by Aer-ki Jyr
Kara nodded. “Alright, I’ll get up to speed. How are you guys playing the invasion?”
“All in. The V’kit’no’sat are going to hit us with everything they’ve got minus the Hadarak fleets and some light patrols. Mak’to’ran said they were not going for the Uriti, so we assume they’re avoiding the big systems and going to hit the small ones and work this in reverse. It’s possible they might end up fighting the Paladin early, but I doubt it. Megan and Thrawn don’t have much out there yet, and the V’kit’no’sat need to hurt us badly and quickly. Mak’to’ran said there’s a timetable they have to meet, though he wouldn’t say what. We got the impression it was fairly long, but they can’t fail this time or they’ll be forced to let us go. That means they have to take out the Paladin eventually.”
Kara bit her lip in a conflicted manner. “If you’ve got me labeled as a Protovic then I should be safe from tracking. What ship will I have?”
“You’ll be with the Paladin. I didn’t think you’d want a normal command ship as a giveaway.”
“I don’t. I can play Paladin even if we have to fight the V’kit’no’sat. I can hide and do this at the same time if there’s no trail out there.”
“There’s a group of Administrators from other races going to help with some of the annexed races that Morgan took under her wing. You’ll tag along and blend in.”
“Good. How soon?”
“A couple months.”
“And you?”
“Getting a new fleet, then it’s off to patrol the Perimeter Zone and break it in, which is now the Devastation Zone and everything else beyond our borders that the V’kit’no’sat will be coming through.”
“You going to hit them first?”
“We’re gonna do everything we can to drag this out, including a lot of mine laying.”
“Slip’n’slide?”
“Everything,” Paul reiterated. “If we don’t, we’re going to get run over.”
“Who’s not coming at us?”
“The Era’tran, J’gar, and Brat’mar are the only major races opting out. The other small ones are following their lead, but most don’t know about the Zak’de’ron. They just don’t want to go up against the Uriti. And the Rit’ko’sor don’t want to fight their kin.”
“I don’t blame them, but I’m surprised.”
“A lot of things are surprising lately. Especially the Zak’de’ron getting a Uriti, and perhaps more if they find them first. The Knights of Quenar are intent on not letting that happen.”
“They can’t be ready to fight. Not yet. It’s too soon…even if they have their own Chixzon now, thanks to me.”
“Yeah, that’s a big problem,” Paul admitted. “But there’s no undoing it.”
“Still happened,” she argued. “You did get rid of the sword, right?”
“Chucked it in a star.”
“Good. How do we stand on drones?”
“A lot more than we’re used to, but not enough. They’ve got an attrition edge on us, but they have to ship their reinforcements a long way. We’re going to ambush what we can, but this is going to get messy even if it goes well for us. I’m still not sure how we’re going to survive this.”
“I’ll do what I can, if you need me on the front lines. No point in hiding if the empire is going to fall and we’re all gonna die anyway. I assume they’re going to kill us, right?”
“Probably. We wouldn’t submit anyways.”
“So they want our civies?”
“Not sure, but one thing they want is living shields against the Uriti.”
Kara sighed. “Of course. They don’t really want us.”
“Mak’to’ran does, and I think he’s leveraging the others to attacking on his terms. Regardless, they shouldn’t be glassing any planets and moving on. They’ll have to take and hold them, which will make this a very different war…but we also can’t attack their current worlds or the races sitting it out will get involved.”
“So we fight on our turf to win the Rim?”
“Basically.”
“And they’ll honor that if we win?”
“If they don’t it’s gonna cause a civil war. Mak’to’ran was clear about that. And they’ve got bigger worries to deal with.”
“Still, their egos…”
“The Zak’de’ron scare the shit out of them. So expect a lot to change.”
“How are we going to deal with them if they find out we snitched on them?”
“I don’t know. But we got 38 races to sit because we shared. Same number of ships, in theory, but I think we’re slightly better off not having to fight the J’gar on waterworlds…not that we have that many.”
“What do you need me to do with the Paladin?”
“Own the place. No resources sent to us, just camp out, build, and kick local ass.”
“I can do that.”
“I know you can…if you haven’t lost your edge.”
“My edge?”
“How much naval training have you been doing?”
“Enough.”
“Where you at?”
“Goku 18…for naval. Commando is off the charts.”
“Cheater.”
“I know,” she said, chagrined. “Some things never change.”
“Let’s find out,” he said, taking a step backwards. “Unless you’re too tired?”
Kara took a half step back as well, dropping a couple inches into a combat stance. “I’m good.”
“Are you now?” Paul said sarcastically, pushing a Jumat blast at her then following up with a dive run while she braced against it…then the two were at it in close range, blocking, dodging, punching, and kicking at such high speeds it was hard to follow, but with their Pefbar and Sav they could think and perceive faster than they could move, making it feel like they were always in slow motion.
They went at it for more than half an hour…before Kara kicked it up a notch and methodically kicked his ass.
