Star Force: Mak'to'ran (5)

by Aer-ki Jyr

  What is it? Mak’to’ran asked as the two began to walk out of the hangar.

  Something you will not like…and something many may call me a traitor for.

  I am used to being called traitor. Tell me.

  I will show you, but I need your promise that you will not engage in combat.

  Is there a threat onboard?

  Some might think so, but no, there is not. I need your word you will think, not engage.

  I will hear you out. What have you brought onboard?

  You will see soon, Hamob said cryptically, then he refused to comment further as they continued through the ship to a secure area with guards outside. The pair passed them by, moving into a virtually abandoned section of the ship that felt eerily empty…which was when he realized that he couldn’t feel the rest of the ship either.

  “Psionic dampeners?”

  “Yes,” Hamob confirmed. “You will see why they are necessary shortly.”

  Mak’to’ran took him at his word and followed without further question up until they came to a closed doorway, then Hamob looked at him warily.

  “Do not engage,” he reminded him.

  “Why would I?”

  “Because you have before,” Hamob said, mentally opening the door and walking in.

  Mak’to’ran followed him, seeing a barracks area with numerous alcoves on either side where Era’tran would be berthed along with large padded seats in the center of the large open area that were currently empty…except they weren’t, and several tiny heads popped up from the other side at the sound of their entrance.

  Reflexively Mak’to’ran activated his armor, expanding out and covering his body in battleplates before he even realized he did it as Hamob stepped in front of him.

  “Stand down. They are here under my protection,” the Elder Era’tran said as four much smaller bipeds hopped over the cushions and cautiously walked up behind him. They were not wearing armor, and Mak’to’ran clamped down on old reflexes while lowering his own, staring past Hamob at the four milk/white-skinned bipeds as they locked eyes with him, tipping their heads sideways and back again in annoyingly familiar fashion.

  He looked at Mak’to’ran. “Explain.”

  “I’ve been in contact with them for many years,” Hamob admitted, drawing a shocked look from Mak’to’ran. “I had a few scout ships pushing into Hadarak territory on assignments for the work we were doing delving into the mystery of the Zak’de’ron. I wanted confirmation of several assumed facts concerning the Hadarak but the Elder Conclave never would have given permission. One of my ships came across an inhabited system within Hadarak territory. They have several, and have been holding off their attacks repeatedly…on their own. You know they had some legitimate reasons for what they did, so I attempted to open up a line of communication and they responded cautiously. We’ve had a dialog ever since, and even before I sent you out to become the rebel leader we needed, they have wanted to rejoin the V'kit'no’sat.”

  “Rejoin?” Mak’to’ran said, looking at the tiny Rit’ko’sor. “For what purpose?”

  “Errors were made on both sides,” Hamob interjected. “But we are still brothers, and a reuniting will strengthen the V’kit’no’sat in the long run. You can do this, because you hold leadership of the V’kit’no’sat and are trusted.”

  “Do what?” he demanded, walking around Hamob and looking down at the closest of the Rit’ko’sor. “Speak.”

  “Our rebellion was not a rejection of the mandate of the V’kit’no’sat, but of the bad leadership. Ever since the Zak’de’ron were purged the V’kit’no’sat were tainted. We did our duty to fight it, and now that the old order is gone we wish to rejoin the empire on the original terms.”

  “How have you survived in Hadarak territory?” Mak’to’ran demanded.

  “With blood,” the Rit’ko’sor said sharply. “We knew it was a place you would not go, so while our race was regaining our honor we also took several systems from the Hadarak. They were not in them, but somehow they knew when we arrived and have sought to continually repel us. We have fought and won each time, but at great cost. We acquired 8 systems and have not expanded beyond that…and you have not probed deep enough into Hadarak territory to find us. We had our freedom.”

  “At the cost of nearly your entire race,” Mak’to’ran countered.

  “There was no other way.”

  “And now?”

