by Aer-ki Jyr
But the Mainline units would turn back, or should have. They’d stayed too long, and now Sara had them. The Ysalamir beam shot out from the Castle not at the Hadarak, but through the Mighty Mouse formation and it hit Sara’s ship on the upper side directly on the armature that absorbed and redirected it wherever the dreadnaught wanted.
The ship had caught the ball, so to speak, and then it launched it through a minion swarm towards a cluster of Mainline ships that were only now trying to turn and run. The Ysalamir energy went right through the minions like they were not there and arced from one Mainline ship to another, hitting 6 before they spread out too much for it to make another jump. Instead it just bounced back and forth between those in range, melting through the Yeg’gor armored hulls and punching out the far side.
They were dead before they knew it, but they didn’t’ explode. Rather they roasted from the damage, pouring out smoke through the holes as they drifted on their last controlled trajectories, including into some minions that didn’t get out of the way fast enough, with the collisions bouncing them off the hull like ping pong balls.
“They should have seen that coming sooner,” Alden said, somewhat disappointed, for this wasn’t the first time they’d used that tactic here. He did a quick mental search on all Hadarak units in this combat area, past and present, and did a tally of how many had arrived since the last use of the ‘beach ball bounce.’
“Interesting,” he said, noting that all the previous Hadarak large scale units had been killed, but not all Mainline fleet ships had. Maybe that suggested the tactical brains were not in the fleets, but the large ones. Perhaps even the Wardens, who remembered and adjusted rather than simply relying on instinct. Or maybe they had just forgot to tell the new arrivals as much as they needed to know.
“Bring the courier to pod 167. I’ll meet it there,” Alden said, hopping off his command nexus platform and heading for a dropship that would get him there faster than the in-filament lift shafts, for pod 7 was an entirely different station from where he was now.
Helpless or not, he wasn’t going to bring a V’kit’no’sat into the very heart of the Castle. Nobody got this far in unless they were Star Force, with the refugees and observers stashed away into approved zones and pods further out in radius. He’d meet the Era’tran there and see what this was about, hoping it was worth the 1,293 drones he’d just lost opening the hole in the Hadarak lines to get him in here.
3
Bran’cen was amazed at the efforts of the Hadarak to keep his ship from getting to the Castle, along with the ferocity and durability of their Mainline warships. They didn’t go down easily like the minions, except to the Ysalamir. Witnessing that firepower was awe inspiring…and now he knew why the Hadarak were not assaulting the Castle.
It didn’t have just one Ysalamir, but many. He didn’t know exactly how many shots it could fire at once, but there were redirection orbs everywhere on the filaments, far more than there were habitats or docked ships. Yet there were many of those as well, and from the look of it the interior of the Castle was its own civilization keeping the Hadarak at bay not by walls, but with the threat of a massively destructive gauntlet they’d have to run to get at the inner regions.
The Castle also seemed to be segmented by radius. The outer filaments had no habitation, only a scattering of warships ready to respond if the Hadarak made another attempt to attack with another minion wave. Those had already destroyed several redirection orbs and filament strands, effectively bringing in the no-go line for the Hadarak a bit closer, but those filaments also had standard weaponry on them and shields, so the minions couldn’t just chew away with immunity. Add in the warships and drones stationed nearby to assist, along with the Ysalamir discharges, and the Hadarak would have to waste an insane amount of the little minions to do even moderate damage.
And that damage was currently being repaired by visible construction crews ringed with drones around the damaged areas. They were rebuilding, but with what the Era’tran did not know. They had no access to the planets in this system, and if resupply was this difficult they had to have stores of materials stashed away or already fabricated components. Either way, what damage had been done prior to his arrival was disappearing slowly as the Hadarak were forced to wait outside.
A moderate way into the interior of the Castle and there were Mach’nel-sized habitats attached to the filament strands like docked ships, and the Hjar’at confirmed that they were in fact detachable if they needed to be moved, though their engine power was limited. They couldn’t out run the Hadarak in free space, but if one side of the Castle was under attack they could detach and move to another section while the fixed weaponry placements killed the minions without having to leave the denizens in harm’s way.
