Henor tried to compose himself. He didn’t even know what they looked like, and now he was supposed to obey the unknown masters. He wished he knew what they wanted from them, because he didn’t want to displease them immediately by making assumptions. He really wished the Deoglade was here.

The hologram opened up, showing an elongated biped standing erect in a smooth, cloth-made uniform, but where his skin showed it was glowing blue/yellow.

“Greetings. I am Arch Duke Longar, and I have been given command of this star system in order to house and process all refugees coming from the Utovi galaxy. Know that we do not expect anything from you immediately. You will remain onboard your ships and be given information to learn from, after which time you will be relocated to cities on the planet before you to begin your rejuvenation and training to become part of Star Force. It is a somewhat lengthy process, but there is no rush. We can take this as slow or as fast as you wish. You’ve been on a long journey, and the stories we’ve been hearing from Utovi are quite distressing. Right now I just want you to feel welcome and safe here. You are now under our protection and care, and you have no need to fear the Hadarak or the Apocalypse Monsters here. To who am I speaking?”

“My name is Henor Typla,” he said, hoping his dialect would translate properly using whatever software Star Force had running. It had called the Pafdreng ‘apocalypse monsters,’ which he assumed was an error or description. “I am the leader of this convoy only. The one who led us to claim the artifact you wished chose to remain in Utovi. As a result of this, our people are leaderless…and we also have some non-Meerioss with us that we picked up enroute.”

“None of that is a concern. We will sort things out in the coming days. Right now, I need you to deliver a simple message to your convoy. And that is that information is coming that I would ask that every person review and memorize as best they can. It will help ease the transition if you begin the process onboard your own ships. Are you lacking in fuel, food, or other necessities?”

“Several ships are low, but none are exhausted of either.”

“Good. Do any of your people require medical treatment?”

“All battle wounds have been sealed long ago.”

“Sealed? Are they not fully healed?”

“Those that can be are healed, but some of the Hadarak damage cannot be fully healed.”

“I am not aware of any injuries that our medtechs cannot heal. Make a list of those that carry wounds, and we will see if we can find a way to improve on their current condition.”

“You have medical technology greater than that of the Neofan?”

“Possibly, but the Neofan should have such healing technology of their own. It is possible they did not share it with you. We do not hold back such things. Anyone who needs healing, whether they are part of our empire or strangers, are welcome to come to us for treatment at no cost.”

“That is…generous of you,” Henor said in what he hoped was seen as politeness.

“We are a generous empire. Relax, Henor Typla. I can see your discomfort. You do not know it, but you are among friends here. You will not offend us, and I suggest that you simply be honest about everything. But I must ask first, because some races are not as civilized as others. Do you have living beings onboard your vessels that are used as food, experimentation, or other uses?”

“I do not believe so. All Meerioss food is packaged. It is killed elsewhere because we cannot spare the room for live cargo. I would assume the same for the other races, but I do not know for certain.”

“And for other uses?”

“None. We have as many of our own people crammed inside as we can manage. We would not bring animals along in place of them.”

“Be advised, we do not kill and eat corpses. Nor do we experiment on animals. The weak are to be protected, not exploited. We value all life here, and we wage war on those who do not. If there are any animals onboard any of your ships, they are to be turned over to us intact and unharmed so we may see to their safety and well being. Do you understand this?”

“I hear and obey.”

“But you do not understand why we do this?”

“I do not.”

“In time you will learn why. Right now I must see that every person of every race, no matter how primitive, is kept alive and put into our care. Please inquire of all the vessels in your convoy. It would be easier coming from you than me right now.”

“I will do so immediately, Ach Uke.”

“The title is Arch Duke, and my race is Protovic. We are one of many races, but the central leadership in our empire is Human. They founded Star Force, then began incorporating other races, such as my own, into it. We are not of lower rank than them, it is simply that the oldest leaders are those who founded it, and those are Human. We are led by Director Davis, who is Human and a Monarch like myself. We see to all logistical necessities while the Archons and Mavericks lead our militaries. But for now, call me Longar. I would like to meet with you in person, and only you. I wish to use you as an intermediary during this transition process, and I also want to hear your stories of what brought you here, and what is happening to the others in Utovi.”

“Where do you wish me to go?”

“May I send a small ship to land in your hangar?”

“We are at your command, Longar.”

“Then I will land my ship inside yours, and you will join me inside where we will talk and I will answer questions about the new empire you are joining.”

“Have you done the same with the Hee’va?”