  “We have always been loyal V’kit’no’sat. It was the empire that turned against us…or more pointedly, we who turned against those who created the empire. The Zak’de’ron were the bond that held us together, kept our purpose pure. We betrayed them under false pretenses, to our continual shame, but we regained our honor when we rejected the other betrayers. We are loyal to the true V’kit’no’sat, and if the empire is returning to purpose, we wish to rejoin it and help to one day destroy the Hadarak.”

  “I cannot believe you still survive there,” Mak’to’ran admitted. “What strength do you possess?”

  “Enough, but our population is low. We cannot assist much in the present, but if we are allowed to come out into the galaxy again we can regrow quickly if not hobbled.”

  “8 systems is nothing,” Mak’to’ran decreed. “You cannot field enough ships to continually fight the Hadarak.”

  “We learned new ways to fight them.”

  “How?”

  “They cannot jam our communications, and no one else of consequence is in Hadarak territory. We rebuilt our fleet specifically to fight them, and in order to preserve our limited population we fight using unmanned vessels.”

  Mak’to’ran’s head flipped to Hamob immediately, but the Elder Era’tran shot down his question before he even had time to ask it.

  “They are not the Terraxis sponsor. Until I found them they could not risk exposure. They have not left Hadarak territory since the Rebellion.”

  “Their techniques are superior to yours,” another Rit’ko’sor said bluntly. “We had to adapt and learn, as did the heretics that Hamob has told us of. Fighting the Hadarak with manned vessels is foolishness, yet remotely controlled vessels have a weakness against other races. The V’kit’no’sat waste more people fighting the Hadarak than they would lose against other threats that exploited comm weaknesses, and you have not learned. You repeat the same strategies and only adapt when forced to. We have been forced to day after day in order to survive, so we are in a better situation to advise how to fight them than you are. We can contribute in that regard immediately.”

  “Are you aware how many Rit’ko’sor I have personally killed?” Mak’to’ran all but growled.

  “Less than the number of Era’tran we killed,” another of them said, glaring up at the much bigger biped. “We are both covered in blood, and we wish to cleanse ourselves of it by building a new future rather than living in the past.”

  Mak’to’ran turned away, walking sideways past Hamob as he visibly struggled with the situation presented to him.

  “I should shoot you,” he whispered.

  “If you think it would help,” Hamob offered sarcastically.

  “This was your plan all along?”

  “Part of it,” he admitted. “The Zak’de’ron are gone. We have to replace them. And by we I mean the Era’tran. If the Oso’lon or J’gar advance, then that is a welcome thing. But you and I both know they are stuck in their ways. If we are even going to begin to match the level of the Zak’de’ron we cannot be held back by our new peers. We must exceed them. If the Zak’de’ron were still here, they could pardon the Rit’ko’sor. If we are to replace them, we must begin to take on their responsibilities and powers.”

  “The Era’tran cannot do this from their current standing,” Mak’to’ran said evenly, “but you think I can?”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “The others will not agree to it.”

  “Would the Zak’de’ron care? Or would they just order it so.”

  Mak’to’ran huffed. “We may aspire
to their level, but we are far from it. You know this better than I do.”

  “Agreed, but the empire is hurt, the Hadarak are unleashed, and Terraxis remains a lingering poison. You are all that is pure and unblemished. You are the heart of the V’kit’no’sat now, regardless of what the Oso’lon and J’gar say. Terraxis still clings to them like a noose. You are their alibi. You have the leverage, and now you must use it for the benefit of the empire.”

  Mak’to’ran sneered and turned back to the Rit’ko’sor, walking directly up to them and wishing the psionic dampeners were not in place, else he would have forced his way into their minds to test their strength…and if lacking he would have gained the answers to their true motivation.

  “If you have held off the Hadarak all these millennia then you have skill worthy of respect, but the scars from your rebellion are still fresh.”

  “More for us than you, I can guarantee that, large one.”

  “Perhaps so. Do you have surveillance of them beyond your systems?”

  “We do.”

