by Aer-ki Jyr
“How can we hold the line with so few stations?”
“They are not to hold the line. They are to provide safe havens for those who do hold the line. All other V’kit’no’sat systems with more than one planetary defense station will also donate their additional units to the Grand Border. We won’t be able to move them quickly, but it will be far faster than producing new ones.”
“That will still not be enough to hold even a small fraction of the systems you are referencing.”
“Not hold,” Alden said, sensing Mak’to’ran hadn’t thought this through all the way. Then again, he had the help of his brothers and sisters, plus Davis, so he shouldn’t have expected him to see what the rest of them did. “The Grand Border will become a battleground and kill zone. We need fixed positions spread everywhere on it within short range of all the systems for the hunter teams to operate out of.”
“And the planetary defense stations will ensure we do not easily lose our logistics strongholds,” Mak’to’ran added.
“Yes. Against the minions. A warden can just land on and squash one with ease if it’s large enough. The Grand Border security will be in two parts. The minions will be your part, while our ships hunt their heavy units. You can layer in Ysalamir later to assist with that, but right now the minions are the primary concern. They are kicking our ass right now by hitting systems that we are not in and spreading through them. We cannot block all routes to the Rim. But the Grand Border can if implemented correctly, and only your empire has the resources to do it in time to save the bulk of your territory and everyone else living within it.”
“What are we to hunt with? Our fleets are decimated.”
“You will have a lot of rebuilding to do, and construction of the Grand Border will not be as simple as putting some warships along a line. You will have to fully colonize it.”
That didn’t go over well. In addition to the sounds of shock and revulsion from behind, Mak’to’ran also flinched as Alden suggested putting them closer to danger than they already were.
“Explain the wisdom in that,” he demanded.
“We need to undo the damage the Zak’de’ron did to your races. They spread you out so you can’t reinforce one another quickly. We need Era’tran worlds next to each other, so that if one is attacked reinforcements can arrive to assist before heavy damage is done. The Grand Border will be broken up into sections given to your primary races. Your secondary races, based on attributes, will be reformed into co-operative civilizations so they can hold individual sections without your assistance. The Era’tran will have your own territory, close to one another, with no other races in it, V’kit’no’sat or otherwise. And you will defend it as one race, and one faction, within our empire.”
“And our existing worlds?”
“You hold onto them as support worlds and fallback positions if the worst is to come. They will have to fuel the colonization effort, so abandoning them is impossible. They will also have to begin massive reproductive surges. We will need more population than you have left. Far more. And they can be trained from hatching in the ways of our combined empire while those of you already here will have to be retrained to lose your wasteful and dishonorable practices, while preserving your strengths. Those who enter into it willingly will not take a great deal of time to make the transition, though it will take millennia before it becomes second nature.”
“And what of the Zak’de’ron?”
“If they don’t agree to an armistice based on prudence, we will take care of them to free you up to begin constructing the Grand Border.”
“By withdrawing your warships from the current one?”
“No. That is a last resort if we must conquer them. I don’t plan on going that far. We don’t have time for it. If they insist on war…and they very well might…I have some friends who will come play with them.”
“Those in your captured Temples?”
“Nope. Those we can trust are already on the border fighting. The rest we have to keep contained, for they could easily kill us if we got in range of their Essence abilities. We have an ally that is not currently committed to combat in this war, but they are very good at it. In fact, they were designed for it, and they really like fighting.”
Mak’to’ran snorted in surprise and took a step backward reflexively, stunned at how oblivious he had been. Star Force did have another fleet. One they were not using in combat. And one that was so overpowered that many had forgotten they even had it.
“You will use the Uriti against the Zak’de’ron. For the combat they were originally designed for?”
“As I said, they like fighting, and while they do not wish to fight their kin, they are very apt and eager to kill the little people that we sanction was needing to be removed. The Uriti are not a force of conquest, but one of obliteration, and we will use them as such if needed. Hopefully bringing them in as guards for your most vital systems will send the appropriate message, and when they get here we can also have them start spawning their own minions, under our Wranglers’ control, to assist in your defense and convoy escort. If the Zak’de’ron do not back down, then we start going after them, and they don’t have anything other than your captured Legion to hit them with. And we know how to guard against that with our escort fleets. We will own them in combat.”
“Hopefully all databases with Legion specifications were destroyed before capture, along with the vessels themselves,” Mak’to’ran noted, though he didn’t sound too confident in that being fact. “What will be involved in this ‘retraining’ you spoke of?”
“We can’t spare the personnel to treat you like hatchlings, so this will only work if your people want to do this. We don’t have the luxury of bashing skulls and twisting tails until you comply. If you agree, then we will fashion you into separate factions based on your race or assigned border sections that will be separate from the Knight factions. They are designed as response teams to go anywhere in the empire that needs them. You will become homeguard factions, dedicated to holding a specific territory only. And by doing so you will shield the rest of the empire from the Hadarak.”
“What will be the chain of command?”