“They have been here many months, and yes, they are going through the same process.”

“May I speak with one of them first? I mean no disrespect, Longar.”

The alien smiled. “No offense taken. I will arrange it shortly. When you are ready to meet with me, let me know and I will come over. As I said, there is no rush. Be calm and relaxed. You are safe here.”

“I thank you for that, Longar,” Henor said as the…Protovic…signed off, and soon a new comm activated with the image of a quadruped that also had two large arms and was twice the height of the Meerioss, but the hologram was shrunk to make it the same size as Henor, which did not look right at all and made the Hee’va look puny, when they were anything but that.

“Meerioss,” the fellow servant race said once visual contact was made. “I am told you wish to speak with us?”

“We know nothing about what is happening, and I do not want to make missteps here. Can you tell me what to do and not to do? I am to meet with Longar soon.”

“Be open to learning. Be honest. Hide nothing. Do these three things and they will be very forgiving of any accidental offense. Longar has been assigned here to make us a part of their empire. It is his mission. And he is very good at it. Be aware, though, that Star Force has a reluctance to kill or maim. Their punishment is tedious effort meant to instruct rather than damage. They do not believe in vengeance for those within their empire, but they do extract it on their enemies in a peculiar fashion.”

“Peculiar how?”

“I do not understand it yet, but it is almost as if they trick them into doing the damage to themselves. Many of the races in their empire are former enemies that were conquered, but not destroyed. They put them through what they call ‘indoctrination,’ and that is the process we are going through now. It is a test to see if we can learn to be like them. Those that do not pass take the test over and over again until they do. Those that refuse to learn will stay here forever, for Star Force does not give up on anyone. And it is said that many stubborn individuals have taken the long path to learning. We are trying to make it a short path.”

“Learning to do what? Are we to fight the Hadarak?”

“I asked that. They said that’s a possibility in the future, but for now we are here to learn, grow, and adapt. They said they asked the Neofan to bring us here, because they wanted to help some of us survive. The Neofan demanded the artifacts, otherwise it wouldn’t have been worth their effort. Star Force cares more for our wellbeing than the Neofan, and they don’t even know us. This is a very odd galaxy, Meerioss. Things are very different here. Star Force does not command all of it. Many worlds are free of their control but are protected by them against the Hadarak. It is all rooted in their lightside philosophy, which we are still trying to learn. That is the key to it. And it is unlike anything the Neofan wanted us to become.”

“What artifact did you bring?”

“The Zoenith. And you?”

“The Zanderline. And Star Force wanted none of them?”

“No. They just want to help us, and possibly allow that one day in the future we help them and become a part of their empire. But for now, we are precious cargo that they are trying not to damage. They are allowing us to transition at our own pace, and avoid most contact until we choose it. I was different, and contact was made immediately, as I assume it is the same for you. Take heart, they will not mistreat you. But they do expect much of you, and if you are worthy, they will use you to help the others.”

“I do not know what to do.”

“They will teach you. But be aware that they will teach you things that conflict with what the Neofan taught us. Be open to this. That is the best advice I have. I was not so open in the beginning, and they found an…embarrassing way to open my eyes to the truth. The Neofan taught us many truths, but they also mixed in lies, and this will cause you many problems in your learning. Let go of the Neofan and let Star Force guide you. I believe they are superior to the Neofan, though that is only a guess at this point. I have not left this system to see anything else.”

“You are hopeful then?”

“Very. The promise of this galaxy was not overestimated. And the Hadarak are contained in the Core, with a major war underway to attempt to remove them from the galaxy entirely.”

“Does Star Force possess the Core gateways?”

“No, they do not. They are attempting to do what the Neofan could not, which is why I believe they are superior. Do you know of others coming?”

“I know of nothing. A Deoglade led us to this journey, but chose to stay behind for reasons unknown. I am not the leader he is.”

“Our Deoglades all disappeared. I heard it was the same in the other races.”

“I don’t know about that. He found us.”

“Fortunate. Is he going to bring others?”

“I hope so, but he would not say his reason for staying.”

“If he comes, Star Force could make use of him. This I know. They value skill above all else. It is how they rank themselves. Not by race or bloodline. But by individual skill. And those that lead the empire are rumored to be so formidable no one can stand against them. Not even the Neofan.”

“Has there been fighting between them?”