  “Can you tell me their current strength and locations?”

  “Somewhat. They move around a great deal, and every now and then a large mass of them will come out from the deep core as if on patrol. They do not go to the front. They come near it, passing through both wrecked and intact systems, but they do not feed on them. They make their rounds and return.”

  “How large?”

  “Tier 3 and above. Twice we have detected a single tier 6 with them.”

  Mak’to’ran’s body felt an icy chill run through it. As far as the V’kit’no’sat knew, there was no such thing as a tier 6.

  “How large?” he repeated, this time with different consequence.

  “Too large for us to fight. For some reason those patrols never passed through our territory, and unless they enter ours we avoid all conflict with them. Perhaps they underestimate our strength or do not fear us, but they do test us with their smaller ones. Or maybe they are testing themselves in some form of ritual or training.”

  “But their greatest power is still lying dormant within the core?”

  “Yes. And if it comes out there will be nothing you can do to stop it. I have personally seen one that is planet-sized. We have been trying to develop weapons capable of fighting that, but nothing of consequence has arisen. That said, we have made developments, or rather improvements, to other weaponry.”

  “Equal to what we possess?”

  “Greater.”

  “You have advanced that far in exile?”

  “We stole the blueprints for what you would not share during the war, then improved upon them. We’ve had ample opportunity to field test them in battle.”

  “How much of an improvement have you made?”

  “We’ve increased effectiveness against their armor by 23%.”

  Mak’to’ran took an involuntary step back. “Then you have accomplished more than the empire has in your absence,” he said, glancing at Hamob.

  “We have become lax,” the Elder Era’tran agreed, “without the Zak’de’ron leading us.”

  “No longer,” Mak’to’ran decreed. “I will not let that mistake continue, and if you can vouch for them, I will make this reunification happen...as painful as it will be.”

  “I would not have brought them to you if I felt otherwise,” Hamob said evenly. “We both need this.”

  “Treat us fairly and we will do likewise,” the Rit’ko’sor said. “But we will not be trampled on again. Hamob has convinced us that the Era’tran and you, specifically, will not allow that to happen.”

  “Has he?” Mak’to’ran asked, starting to feel the old animosities slacken a bit. As he and Hamob had discussed, the Rit’ko’sor Rebellion was not wholly uncalled for. “I know Rit’ko’sor well. You are not to be trusted, given what you accomplished…yet to have survived against the Hadarak as you have is no small feat. It is something that we have never done. For that reason I will regard you as you are, not as you were. If you wish to rejoin the V’kit’no’sat on honorable terms, then so be it. We will need all the help we can get to deal with this Hadarak invasion.”

  “And those honorable terms?”

  “Will be discussed now,” Mak’to’ran said firmly as he glanced at Hamob, once again acknowledging his wisdom. “We have no time to waste.”

  10

  November 19, 3696

  Itaru System (V’kit’no’sat capitol)

  Wendigama

  No smoke rose from the capitol, but the damage from the fighting still remained. Priority in repairs had gone to the planetary defenses, leaving the wrecked buildings clustered into regions visible from orbit as the debris and deconstruction was resulting in small clearings within the cityscape.

  One non-defense structure that had also been given priority was the Elder Conclave. The original facility had been destroyed during the fighting and the one Mak’to’ran was walking into now was freshly built and inhabited by those leaders from his rebel Conclave with a few additions. Each race represented here was having to go through its own reconciliation with their various factions with only the Era’tran and a handful of others with fully intact leadership. Even the Oso’lon and J’gar were having to reincorporate those survivors from the Itaru faction…but no Era’tran had joined them, though many had stayed and died to hold territory here.

  They’d been caught up in the fighting and contributed greatly to the rebels, but they’d always been under the leadership of Holloi. Their race was united, the others weren’t, and that gave them a bit more authority in the transition as everyone scrambled to reunite as fast as possible to counter the Hadarak as a single empire rather than an alliance of factions.