And anything larger than the small minions couldn’t spread out enough to survive against the Ysalamir. The forking of the weapon discharge was limited, so it couldn’t spread through 10,000 minions as other weapons could, but a few splits and bounces had been worked into the Ysalamir enough to not waste the massive blast on individual Mainline ships…though the discharge level could be modulated with smaller, more rapid fire shots bouncing out across the Castle web, making it virtually impossible for any of the well armored Mainline versions to survive in here. And the big Wardens wouldn’t get very far with the dampening shields preventing them from ramming their way inside. They’d stick on the exterior long enough to be hit multiple times, though a group ramming attempt had already been made.
The Hjar’at had shown him the replay from earlier, when 8 Wardens had all tried to ram into the Castle at the same time…and none of them had made it past the outer ring. Their momentum had been blunted by insanely large shield generators…the kind of which not even Itaru had possessed…but these were only for momentum stoppage, not energy deflection. The Castle defended itself with firepower, not shields or armor, and the Ysalamir weapon burnt through the Yeg’gor the Hadarak had used for eons to shrug off conventional weaponry as if it was nothing more than mundane mass.
The downside was the weapon didn’t do any better against lesser targets, but it didn’t need to. There were Tar’vem’jic batteries scattered throughout the Castle web, along with a wide range of other weapons with the more expensive ones being modular and moveable so not to lose them if one section of the Castle fell.
It seemed odd to feel so safe inside of what was essentially empty space, but Bran’cen had no doubt the Hadarak were not getting into the center of the Castle…though neither was he. It was forbidden for visitors, and the only visible chunk of mass within the center was a cluster of redundant structures that the Hadarak had no hope of reaching intact.
The warship he was on didn’t let his Kaeper go, but rather brought him to one of the mid-range rings of the Castle where the largest of the habitats were located, then docked near one against a filament that allowed him to travel down it without having to use a drop pod or the Star Force version known as ‘dropships.’
He figured they had made the name change out of spite long ago, but they meant the same thing even if they were not the same shape. They had done a lot of that, taking from the V’kit’no’sat empire most of their technology without honoring the legacy that had spawned it. But then again, the V’kit’no’sat had tried to kill them multiple times, so he didn’t begrudge them some lingering resentment, though he hoped their leadership had moved beyond that now, as Mak’to’ran had suggested was the case.
When the Era’tran got off the lift car he stepped out into an oddly green environment. This habitat had trees everywhere, many of which were taller than him by a factor of 4. There were paths beneath, blocking out most of the light from above, so small lamp posts were scattered everywhere around the wide trunks to make for a nighttime environment despite the brightly lit artificial sunlight he could see above as the lift came out in a rock wall at a higher elevation.
The Hjar’at lead him down the stone stairs and into the under canopy world, not seeming to car
e that he still wore his combat armor and could pose a threat. They hadn’t made him remove it, which was odd. Either they trusted him or they were not concerned with what little damage he could do with three Hjar’at trailing him as escorts.
Little people were running around the smaller forest paths, many of which he did not recognize their race, but there were almost no Humans at all. The larger paths held many familiar silhouettes, for they came from the races that made up the V’kit’no’sat, though these had probably been hatched into Star Force. Still, it seemed odd seeing them moving around in that empire’s garb while not reacting to Bran’cen as a potential threat.
The lead Hjar’at led him through the larger paths for a very long time, eventually bringing him to a break in the canopy that had a small building in it…but he soon learned it wasn’t a building, but rather an entry hatch to the cityscape beneath the forest, which was just a park area…and potential battlefield…that visitors had to pass through before getting to the highly populated areas below.
The artificial construction swallowed him up as they walked down a ramp then through many tight corridors before coming out into the more natural cityscape that had larger airways beneath the solid ceilings. They traveled on foot a bit further, then boarded Star Force’s version of a Satu that they called a ‘skyway.’ It was still just an elevated shield tract that propelled them along at greater speeds after stepping upon it, with no structural reason for the name change.
