by Aer-ki Jyr
“We will expedite the conquest of this world. I have brought sufficient troops to spearhead any necessary aquatic combat, though the Garas’tox may simply surrender after I have spoken with them. Either way, your focus must become removing the taint from us so we can reunify the empire, and if that requires elevating the Era’tran, then that must become my focus.”
8
November 2, 3669
Previously in the Bastik System
Tew’chor was traveling back to Vviot to meet with Mak’to’ran again, having been unable to find anything amiss with the hatcheries on his world and hoping the Era’tran would have some more answers for him by this point, when his Wur’ki came under unexpected attacked. One moment the system was clear and they were passing through, the next they were taking hull damage before they even had a chance to put their shields up.
Tew’chor wasn’t on the command deck at the time, but when he got there half his ship was wrecked and he found his gravity drives disabled by an IDF. They couldn’t run and they couldn’t fight, but worse was the fact that the alien ship attacking them was something he was totally unfamiliar with. Constructed of huge coils wrapped around one another, it was slightly smaller than his Wur’ki but possessed so much firepower that the Les’i’kron had no idea who it could possibly be.
It wasn’t V’kit’no’sat, but the number of races that had power equal to their own were so limited to be laughable. Whoever this was had completely come out of nowhere, and even as his ship was being blown to bits the thought of Terraxis came to mind. Was this the mysterious traitors, and if so were they allied with one of the factions or was this a race allied to Star Force and quartered in their Uriti Preserve?
Tew’chor probably didn’t have long to ponder such things, but he couldn’t help it. Something huge was going down here and warning the empire was the only play he had left. Using their backup comm systems he sent out repetitive bursts trying to get through the jamming to the nearby Urrtren relay that functioned as a bridge between other systems while this one lay empty. They were too far away from it to show up as more than a tracking dot, so the Les’i’kron had to send their own telemetry to it and Tew’chor wasn’t sure if they succeed or not by the time all their emitters were scrapped.
But the ship wasn’t destroyed then and there. Rather the weaponsfire stopped as one of the coils on the ship unwrapped and rammed into the hull. Soon he got reports of boarding troops and quick dawned his own set of armor, latching it onto the various portions of his golden-scaled body before mentally activating it and having the pitch black material spread out covering him everywhere. If the attackers were boarding the ship they wanted something and he was determined to deny it to them…or at least kill one of them before he was destroyed, though the confines of the ship wouldn’t allow for much flying.
Tew’chor was the only Les’i’kron on the ship, but his Zen’zat met with the invaders first and through their Ensek he was able to see the invaders. There were two of them, quadruped, and almost looked like Les’i’kron save for their long necks and lack of Saroto’kanse’vam. Tew’chor didn’t know what they were, but the crimson armor they wore became his primary target as he saw one of his Zen’zat lifted off the ground and ripped in half telekinetically.
With a fury born of desperation and rage, Tew’chor ran forward while bringing his tail up over his back and igniting his Saroto’kanse’vam. He intended to jump on and eviscerate one of the boarders but he never got the chance as his mind was suddenly invaded by a pressure so strong it disoriented his balance and he fell, trying to push back against the powerful mind working against his.
Meanwhile he was partially aware of the Zen’zat still fighting, their Ikrid blocks coming in very handy right now. Tew’chor’s armor had a technological backup function that he could activate if his own mind was too weak to withstand attack, but he was so overwhelmed he couldn’t find the mental trigger for it. Disoriented as he was, he blindly surged forward, lashing with his tail and cutting through something as he felt resistance. He repeated the attack again and again, not knowing where his opponents were until what was left of his formidable mental barriers crumbled and the attackers rendered him unconscious…
“Be still, Les’i’kron,” he heard a voice say aloud and in his mind as Tew’chor struggled to wake up, blinking eyes that did not want to focus as a powerful presence was still strangling his thoughts. “We are not here to kill you.”
“Release me,” he demanded, but only slowly did the pressure lesson and his vision cleared. He was still onboard his own ship with bits and pieces of wall and Zen’zat cluttering the floor of the main connective chamber that was large enough to accommodate minimal flight. He did not remember getting this far from the command deck, but the slashes in the floor testified that he had been fighting here and not moved, though how long he had been unconscious he did not know.
“You are uninjured, do not make us change that status,” one of the two attackers said as the pressure on his mind vanished and Tew’chor was in possession of his senses once again. He looked down on the smaller attackers, wondering how they had managed to disable him as his tail flashed into brilliance again out of sheer anger.
“What have you done?”
“Your ship is damaged and will be destroyed shortly. Your Zen’zat are also dead, but you will be coming with us alive.”
“You’ll have to make me,” he said, curling his tail up defensively and ready to strike as he reinforced his mind while reaching for the mental trigger in his armor. His telepathy cut out, now blocked, but so too was that of his attackers. They wouldn’t be hobbling him again in such a manner.
“We are here to rescue you, brother. There is no need to fight.”