10
July 8, 4890
System 289456
Stellar Orbit
Kara and a batch of Administrators arrived in the uninhabited system, one of the many out here that didn’t even have a name, and transferred over from the Calavari Warship-class jumpship to a Paladin one, which was twice as large and carried 6 times as many drones. Neither side had opted to send an unarmed cargo ship, for these areas were rife with piracy and other lawlessness, but no one was going to be stupid enough or fast enough to catch either of these two ships, though the Paladin one was the slower of the pair considering it was fully loaded with drones.
The Calavari one was as well, but its design made it faster when fully loaded, while Thrawn had wanted to rely more on combat power insystem than speed when loaded. It was one of many variations on the same basic design that all Star Force factions used, and Kara noticed that this one had a new paint job. Normally Star Force ships were gray, white, black, or some combination thereof, but a rising trend had the more prominent factions painting their ships. Canderous had been the first, with their sedas always having been a dark green, but now the Paladin had taken on the blue that their bodies now bore…and a bright blue at that.
Kara transferred over via dropship, then walked out into a sea of what used to be lizards, but were now Paladin. Still, after so many battles, Kara’s first instinct was to be on guard and she hadn’t shook that habit yet, but with a light scan of their minds she confirmed they were friends and her bit of unease disappeared as a taller Paladin approached, this one a Viceroy.
He greeted the Administrators and sent them off with handlers while Kara stayed in the back of the hangar bay as the Calavari dropship left, heading back to its mothership that would be leaving the Paladin Zone and her behind, with Megan already having left a month ago on another ship if the time table hadn’t been altered.
“Archon,” the Viceroy greeted respectfully, despite the fact that Kara wore an Administrator’s uniform, so Megan must have told him before she left.
; “Viceroy,” she said, looking up at his 8 foot height and round, muscular head. He outmassed her by at least triple, but even without her Vorch’nas she would have no trouble taking him down and both of them knew it.
“I am Brisco, and I will be your second, relaying orders on your behalf so they do not have to go out in your name. Thrawn has so arranged it that I have authority equal to his, meaning there will be no hindrance to your efforts as we hide your presence.”
“You were born Paladin?”
“I was. Thrawn elevated my status in order to accommodate you. What are your orders?”
“I need information, as recent as possible, to get a feel for what’s going on out here.”
Brisco nodded. “We should go to Vanaat then. It is a nexus for our limited relay grid and closest to our current position.”
“Set course then. I may be new here, but I do not have time to waste. Star Force will come under V’kit’no’sat attack within a few years, and there is a possibility they may even strike the Paladin Zone.”
That came as a shock to the Viceroy…along with the others in the hangar bay that overheard their conversation.
“What of the truce?” he asked, apparently not having been told more than that she was coming to replace the trailblazer.
“Things have changed, and it is about to be violated. We expect them to avoid the Uriti and hit us where we are weak, which may mean they send some ships out here. Even if they don’t, we are not going to assist the others. Our orders are to strengthen the Paladin Zone as much as possible, and if we are attacked, we will receive no support. We’re on our own either way.”
“We are not as weak as you believe, but we are spread out. If the V’kit’no’sat attack in even light numbers, we will have a problem.”
“I doubt we will be a primary target, and if we can draw off ships from the rest of the empire, so much the better. It’s going to get ugly regardless, but if we’re not hit we have to spend our anonymity wisely.”
“But not on sending them additional drones?”
“No. We reinforce ourselves…so if the others have to run, they have a place to run to.”
“I understand,” Brisco said, feeling the importance in those few words to their fullest. “We expect to lose?”
“We will lose systems, but we will be fighting the full power of the V’kit’no’sat minus what they have on the Hadarak front. However, we will not be fighting all the races. 38 have agreed to our terms and have bequeathed us the Rim. The others have not, but the 38 have replaced their fleets on the Hadarak front so we will still be hit with full force…however, if we can hold off long enough, the V’kit’no’sat will leave. This is to be a test, and if we fail, we will be absorbed into their empire. They will not be eradicating our population, but probably our warriors.”
“How long must we survive?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s more a matter of whether we are conquerable or not, and we have to hold our little corner of it.”
“Or die trying.”
“That’s why we build drones,” Kara said with a smirk. “Get the ship moving, then I’ll bring you up to speed on everything else that is going on.”
When Megan got back to the prime territories it felt weird. She’s spent so much time in the Paladin Zone that it was strange to see such developed worlds with so many different races. It was a familiar weird, but it underscored just how much effort she’d put into so few years building up the Paladin and doing the vital, if disgusting, work out in the aftermath of The Nexus’s bull shit failure. It still angered her to this day, but back here, where everything was shiny and new…well, it just felt wrong leaving the people who needed her, but it wouldn’t take long before all this shininess was going to end up turning into rubble.
Which was why she needed to be here.
