by Aer-ki Jyr
“You have no right to be here, no matter what the situation is,” the Oso’lon said, looking down on the Era’tran from nearly twice his height, for Trebrel was one of the smaller Oso’lon Ultras whose shoulders rose higher than Mak’to’ran’s head. “And who authorized you to possess Rentar? It is forbidden to the Era’tran.”
“I authorized it,” Mak’to’ran said, throwing a Jumat blast at half power into Trebel’s long neck, smacking it backwards while he stood nearly immune to the immediate backlash from the Oso’lon, though his bioshields nearly fell to the piercing nature of the Jumat energy. “It is necessary to deal with obstinance such as yours. What do you have to say to the…”
Mak’to’ran didn’t get to finish the sentence before the Oso’lon swung his neck down and tried to headbutt him. He dodged before a Lachka hold took hold and delayed him just enough for contact to be made. The Era’tran was driven backwards, but he didn’t bother to use his armor. The Oso’lon had none, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of the mismatch.
He reached out with his own Lachka and held the Oso’lon’s neck down, then jumped with all his might up and onto the Ultra’s back. He head butted down into Trebrel’s neck, then released the biggest Jumat blast he could directly down, knocking the Oso’lon to his knees before he was thrown off. Trebrel didn’t bother to try his Lachka again, rather rolling to the side and dumping Mak’to’ran off, then driving his legs hard to force his back like a battering ram to the side.
Mak’to’ran fell off and rolled over, coming up to his feet just as the big Oso’lon’s tail whipped around. He took it on his Nakane, but his bioshields collapsed and he got whacked in the face, wrenching his neck around, but he held his ground as the tail came back in a reversal. He activated his claws and merely held them out, letting Trebrel impale himself on them.
The Oso’lon roared even as Mak’to’ran was knocked down, for he now had multiple holes that were stretched into slashes. The Jumat blast that came was so large that Mak’to’ran, now without his Nakane, could not withstand it. It tossed him across the hallway into the far wall, but Mak’to’ran simply squeezed the Oso’lon’s tail telekinetically, making the wounds hurt even worse.
“Do I have your attention yet, you fool?” the Era’tran asked, releasing his grip before another blow could fall.
“You are the foolish one to think you can invade our chambers and assault me with impunity,” Trebrel said, turning around to face him squarely. “You do not rule us.”
“I warned that we would be vulnerable. I warned that our fight was with the Hadarak, but you do not listen and now we are under assault on all our borders! I could kill you now if I wanted, but what do we have need of more dead V’kit’no’sat? There are too many dying already.”
“Even with your illegal upgrade, you cannot kill me, Era’tran. And I am nearly to the point of killing you to prove it.”
“You will find that far harder than you imagine,” Mak’to’ran said, though he wasn’t actually here to kill him. At least, he wasn’t there yet. “How many systems have we lost?”
“Three,” the Oso’lon said, glaring down at the other Oso’lon and Council guards who had allowed Mak’to’ran inside.
“And how many are under assault?” Mak’to’ran countered.
“537 as of today,” Trebrel said, giving the exact number that he was obviously aware of. “Border worlds that we can afford to lose if needed. Star Force is the greater threat. Why can you not see that?”
“You promised this would not happen, and now when it is thrown in your face you still refuse to acknowledge the mistake?”
“The mistake was yours. You have left us divided.”
“It would not matter!” Mak’to’ran yelled. “We only have so many ships, and the Hadarak border cannot be abandoned. What else can we do to protect our territory other than recall your fleets?”
“You can let the Hadarak have a few worlds, join us against Star Force, end this even more quickly, then we can return to the Hadarak.”
“Is this the final decision of the Oso’lon, or your own stupidity?”
“We stand united…though some are lacking in conviction,” he said, referencing his guards. “And your actions here will not be tolerated. I may spare you, but your leadership of the V’kit’no’sat is over.”
“So be it then,” Mak’to’ran said, activating his armor and charging the Oso’lon…then all hell broke loose.
“What?” Hamob asked when a priority message came in to his private residence on Holloi from the Yaern’ek.
“We have received word from Itaru,” the representative of the active leadership of the Era’tran said, though he was in fact junior to the reclusive true leadership of Hamob and a few others. “Mak’to’ran is there, and he has killed Trebrel.”
Hamob’s eyes widened. “For what reason?”
“No reason has been stated. Itaru is in a state of chaos. But initial reports indicate Mak’to’ran is leading a coup against the Oso’lon.”
“What of the J’gar?”
“They have remained silent, though our reports are preliminary only.”
Hamob was thoughtful for a moment, then sighed regretfully. “They pushed him too far. There is only so much incompetence and corruption Mak’to’ran can stomach.”
“Is he in the wrong?”
“That depends how you look at it. If keeping the empire together is our highest priority, then he is in the wrong. If there are higher concerns, then he may be in the right, but logistically speaking a conflict with the Oso’lon while we are under assault on multiple fronts is stupidity on the grandest of scale.”
“Then why is he doing this? Did he consult with you first?”