“You are not Les’i’kron,” he hissed. “Why do you call me brother?”
One of the two attackers had his armor melt across his body in an eerily similar way to V’kit’no’sat technology as it reduced itself down to a series of rings on the alien’s feet…but they were the same feet, same legs, and same scales as his own. Somehow this was a long-necked Les’i’kron, and Tew’chor knew that whoever they were they had to be involved with Terraxis and the alterations made to subjugate his race.
“We are Zak’de’ron, ancestors of the mutated Les’i’kron. We are your true form, and one which you have partially regained on your own merits.”
Tew’chor took a step back, uncertain as to what was happening given how impossible what he was hearing was.
“The Zak’de’ron did not have long necks.”
“Your records have been altered, though there are enough lingering traces to pull together on the Urrtren for those sufficiently curious. Yet you have been designed to not ask questions, haven’t you?”
“Explain this,” Tew’chor demanded.
“We will, but not here. Come onboard our ship. You are now dead to the V’kit’no’sat, and they cannot know we exist. We have revealed ourselves to recover you, but now we must cover our tracks.”
“And my Zen’zat?”
“They are V’kit’no’sat, you are not. They are all dead, as will be this vessel, but you will survive unless you are too corrupted to think clearly. When I was in your mind I sensed otherwise, so please come with us willingly.”
“You kill my Zen’zat then ask?”
“They had to die and you would not willingly allow that, thus the choice was not brought before you.”
“What have you done to my race?” Tew’chor said, not budging an inch.
“The question is what did the V’kit’no’sat do to your race. During the war we were but eggs held in stasis and the only survivors. The V’kit’no’sat destroyed our race then created the Les’i’kron from our remains to serve them. It was no culling, it was a full overthrow and annihilation. Only a small, secret program allowed us to survive. Everyone else was successfully hunted down and destroyed. Your history has been rewritten to obscure the fact that we created the V’kit’no’sat and they betrayed us…the
n they tampered with a genetic code they could not fully understand to create you.”
“Yet you are different,” the other Zak’de’ron continued. “Your mind is Zak’de’ron. Primitive, confused, distorted, but your mind is your own. The Les’i’kron have been eviscerated, but somehow you regenerated…partially.”
“And you want to know how?”
“We already know, and sadly it is not something that can be replicated. Your existence is an anomaly. You are not Les’i’kron, not fully, and you are not Zak’de’ron. You are something in between, but there is enough of us in you to be recovered. We came here to save you.”
“While killing my Zen’zat?”
“They are loyal to the V’kit’no’sat?”
“That is their function.”
“The V’kit’no’sat are our enemy, therefore their Zen’zat are our enemy. They would not willingly change sides.”
“And you believe I will?”
“I believe you want to know the truth, and we have taken great risk in revealing ourselves to you.”
“And I cannot leave with that knowledge?”
“Indeed, but there is nothing for you to go back to. You were never truly one of them.”
“And you wish to take me where?”
“Away from here. Far, far away.”
“To the Rim?”
“We won’t need to go that far.”
“For what purpose?”
“To bring you home. Though you are not fully Zak’de’ron, you are the only elder we have save for one, and even if you are inferior to us you have survived so long amongst the enemy that you deserve to be free of them. We came here out of respect. The method used is to fake your death and hide our existence.”
Tew’chor deactivated his Saroto’kanse’vam and lowered his tail, but kept his armor deployed as he thought fast. It was clear they weren’t giving him a choice, but whether he went willing or not was the question…and they were right. He did want answers. The death of his Zen’zat still infuriated him, but if they weren’t recoverable then there was nothing…
“Revive those two,” he said, pointing a claw towards a pair of Zen’zat that had been shot rather than ripped apart.
“No. They stay as they are. Better to die here than live as prisoners, and we have no wish to care for them.”
“They are mine, and if they are recoverable I wish it so.”
“Only you may come. That is not something we can negotiate, nor is it up to us.”
“I will take responsibility for them.”
“You have no idea what you are saying. You are not yourself. Regardless, we are not allowing it. You will come with us or you will not. The choice is yours.”
“And if I choose death?”
“You won’t. You’ve wanted answers your entire life, and we offer them. More than the V’kit’no’sat ever could.”
“How long was I unconscious?”
“Long enough for us to vet you.”
“If I had not passed inspection you would have killed me?”
“Yes, but we would not have attacked had we not been sure. The crude analysis of your genetic code was confirmation enough.”
“Obtained from who?”
“The initial scan you gave the Era’tran. It was transmitted via the Urrtren to their homeworld.”
“How did you possess it?”
“We created the Urrtren,” the Zak’de’ron said simply, letting Tew’chor run through all the permutations of that simple fact.
“You can monitor all traffic?”
“That is how we discovered you. You have hidden well over the millennia, and you deserve both answers and your freedom. We offer it.”
“My Zen’zat.”