“Our empire is not based on chain of command, but chain of skill. Those who are wise, experienced, and knowledgeable do not require oversight and operate essentially independently within our empire. Only the Archons and the Director outrank them, though when one respects skill, other individuals with higher levels are accorded unofficial status when involved in the same combat theatre. We work as a team, not servants bound to a master.”
“And your Paladin?”
Alden shrugged. “Well, their race was so bound to their genetic memory it would have destroyed them to try and change them into something else, so like we will do with you, we take your strengths and modify them with upgrades. The Paladin are treated as individuals when they wish it, but most do not. They live and fight as groups, and we modified their genetic memory to reduce the negative side effects of this. You are already individuals with a skill level far higher than them. The conversion will not be overly difficult compared to our other annexations. And we have already practiced with the Knight races, so we know pretty much what we have to do.”
“And what does that involve?”
“You agreeing to make the V’kit’no’sat into the border guards for our combined empire, operate under our rules of conduct, and allowing us to rework your races as needed to upgrade you to our level of warfare. Basically what the Zak’de’ron could, and should have done long ago if they weren’t a flock of lying frauds.”
“We are not apt to accept new masters, trailblazer. I cannot guarantee compliance.”
“Then they have a choice to make, because we’re not fighting your war for you out of generosity.”
“Many still will not. They have been betrayed too often.”
“Alright, then let’s just talk about the Era’tran.”
“We cannot encircle the galaxy.”
&n
bsp; “I’m not asking you to. But if the Era’tran make the conversion and the doubters witness it, that may be enough for the bulk of them to agree to join up. How many Era’tran worlds can you give me?”
“You haven’t told me enough yet. If I am not convinced, they will not be.”
“The Uriti escort fleets will be for their protection, not for yours. You will get none of our resources, for we can’t afford to spare any. What you will get from us is leadership and some technical upgrades where appropriate. You want to live to see the future? You have to earn it. This isn’t charity, and there are many in Star Force who still remember what you did to us and wouldn’t mind seeing either the Zak’de’ron or Hadarak wipe you out. But I know there is worth in your empire, buried under years of corruption, betrayal, and stubbornness. So we’re willing to let go of any vengeance and unify, under our terms, and give you what you always wanted. Or at least were promised. To make you Hunters of Hadarak, for real. No false promises. No deceit. Just a soon to be unwinnable war to throw yourselves at while we still have a slim chance of victory.”
Mak’to’ran looked out at the other Era’tran, having a telepathic conversation that Alden wasn’t privy to, then he looked back at the floating Archon before him.
“How would this leadership work?”
“You get us. One trailblazer for each race, and we’ll double up where needed on the smaller ones. If you’re committed to this, we’ll be all you need once we get the Zak’de’ron off your tails.”
Mak’to’ran squinted at him. “You believe you hold that much power inside your tiny frame?”
“We survived your death mark through skill more than luck, and we have ascended beyond your empire at its peak, let alone what it has devolved into. We are the architects of Star Force’s rise, and we will be the architects of the V’kit’no’sat’s rebirth if you are willing to accept our leadership in full. No caveats.”
“You claim a great deal of superiority, little Zen’zat,” Mak’to’ran challenged.
Alden didn’t say a word in response, but rather pulsed his Essence into an aura around him, twisting and curling it into various vortexes and glowing to Mak’to’ran’s enhanced vision. It was an impressive display of power, but one that none of the others could see, and in that message there was a double meaning. The trailblazers held many powers that the V’kit’no’sat could not see. How else could they have survived when so few and so fragile, then risen to such heights now?
“When I announce my survival, it will be an invitation to a second invasion of this system,” Mak’to’ran noted.
“Do they have enough left to get past my flagship?”
“I do not know what they have, or where,” the Era’tran admitted.
“Then let’s find out. Reveal yourself and see what shows up.”
“For what purpose?”
“To draw off attacks on other worlds and buy them some time until we can get to them.”
Mak’to’ran thumped his tail on the ground, silently cursing himself for not thinking faster. Perhaps it was loss of memory, or perhaps he had just gotten so use to losing that he had forgotten how to be strategically bold.
“I wish to hear more of your strategy, but my personal decision is made. I made the mistake of labeling you an enemy twice, and both times you outfought me. Then when you had the power to fight us as equals, you chose to ignore your rightful vengeance. And now when it would be easy for you to achieve, you offer absolution. I do not fully understand the way of your lightside, but I can see that it is the superior path when given the opportunity to play out. Let this be my atonement for past wrongs done to you. I accept your unconditional leadership. Use your lightside knowledge and forge us into a weapon worthy of our namesake.”
Mak’to’ran knelt, one knee then the other, and bowed his head low to the ground.
It took a moment for the gravity of the situation to sink in, then one of the other Era’tran followed suit behind Alden. The others hesitated a moment more, then began dropping to their knees in a very odd position that made them vulnerable, but then again perhaps that was the point.
Eventually all the Era’tran mimicked Mak’to’ran’s position, then the Zen’zat came forward in unison and formed ranks, pressing their balled right fist against their left breast in a gesture of solidarity.