Bran’cen was led deep into the Star Force city before they got off and entered an aviary dome that was 10 times as high as the city ceiling. Inside of it were a large array of winged races flying about from perch to perch, while the center column was left clear for free flight practice.
Out of that central column a small, non-avian descended, with Bran’cen realizing it was a Human flying without augmentation, meaning they had to be using the Yen’mer psionic. This one descended direction in front of the Era’tran’s face as the three Hjar’at walked off in different directions, leaving the Human alone with Bran’cen as they stood on the edge of a body of water that he sensed had many large aquatic races within it.
“You wanted to speak to a trailblazer,” the Human said in V’kit’no’sat. “I’m Alden-031. Speak.”
“Is this location secure?” Bran’cen questioned.
“There are no threats here. And no communication occurs beyond the Castle that any of those nearby can access. Whatever message you have, it can be delivered here.”
“As you wish, Alden,” the Era’tran said, producing the crystal in the palm of his hand, then placing it back into a position on his armor in jewelry mode, allowing him to play it.
A hologram in equal size to Bran’cen appeared to his left, as if another Era’tran was there, with the image of Mak’to’ran coming to life in such detail that passersby would not have known that it was not a living pair of the massive bipeds.
“I am alive,” Mak’to’ran said simply, “by a chance of fate. Eldorat’s attack ripped off my head and I was assumed to be dead, but my loyal Zen’zat reattached my head almost immediately after, resulting in a lingering coma rather than death. The others with me, whose reattachment was delayed, suffered far worse. Most were unrecoverable. By the time it was determined that it was possible to heal me over time, Eldorat was still active in the system and my survival would have been invitation for him to return and attack again. Our planetary defenses could not stop his Essence attacks, so anonymity was the only weapon the Zen’zat could use to keep me alive.”
“Once he was killed…with your assistance…it was discovered that my recovery would take hundreds of years of manual rehabilitation to my brain cells in order to retain my memories. The Elder Council was not informed, nor was anyone else. I was smuggled out of Itaru to undergo therapy on Holloi. I was partially recovered with significant brain problems when the planet was invaded some two centuries later. I had to flee with my healers without knowing what was occurring or who I was. Most of my memories were locked down until they could be repaired, leaving me with a great deal of confusion and amnesia. I do not recall most of what happened, but we were pursued and my brain locked up in error, as I was told it usually did after a short period of time.”
“Without a healer to reset me I was laying helpless when I was shot multiple times. Something inside me shifted, and I was able to use my Essence to heal the rest of my damaged brain. Thanks to your counsel on such matters, I was able to avoid depleting my body and killing myself with further efforts. I now have the ability to use Essence in small amounts, and it is the sole reason why I was not killed on Holloi. A few of my memories were permanently lost, but most I retained and was able to defeat the Zak’de’ron’s servants in combat. Since then I have been impersonating the dead Elder Garuva to avoid those vermin coming back to finish what they started. That is why it was necessary to deliver this message to you in person. Knowledge of my existence must be safeguarded until I can fully secure Jamtren, which is now under my control but greatly weakened and blockaded after their first assault barely failed.”
“All the Elders here are dead. I am the only bastion of wisdom remaining, which is why I did not come to you. If I leave Jamtren it will most likely fall. I have mostly hatchlings to fight with. Everyone of merit met the enemy at the first beachhead and made their last stand there. It was enough to save the planet, and I woke much later into the aftermath when both sides were depleted and fighting like juveniles. I was able to turn the battle to our advantage and drive the invaders out, but Jamtren is gutted and I have little communication beyond. What I know is that most of the empire is depleted, but intact. The Urrtren is down and no one knows where the enemy is or how powerful they are. They are taking any worlds of opportunity, but they do not have the ships to overcome the legacy defenses. Had they more, Jamtren would have fallen easily.”