“Were we in your position of ignorance I could understand, but we know what the Zen’zat are. We helped to create them, and their loyalty is hard to break. If they are V’kit’no’sat, they must die. There is no other way.”
“Why? Why must the V’kit’no’sat die? If you are truly the originators of the empire, why not reconquer it?”
“A mistake was made once. It will not be made again.”
“What mistake?”
“Sharing power. They took what we gave them and used it to destroy us. Never again.”
“There has already been too much killing. The empire is obsessed with it. That is a mistake you should also learn from.”
“There is much you do not know. Let us show you, then level what criticisms you will.”
“Very well…since I apparently have no choice. If I am to die fighting, I can do so just as well elsewhere,” Tew’chor said with a hint of sarcasm.
The second Zak’de’ron retracted his armor, showing that they both were red scaled. When Tew’chor retracted his, the black material pulled back to reveal the golden scales that seemed to catch their eye.
“What is the significance of my coloration?”
“Only a Zak’de’ron who has endured great torment and overcome it will be endowed with the golden scales. Given your lackluster record, it is assumed that your battles has been internal ones, and the gold is indicative of your Zak’de’ron mind prevailing against the mutations. Our inspection of your mind has confirmed this.”
“How many of you have golden scales?”
“None that still live.”
“So I outrank you?”
“No. The gold is a mark of excellence, not status. You have no idea how much you have been denied. Your struggles have been at an infantile level, but that does not make them any less important. You had no direction other than your instincts. In some ways that is more impressive, but you are not our equal, let alone our superior.”
“Are all Zak’de’ron minds so strong?”
“We were working together, but individually I am still stronger than you. As is he.”
“I sensed only one mind, not two.”
“We were using a psionic the V’kit’no’sat do not possess called Pa’no’semak. Our minds are joined as one, but even if we had not used it, yours is malformed. The V’kit’no’sat prevented much of it from forming for they feared our power.”
“Sav?”
“Our natural state recreated for partial use in others. Yours is a partial reclaiming of your birthright. We can return the rest to you.”
“You said the damage done was irreversible for the others. How can I recover what they cannot?”
“Developmental progress. We could restore them, but it would require a total reset. They would lose all experience and become hatchlings in mind once again. Your mind has enough structure to avoid that. More questions you have and we will answer, but we cannot linger here. We must destroy this vessel and cover our tracks.”
“I sent a signal to the Urrtren. Did it get through?”
“What we wanted of it. The records will be altered and your vessel will appear to have been destroyed by the Era’tran.”
“The Era’tran?”
“The more discord we can create the better, but that is not our purpose here. Recovering you is, now come with us.”
“And leave your armor here,” the other one said. “Bring no V’kit’no’sat technology with you.”
“And abandon my only defense?”
“It will not allow you to defeat us. We are also physically superior. If we want you dead you will be. We are not so reckless to allow otherwise. Come with us, brother. Leave the V’kit’no’sat behind you. Your future is with us.”
“Will you cut off my tail as well?”
“After we stretch your neck,” the Zak’de’ron joked.
“So be it,” Tew’chor said, deactivating and lifting the various pieces of jewelry off his body telekinetically and dropping the mostly linked mass in a pile on the floor next to the lower torso of a severed Zen’zat body. “If there is necessity in this, make me see it.”
9
When Tew’chor walked onboard the Zak’de’ron ship he immediately felt an eerie familiarity, so much so he stopped walked
a few strides in. The dragon in front of him turned its neck back.
“What is wrong?”
“I know this…somehow. I’ve never seen it, but it feels familiar.”
“Bits of genetic memory the V’kit’no’sat did not successfully remove. More may trigger now that you are here. Come.”
Tew’chor followed through the connective dock that sealed up behind them and visibly bent as the ship reformed. The straight hallways ahead of them was now curved and they followed it through a labyrinth with no visible exits, then the Zak’de’ron ahead of him stopped in front of a piece of wall and a doorway formed with the material melting aside much as V’kit’no’sat armor transformed. He followed inside to where there was a larger chamber that would allow a limited bit of flight, for there was a hollow area with multi-tiered perches around the perimeter.
There was another red-scaled Zak’de’ron inside who looked Tew’chor’s much larger mass over.
“Welcome, brother. Have a seat while we attend to matters here and ask what questions you like. We will be leaving soon.”
“Why are you all red scaled?”
“We are young. All of us are red scaled during our formation, then when our attributes are calibrated our scale color will adjust accordingly.”
“How so?”
“The prominent skill set determines the coloration. Blue scales are a powerful mind, yellow a powerful body, and grey powerful psionics. There are a few other possibilities, such as your golden scales, but those three are earned once the minimum requirements are met. None of us has risen to that level yet.”
“How old must you get?”
“Several thousand years at least. It is a matter of skill and development, not time.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Only a few million. We are all young save for our sole elder, for we survived the destruction of our race as eggs and were born only a short time ago.”
“The culling occurred almost 900 millennia into the past.”