It took a few more weeks to get to the Raptor homeworld of Turok, which was where the other 99 trailblazers were gathered as they were waiting and planning for what was coming their way. A few of them had already been out to the border areas where the mines were being laid, but they’d all cycled back here so they could brainstorm together without suffering through communications lags of days, if not weeks.
Megan was the last to get here, but the system was already packed with ships. Apparently some of the trailblazers had brought their fleets with them, and at the moment it looked like the Axalon System was the most heavily defended within Star Force, almost comically so.
She knew it wasn’t going to stay that way, and after a few months, or maybe a year at most, they’d be spreading out to implement whatever battle plan they were working on now, but this was going to be a small respite, at least, before the heavy fighting started. Work in the Frontier Region would have to wait, for the resources being spend there on new projects had all been canceled while existing ones were continued. Those extra resources were being routed into drone and mine production, leaving the trailblazers without a lot to do, fighting wise, at the moment.
Megan found the others in a special facility that had been built for the occasion, giving them their own command center on the planet with personal quarters adjacent to each other. They had the place entirely to themselves, making it feel like they were back in basic training again as soon as Megan walked into the place with her personal duffle slung over her shoulder.
Half of the others were busy training in the Sanctum that had been built into the place, while the others were in a massive planning center with holographic maps floating everywhere with smaller tables with two or three trailblazers each working on this or that.
“You’ve been busy,” Megan commented, dropping her duffle on the ground and walking in amongst the others.
“You’re late,” Jason commented, waving her over to a table where a quartet of 2s were working.
“Sorry,” she said, glancing at the regional map they had before them, but it was focused beyond the Devastation Zone on the anti-spinward side. “Where we at?”
“Planning some surprises,” Paul answered, “but we’re screwed. There are too many ways to get to us and we have no firm border. They can hit where they like, so we’re guessing how they’ll approach. Feel free to chime in.”
“What’s this BS about them not hitting our strongest worlds?”
“We think they’re finally taking us seriously,” Ivan said. “They’re not going to smoke us, they’re going to take our worlds and hold them…”
“Using our own people as shields against Uriti bombardment,” Kip finished.
“Mak’to’ran pretty much said it’s a game,” Jason continued. “If we win, we get to own the Rim while they worry about the Zak’de’ron threat. If we lose, we’re absorbed and they add what strength they can from us.”
“Over my rotting corpse,” Megan declared.
“They’re sending their full strength,” Paul warned. “We’re in a mess here.”
“Then let’s start digging our way out. Show me what you’ve got so far…”
Tranxen flew through the interior of the Zak’de’ron hive, bypassing a few others as they coordinated telepathically so they didn’t run into each other while moving at high speeds, for while they could fly slow they preferred not to, especially when confined to the mobile city and not able to truly stretch their wings in a planetary atmosphere.
Tranxen eventually landed on one of the floating islands connected to the others via long strands that the land dwelling servant races traveled on, but there were few here due to the location. It was Zeno’dor’s personal residence, and only a few highly placed servants were allowed in the spherical construct that Tranxen landed on in an equatorial gap several times his height.
He walked from that large, broad, overhung platform into a series of internal hallways where a few Bo’ja were roaming about and moving out of his way quickly. There were a few other Zak’de’ron here as well, but when he got to Zeno’dor he was alone on an upper terrace laying on an interface pad that allowed him to connect directly to the h
ive’s information systems without using his telepathy.
“We have recovered the Orange strain,” he reported. “We followed the Knights of Quenar and were able to recover 3 individuals before they were inoculated. They are here now, in stasis.”
“Progress then,” Zeno’dor noted.
“Not enough,” Tranxen warned, curling his tail around his legs as he sat on a nearby cushioned pedestal. “We have two of the eight strains, and every new colony of Protovic that we find has already been inoculated. We were lucky to track them to this one.”
“Luck or not, we now have it, and that is all that matters.”
“I do not believe we will be able to find all the others. Not in time.”
“The Chixzon spread them across the galaxy in such a fashion that they clearly expected to lose most of them. There will be pockets the Knights of Quenar have not found yet. We must identify them first, not rely on following them there.”
“We don’t have the scouts for that. Not unless we have some idea of where to look.”
“No dispersion pattern has yet been identified.”
“Then we must have more help.”
“We cannot. If we give search parameters to our servant races, it will identify them to the V’kit’no’sat or Star Force and their allies. We cannot risk that.”
“Then I fear we will fail to gather all 8 strands. What progress has been made with Bulmuthal?”
“Minimal. It will be centuries before we are able to fully awaken the beast. We need the control mechanism.”
“I do not see how we get it. The Knights of Quenar have had too large a head start on us. All visible populations have been inoculated, and there isn’t a trace of the original coding left. The Star Force Chixzon did his work well.”
“Yet you have a found another. I am not seeking guarantees, Tranxen. I am looking for results. There are others out there, and we must pursue them regardless of the outcome.”
“And we will, but I fear we will not be able to find all 8. At most we will find duplicates. We know where there is a complete set. We may need to claim it.”