Alden looked down on them all from his elevated position, waiting for them to rise but they did not. They were waiting for his command.
“Alright guys, rule number 1. No bowing. A warrior should never leave himself so exposed.”
Mak’to’ran stood up, as did the others, putting them back at eye level with him. “What is rule number 2?”
“Rule number 2 is that there are no rules for warriors. We do what is right, and what is right cannot be completely codified, so rather than accept being sometimes wrong we do not cling to a code, mandate, or rules for our elite. We feel our way forward, in the moment, and you are going to have to learn to do the same. Otherwise someone is going to have to babysit you constantly, and we don’t have time for that.”
“We will rise to the duty,” Mak’to’ran promised. “What is your first command?”
Alden held up a hand and created a huge hologram above him of the Star Force symbol, rotating slowly in place.
“Start redecorating.”
9
March 8, 128827
Immas Negal System (Delogi Region)
Mukarr
When the Era’tran scout ship entered orbit around Mukarr the planet was already abuzz with the news of its arrival in the system. The Ranto’non stronghold had been isolated from the rest of the galaxy ever since the Urrtren went down and they’d not tried to fight the J’gar warships roaming the spacelanes beyond. They had 4 planets in this system that were fully developed plus another 8 moons that had colonies of varying sizes on them. There were planetary defense stations on each of the planets, orbital weapon platforms ringing them, and a moderate defense fleet guarding the system. So far in this war the system had not been touched…despite being within the Delogi Region that the J’gar dominated.
These Ranto’non were not part of their dominion, but one of the V’kit’no’sat worlds sprinkled throughout that had not left or allied with the aquatics when they had split from the empire long ago. Now that they were aligned with the Zak’de’ron and Itaru, this Ranto’non system had been oddly ignored, and many suggested it was because the J’gar fleet was spread throughout the galaxy and didn’t have the surface troops needed to capture worlds. Orbital bombardment was still possible, but far more costly than a ground invasion, yet the Ranto’non did not expect to be ignored forever, and they were playing the long game in preparation for the distant future when they would no longer be ignored and a combined assault fleet from Itaru would show up demanding their surrender.
It had already been requested and denied by the Ranto’non here a few years ago after the Urrtren went down, but they’d rightly called Itaru’s bluff and no assault fleets arrived to carry out their threat. Since then they’d been building frantically with the resources they had available, with no imports or exports flowing, no contact from the other Ranto’non world or the Era’tran that they had always looked up to. At least not until today.
When the courier ship arrived over the planet it insisted it must land and speak with the Ranto’non leaders personally, saying it had word from Jamtren, the Era’tran capitol. It had withstood an assault from Itaru, despite claims to the contrary, and now it was the unofficial capitol of the true empire…but the courier ship would say nothing more until it landed.
The tuning fork-shaped Domjo flew low over the planet and set its bulk down inside a massive spaceport that had been designed to hold even larger ships, but one that was mostly empty. With no interstellar shipping active, the larger transports were not needed and planet to planet transfers could easily be handled by lesser vessels that didn’t require the massive gravity drives for making fast star jumps.
Out of t
he inside of the two prongs a large ramp descended to the surface, with a delegation of Era’tran climbing down in single file to meet the thick-hided quadrupeds who massed slightly more than they did. They met, then walked to a nearby Satu and disappeared into the city for nearly a day before the public was allowed to know what they were here for.
And when it did, the system roared.
Mak’to’ran was alive, having been spirited away from Itaru in a delicate coma to Jamtren, where he had been receiving years of medical treatment to revive him without wiping his mind and returning him to a hatchling. Now that he had fully recovered he had come forth, helping save Jamtren from Itaru’s invasion and striking a deal with Star Force to end this war and turn their full attention to the Hadarak.
But the war wasn’t over until Itaru said so, yet the knowledge that Star Force was finally bringing forth their most powerful weapons sent a shiver down Hamob’s spine. He had seen once before what the Uriti could do, and while it was a pity they did not have it within them to fight the Hadarak, they had no qualms about killing V’kit’no’sat or Zak’de’ron.
The Elder Era’tran watched reports from his seclusion, having escaped Itaru’s destruction to flee from system to system until he had arrived here and the Ranto’non had agreed to shelter and hide him. They were grateful for his counsel, but if it was known that an Era’tran Elder had been assisting them it would have risen their threat profile even further. The safest course of action was for him to disappear, and that’s what he did, right in the backyard of the J’gar while they were off fighting the rest of the galaxy.
The Era’tran delegation had said Star Force was bringing in the Uriti to put an end to the war, not by attacking Itaru’s forces, but by defending against them. If the Zak’de’ron wanted to fight, then the Uriti would oblige them. If Itaru stopped preying on the space lanes and kept to themselves, then the Uriti would leave them alone. It was typical Star Force methodology of always being the defender and not the aggressor, but Hamob wondered how many worlds they would have to destroy before the Zak’de’ron got the necessary message, for he doubted they would relent now after all the blood that had been spilt when the Elder Council had foolishly targeted the dragons after Mak’to’ran’s supposed death.