“No. I assumed he was still fighting the Hadarak.”
“How should we respond?”
“Respond to what? Has he made a request?”
“He has not contacted us at all.”
“Then wait until he does. Until then, watch and listen, but do not act. Our focus must be on the Hadarak.”
“We cannot ignore this.”
“We will not,” Hamob promised. “But we cannot act until we know what is transpiring. Until then, do nothing.”
“What of our fleets?”
“Do not alter their current assignments, but begin formulating orders for their repositioning against the Oso’lon if it should come to that. If the time comes, I will give the order. You are to alter nothing until then.”
“We are to remain neutral when our fleet in Itaru is engaging in battle?”
“Fighting who?”
“Unknown, but there is heavy fleet engagement. This is not a personnel realignment.”
“Mak’to’ran will have a plan, whether he has informed us of it or not. We will stand ready, but take no action until he calls on us.”
“And we will follow him into civil war?”
“I do not know. We need more information. We cannot act on assumptions.”
“We will get it shortly. Until then we cannot act as if nothing has occurred. Word is spreading across the Urrtren.”
“Tell them what we know…which is not enough. We need further information before acting.”
“As you wish, Hamob, but I do not like this.”
“Neither do I, but we both know this has been inevitable in its coming, Traveen.”
“I had hoped you were wrong. And the timing is horrible.”
“Unless the timing is a result of the invasions.”
“What do you suspect?”
“It is irrelevant. I do not want to comment without further information.”
“But you have a suspicion?”
“I always have suspicions. That is nothing new.”
“When your suspicions become confirmation, please inform us. We must ready the Era’tran for whatever is coming.”
“I know your duties, but for the moment you are to maintain and await orders. The future of our race is my concern.”
“And the prese
nt events ours. We will wait, but there will come a point when we must respond. I hope you have your answers by then,” the Era’tran said with a respectful nod, then ended the transmission.
“Mak’to’ran, what are you doing?” Hamob asked to the silence as his thoughts moved to Itaru and he opened up a direct computer link to the Urrtren to see for himself what little information had made its way out across the galaxy thus far.
The Primearch of the Oso’lon was not in Itaru. He was in another system a quarter of the way around the galactic Core, but when he’d heard that Mak’to’ran had personally gone on a rampage killing elite Oso’lon, he knew this was not some mild squabble that could be resolved with the loss of some ships. The triad established to end the recent civil war had been tenuous and slowly stabilizing up until the revelation of the return of the Zak’de’ron. Yaniel had confided in the Primearch and no other, and the Primearch understood the secrecy needed to insure the survival of the V’kit’no’sat.
But Mak’to’ran also knew of this, yet he was committing treason once again, and against the Oso’lon specifically this time. Whatever had caused him to flip was something significant, and the Primearch knew it had to have something to do with the Rim assaults. They were disturbing, and continually escalating, but overall they could not seriously hamper the empire. Defeating Star Force was the key to unifying the V’kit’no’sat so they could prepare for the return of the Zak’de’ron, and even this inopportune turn of events would not shake them from this path.
The Primearch feared Mak’to’ran was of the opposite mind, and if intractable, only the J’gar Didact could settle this. The Primearch was heading to meet with him as he received a return signal indicating that the Didact wanted to meet in Itaru, along with Mak’to’ran, and settle this amongst themselves before the situation got any further out of hand.
So he’d altered course, heading back the way he’d just come and retreading ground until he passed his original, private system and continued on his way to Itaru, getting more and more recent updates the closer he got. By the time he arrived, Itaru was no longer the V’kit’no’sat capitol. Instead it was an Era’tran-led bastion of rebellion, with Mak’to’ran having somehow managed to oust both the Oso’lon and the Elder Council, planting himself as the sole ruler of the system.
That was not expected. Not at all. Even with all the fleets sent to fight Star Force, Itaru held massive defenses in orbit, not to mention those on the planets…and yet, there wasn’t that much battle damage visible upon arrival into the system, and traffic flows appeared to be almost normal.
The J’gar Didact had arrived before him, signaling the moment the Primearch arrived to rendezvous with a huge J’gar fleet holding position in neutral space between the 16th and 17th planetary orbits and far from any other ships or stations. By the time the sizeable Oso’lon fleet arrived at the same location, the Primearch had learned that most of the planets and various enclaves in the system had chosen to side with Mak’to’ran and his call to defend the empire rather than pursue the war with Star Force.
Those who had sided against them were either dead or taken prisoner at the end of a violent, but short lived civil war within the system…leaving Mak’to’ran in control of everything, including the Oso’lon settlements, some of which had even sided with him before being attacked. That act of treason rankled the Primearch, but the swift change here worried him. Had he misread the masses that badly? He could not tell them the real reason behind the war, about the Zak’de’ron, but that should have worked to his advantage, for why would V’kit’no’sat not want to put down the lingering heresy of Star Force?