“Not that I’ve been told. But there are other Star Force races here, individuals, that talk a lot. We learn a lot from them that is not taught to us in the training. There is so much information that it is hard to all remember, but I find I like Star Force more than the Neofan. They do not execute for punishment. Not ever.”

“Never?”

“They have their way. Trust in it, even if you do not understand it.”

“Thank you. I am glad we were not the first here. I feel helpless not knowing where we are or anything about what we are supposed to do.”

“As did I. It will pass.”

“Are we to fight in this war against the Hadarak at some point?”

“Unlikely. They will not send us until we are ready, and I have been told we are far from ready. Do you want to?”

“I feel like I should be now.”

“We feel the same. The rest of our race is dying fighting against the Hadarak, but we sit here learning and doing nothing against the enemy. We did not escape to hide. We escaped to find another way to fight.”

“I wish I could say the same. Some of us feel that way, but many have had their will broken. The Deoglade is the only thing that kept us going.”

“Star Force has their own Deoglades. They are called ‘Archons,’ and some of them are here. I have spoken to two. And they command respect without demanding it. Their bodies are small, but their power is immense. They demonstrated it for us.”

“Are they better than the Neofan?”

“Possibly. They use non-Essence techniques more, and they have many. If they have taught their armies to fight in the same way, then you would do well to learn from them. Most of their troops do not die in combat. They won’t attack unless there is a possibility of all returning alive.”

Henor’s jaw dropped. “How is that even possible?”

“They are very different from the Neofan. In Star Force war methodology, the strongest go in first and take on the hardest fights. Have you ever seen a Neofan go in ahead of us?”

“It’s our place to shield them from danger,” Henor argued.

“Not in Star Force. It’s their leaders’ job to shield us, so we have time to grow stronger and shield others in the future.”

“How do their leaders not die?”

“I do not know. But I am interested in finding out some day. The more you accept them and their teachings, the faster that day will come. Trust them. And trust that they will make you understand eventually. I am partway there, but what I have learned already has changed me. It will change you too, for the better, if you allow it.”

“I do not think it will be as easy as you suggest.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy. I said it would be faster if you choose to accept it rather than fighting it. Are you angry with the Neofan?”

“I do not like to speak ill about them, but yes, I am.”

“Are the others?”

“We rarely speak of it, but some have said as much.”

“One of the individuals here speculates that one day after the Hadarak are removed from this galaxy and Star Force has grown larger, they will conquer the Neofan.”

Henor was speechless for a long moment. “How?”

“Some part of their lightside philosophy. They won’t stand by and allow others to violate it if they have the power to stop them. And the Neofan violate it. They violate it deeply, and Star Force did not know how much until we told them of Utovi and how it was there before the Hadarak invaded. This individual says it infuriated them to learn we eat corpses and kill our own when necessary. Star Force is very anti-death. But they will start wars to stop it. And one day, they will go beyond their galaxy to challenge all who they consider to be ‘darkside.’”

“And they call the Neofan this darkside?”

“I’m told they do now, and before they were uncertain. So if you need motivation, let it be the potential for some far distant future vengeance against our former masters who left us for dead.”

Henor looked down at the ground, realizing his bridge crew was watching as well. He’d forgotten they were there and glanced over his shoulder at them…to find several nodding in agreement with the Hee’va.

“I think that,” he said, turning back to the hologram, “is something we can fully understand.”

“I am also told, that the lightside power is greater than the darkside power, but only in the long term, and that is what everything in Star Force is geared towards. So if they do something odd in the short term, consider the long term implications and it may begin to make sense. They are preparing for wars beyond the Hadarak. And it is for those wars…we think…that we are being recruited for.”

Henor clenched his fist as finally some pieces of this mystery revealed themselves. “Now I am beginning to understand. So we have time to learn and grow.”

“Much time, assuming they can defeat the Hadarak, which I am told they are expected to do.”

“Do you know what exactly they want us for?”

“No. But I’m also told they know how to train. They are experts at it. So whatever they want us to become, they will mold us to it. We do not have to do it on our own. And I, for one, welcome the challenge of it.”

“This is too new to me to say the same, but vengeance I can understand, even if it is far in the future. The others will too.”

“Let that guide you through the coming days. After you start the indoctrination process, it will guide itself, and then we can have a very different conversation.”

“Thank you for your counsel. I do not want to keep Longar waiting.”

The Hee’va nodded and his image was soon replaced with the Arch Duke’s.

“Longar, I am ready to meet with you now.”

“Very good,” the Protovic said. “I will be onboard your ship shortly…”

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