Maty by Aer-ki Jyr (big screen ebook reader .TXT) 📗

during the first war against them when the V’kit’no’sat decided to backstab their founders and all but annihilated them. That was before Rajamal was born, but the fact of that taint allowed his mind to give a bit of clemency to the Zak’de’ron on the condition they never return. And with that small epiphany he was able to let his vengeance against them be satisfied with their banishment from what was once their dominion.

But the other two…the Oso’lon and J’gar…had no such clemency. They deserved the fate that was going to come to them, and Star Force had ironically already drawn from them the isolated good within their ranks. All that remained, or nearly all, would be the rotten filth that had destroyed their own loyal Zen’zat in order to appease the Zak’de’ron after most had fled them to join Mak’to’ran’s ranks.

Those that had stayed did so because of their loyalty was greater than their wisdom…and their payment for that had been summary execution. The thought of that now still burned within Rajamal, who had once been equally loyal to the Rit’ko’sor…only to turn against them when they rebelled against the V’kit’no’sat because it was his duty to do so. Part of him still regretted that decision, and he had a private admiration for the Zen’zat who stayed with their assigned race regardless of circumstances.

And that is why their betrayal was extra scathing for him.

But now he had an opportunity to avenge them and wipe the galaxy clean of their betrayers. Not easily. Not even partially guaranteed. But a chance. A real chance, yet one that only a legendary feat could accomplish.

Rajamal’s legend had grown over the millennia of his life, and while his lack of service now appeared to make him a warrior without a war trying to relive his glory days, the truth was quite the opposite. His skills and strength were now greater than ever before, while it was his spirit that had suffered. This new revelation had changed that in a moment, and now the greatest challenge in his life was now before him…and he had the story of Mak’to’ran to learn from, for he was going to need to do much the same as that legendary rebel Era’tran did to build up a coalition capable of destroying the Primearch and the Didact…and if he managed to obtain even a portion of Zak’de’ron technology that he could implement in the field, that would be the game changer.

But right now the biggest thing he needed was a battle. A big battle to show the non-Star Force galaxy that the rebels were here and were not going away…as well as the fact that the Zak’de’ron would not intervene to stop them.

And for that he already had the necessary forces. All that was required was selecting a target…and hoping that Theodral’s information wasn’t flawed in some unfathomable way. He didn’t believe it was, but the rebel cells had been hiding for a reason, and if he called most of them together for a massive invasion that would last months if not years, then the Zak’de’ron would have the opportunity to move in and crush them.

But if they no longer had their servant races, and were truly on their way out of the galaxy, why would they care what happened to the Oso’lon and J’gar?

7

July 22, 154959

System 9923011 (Hadarak-Occupied Territory)

Contested Jumppoint, Low Stellar Orbit

Mak’to’ran stumbled as he left the De’shor’nak, barely able to stand after 18 hours of combat. His participation wasn’t needed every moment of it, but he had refused to leave and transfer control to one of the backup Era’tran standing by so long as he had the strength to continue, and fortunately the battle was won before that was necessary.

His personal Essence was low…very low. He’d expended much of it, and even the infusion of reserve amounts into his body was not taking like it normally would. He had to convert the new Essence to match his personal parameters, and that ability in him was near to burnt out after manipulating the NIM throughout the battle.

He hadn’t seen much of the latter combat, focusing through the fatigue on only his part in it, but what remained of the Hadarak had finally broken apart into small groups and were scattered around the system trying to draw the V’kit’no’sat forces apart from their primary weapon…but his people were too smart to fall for that bait. Right now they were in sole command of the jumpline to the PanNari location, and no more Hadarak were moving through it at present.

Mak’to’ran didn’t know the status of his ships. Many had to be damaged if not destroyed, but the bulk of his fleet was intact…he knew that much…but the rest was beyond him now as all he could manage to do was barely walk away from his duty post as the doors parted for him and one of his relief finally took his place on standby, for there currently was no ongoing combat.

The Elder Era’tran moved slowly, but did not require anyone’s assistance as he made his way through the ship to his personal quarters and onto a plush disc several meters thick, falling sideways with his tail and feet hanging off it, but he didn’t care. He needed rest in a way he could not fully articulate, and as soon as he hit the padded bedding he went motionless as his mind finally disconnected from his body. He reviewed what he knew of his performance and that of the fleet, with the biggest item in his limited consciousness was the time.

They would be jumping out to the PanNari soon rather than staying here and blockading only one of many avenues of reinforcements. And the jump to the neighboring system would take 1.6 days.

Mak’to’ran had that long to recover, for as massively epic as this battle had been…the greatest to