“I am rebuilding in Jamtren and exerting some influence in neighboring areas, but I am blind to the empire and to Itaru. I now learn you have safeguarded the Ter’nat worlds…including taking the ones the Era’tran were successfully securing. This must not be allowed to pass. I need the Zen’zat, and without Ter’nat I cannot produce more. I thank you for stepping in and doing what we could not in many places, but I cannot allow you to take them all. We must have Zen’zat, though it shames me to admit that fact. I have so little to work with that I cannot let go the advantages they offer the Era’tran. We must come to an arrangement regarding the Ter’nat, and I need to speak with you of that matter, my Essence breakthrough, this war that I forbade to start yet it is here nonetheless, and the Hadarak, whom I fear are farther into our empire than I have been informed.”
“If I had time I could rebuild, but there is none. The Zak’de’ron and the traitors are weakened, but they will rebuild in time as well and launch larger assaults, all the while the Hadarak are not waiting for us to end this pointless carnage. I made sure this outcome would not occur, then within days of my ‘death’ the Elder Council ignored my wisdom and launched an attack against the Zak’de’ron supposedly to avenge me, but it was not. They have wanted this war, ignoring their duty to stop the Hadarak, and they got what they deserved. I assume they are all dead, but if any remain they are irrelevant now. Itaru has fallen, the empire is fractured…how far I do not know, but many worlds I have contacted as Garuva want nothing to do with the Era’tran. They are looking out for themselves, ignoring others of their own race, and trying to stay alive through this carnage.”
“I no longer command the V’kit’no’sat Empire. I no longer command the Era’tran race. I have the Era’tran capitol and a number of other Era’tran worlds that are loyal, with only a few couriers connecting us beyond the local region. Fortunately I still had some backup interstellar relays in place beyond the Urrtren, so I am not completely blind beyond the blockade, but it is little compared to the need. I have accomplished much since waking two decades ago, but there is no time to rebuild. Much of the empire still exists, and it will not fall quic
kly, but the strongest and wisest of us are now gone…and I cannot reach those who need my guidance. I do not have the fleet to secure the spacelanes. The J’gar now control them.”
Mak’to’ran glanced at the ground, weighing his next words carefully, then he looked back up again to where Alden was floating in midair, with Bran’cen keeping the transmission fixed on the trailblazer’s point of reference.
“I need your help. Long ago I made the mistake of seeking your destruction, and your superior ingenuity defeated me twice. I gambled then, allowing you to live rather than continuing to seek your demise, and you have grown your Rimward empire into the dominant force within the galaxy. What once made the V’kit’no’sat empire great has been destroyed. Our genetic and technological legacy lives on, but only through what will be a slow death. The Zak’de’ron will erase us in time, and my best efforts will only allow a negation of their advances. I cannot win this war with what little I have, and if Holloi still stands free it is because they do not have enough to overwhelm it. We are both reduced to fractions of what we once were, but they will rebuild faster, for they have had to do it before.”
“As much as I want to kill them, the Hadarak are the greater threat, and it shames me how the Elder Council abandoned you to fight them alone, but I cannot change the past,” Mak’to’ran said, throwing his small arms wide. “Fate does not wish to let me win. No matter what I have done I have been thwarted. We developed Ysalamir and Legion, and we were using it to win. Then as soon as I am gone, everything falls apart. I have come to the painful conclusion that the V’kit’no’sat empire as it was, let alone what it is now, is below my caliber. These are not my kin, they are hatchlings that need instruction, and I cannot give it to them without time. Time which no longer exists.”
“I do not seek an honorable death as others have. I will always pursue victory, no matter how faint a trace of it there is. And against the Hadarak, it will not be the V’kit’no’sat that lead the way. We have abandoned that duty and destroyed the strength necessary to oppose them. You have that strength now, and it is we that must support you. I was resistant to admit that to even myself previously, but now there is no point in denying the obvious. We have fallen as much as you have risen, and this is now your galaxy to defend. What I ask is that you help us help you, and since I cannot leave here, I need one of you to come to me so we can hammer out an alliance that will save what is left of my empire and retask it to fighting the Hadarak.”