The Didact invited him onboard the J’gar’s massive command ship that was, in fact, a Mach’nel. The Oso’lon Mach’nel were in the war zone, but those that had opted to fight the Hadarak instead were still here and the Didact had felt like bringing one, either as protection for himself or as a reminder that the bulk of the Oso’lon power base was beyond the Rim border and presently unavailable to the Primearch.
The Oso’lon transferred over to the Mach’nel and landed in one of their air accessible bays. Most of the ship was flooded with water, but they’d made a few levels air capable for the Zen’zat to operate in without special equipment and it was there that the Primearch and 6 Oso’lon guards were welcomed by the J’gar’s own Zen’zat and led to one of the pools where they could interact face to face.
Inside of it were many J’gar, glowing with bioluminescent patches below and above the surface as their necks reached up into the air much like the Oso’lon, except that the J’gar could breathe both air and water, as all V’kit’no’sat aquatics races could, but one individual above all the others stood out telepathically, and it was to that one that the Primearch focused his attention.
“You have been here long enough to study the situation. What do you make of it?” he asked the Didact.
“Mak’to’ran has full control of Itaru, and taking it from him now is unfeasible. He has the support of the other races, including pieces of our own. They want a leader that will act against the threats against our own territory, and if we do not heed that calling I fear many of our worlds will side with him as well.”
“They will be culled if they try.”
“We are beyond that, Primearch. The galaxy has changed and now the empire is under direct assault from someone other than the Hadarak. This is unprecedented, and we are losing worlds. Our dominance is in question, and that is something the V’kit’no’sat cannot tolerate.”
“Trebrel is dead, as are other Oso’lon,” the Primearch protested angrily. “Are you suggesting I am to just ignore that fact?”
“You must…at least for the moment. We are to speak with Mak’to’ran, and there must be no violence.”
“If he comes before me I will kill him myself.”
“No, you will not,” the Era’tran said, stepping out of the shadows and the telepathic inhibitor that was hiding him there.
The Primearch spun around, thoughts of treason surrounding the J’gar, but the Didact’s telepathic response was as calm as ever.
We are here to settle this, and it will not be settled with blood. Stand down and listen, or you will give our empire back to the Zak’de’ron with little effort, the Didact said telepathically so the guards and Mak’to’ran could not hear.
“You should have told me he was here before I came onboard,” the Primearch said as Mak’to’ran walked closer, without armor, then stopped a good distance away from the Oso’lon leader while his guards were standing at the ready to attack whenever needed, for they did have armor on and many weapons in it to kill the traitor.
“We needed to speak in private. Can we do that and dismiss our retainers, or are you going to behave like an arrogant hatchling and demand millions more of us die while all can be settled with a simple conversation?”
“You are pathetically optimistic,” the Primearch snarled, “but I will grant you your conversation…so long as that traitor keeps his distance.”
“Mak’to’ran?” the Didact asked.
“Killing him without my armor would be difficult, so I will not try,” he said with obvious animosity.
“Very well then,” the Didact said, looking to his left and gesturing for the other J’gar to leave. The dozens of long necks dipped back down into the water and their glowy presences disappeared deeper until they were gone entirely, then the Didact looked to the Primearch.
“Wait outside,” the Oso’lon said, with his own 6 guards being very reluctant to leave, though they obeyed none the less. When they were gone and the doorway sealed, the little Zen’zat surrounding them everywhere scurried away, leaving the hangar-sized chamber completely empty save for the three V’kit’no’sat triad leaders.
“For the sake of the empire and our future war against the Zak’de’ron, we have to end this now,” the Didact said firmly, swimming up into the shallows and resting his body on the submerged ramp so he could get closer to the two widely spaced peers who
were both keeping their distance from one another.
5
“This will end with his execution,” the Primearch said angrily.
Mak’to’ran huffed sarcastically, but offered no other response, instead letting the Didact lead this conversation.
“If he dies, we die with him,” the J’gar said earnestly. “He is all that is holding the empire together. That is evident here, where factions of our own races have sided with him. You and I still bear the taint of Terraxis, and we cannot cleanse it without revealing the existence of the Zak’de’ron. If we do that, we lose our own advantage against them. I do not like the situation, but it is what it is. Your plans to destroy Star Force became untenable when the Rim races began attacking us.”
“You and I are the V’kit’no’sat. The fact that we have allowed him and the Era’tran to pretend be our equals does not make it a reality. And our invasion continues. We can suffer losses on the Rim now if it benefits us greater in the long term. It is a cost I do not want to pay, but pay it we will if needed. Star Force must be destroyed or annexed, if not they will grow into a far larger power.”
“A power we need to fight the Zak’de’ron and the Hadarak,” Mak’to’ran interjected. “Not to mention the Chixzon.”
“They cannot be allowed independence. We cannot control what they will do with our stolen technology. They may very well give it to others, then our dominance over the galaxy will diminish greatly.”
“Our dominance is gone,” the Didact said firmly. “We are set for execution, and we must defeat the Zak’de’ron before we can ever claim dominance again. I do not know how we can do that, so our focus must be on survival, not dominance.”
“We must eliminate the enemy before us now, while we can, and deal with the unseen threats later,” the Primearch insisted.