  Mak’to’ran walked with a phalanx of Era’tran and Zen’zat escorts with him in the lead and the others fanning out into a narrow ‘V’ that encompassed the 14 Rit’ko’sor that he was taking into the Elder Conclave. Everyone knew they were coming, for the revelation of their existence and the infighting that resulted from it had already passed, but Mak’to’ran and the Era’tran were adamant that this was going to happen and even the Oso’lon and J’gar reluctantly accepted his decision…though with the taint of Terraxis still on their heads they didn’t have the leverage to try and overrule him.

  The other races were mixed about the reinclusion until Mak’to’ran had revealed that the Rit’ko’sor had knowledge and technology specifically tailored to fight the Hadarak. That had swayed some, and those that remained wholly opposed to the reabsorption of the treasonous race had it personally explained to them by Mak’to’ran that he was in command of the empire and he was making the decision…and that they would dishonor it at their own peril.

  No one wanted to cross him, so while the Rit’ko’sor drew an amazing amount of attention on approach to the Elder Conclave there were no security breaches. No assassination attempts or mischief, though Mak’to’ran wasn’t going to be able to guard them forever. That said, this initial transition was going to be the most jarring so he was going to walk them through it personally and dare anyone to defy him. Hopefully that would keep the races in line long enough for the reality of the situation to sink in as the Hadarak pushed into more and more systems with a growing line of V’kit’no’sat evacuees fleeing the border worlds.

  When they actually got to the Elder Conclave the Hjar’at guardians admitted him and the Rit’ko’sor with his escorts staying outside and adding to the guard. Mak’to’ran walked in with mixed feelings. In the past every time he had been here he had been awed by the sanctity of the location. This was the heart of the V’kit’no’sat Empire and the place where decisions of great magnitude were made. He’d been respectful and admiring of it…but now he was not. It was a functioning and necessary body, but one that he now outranked.

  Additionally, he knew that the highest level decisions were not made here as the triad within the V’kit’no’sat worked on its own to guide the empire into the future while the Elder Conclave provided more of a maintenance
function…though few knew that. The Yaern’ek led the Era’tran knowing that the wisest leaders were giving them instruction, but the Elder Conclave did not. Many secrets that Mak’to’ran now knew were kept from them, and for good reason, but at least they knew that he outranked the Conclave, so the deception was less than it once was.

  The Oso’lon and J’gar had perpetuated a lie and held ultimate power for themselves, but as the Zak’de’ron had learned, the true power of the V’kit’no’sat lie in their masses who were represented here in the Conclave…and Mak’to’ran was going to work towards the true unity that had been promised them, but before they could get to that point the Era’tran had to attain the mantle of the Zak’de’ron.

  Mak’to’ran doubted the Oso’lon or J’gar would get there. They were obsessed with maintaining what they had rather than reaching beyond. They were comfortable with the lie of superiority over the Zak’de’ron, but the Era’tran were not. And today was going to be one of many steps going forward where the Era’tran gradually took over. Not to crush the other races under their feet, but to elevate and bring them into a community of brotherhood that Mak’to’ran had thought he’d hatched into. The parts of reality that were a lie were going to be removed and replaced with something real…and the Era’tran were the only ones capable of doing that.

  In truth, Mak’to’ran was the only one capable of bringing the Oso’lon and J’gar to heel. Him and the fact that Terraxis was still a mystery and suspicion remained. That said, they were not inclined to relinquish control, so Mak’to’ran was going to have to remake the empire piece by piece over time, and reabsorbing the Rit’ko’sor was the first step in that…for they did not want the Rit’ko’sor back. They wanted them tracked down and annihilated.

  But they didn’t get what they wanted, and this would be just the first of many things that the Era’tran would overrule them on, further diminishing their dominance within the empire as they had no choice but to give ground or face a revolt against them if they behaved as if they were the traitors…and fighting against Mak’to’ran would do that, for he was the single individual that was seen as incorruptible within the empire.