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

date in his long life…he expected far more ahead. The Hadarak were insanely committed to this system, and as Mak’to’ran drifted off into quiet rest he wondered what could be so important to them to warrant this level of response…

The Era’tran woke on his own accord. No alarm or summons brought him out of his sleep, but rather his bladder. Apparently he had rested enough for it to assert dominance over his need for further recovery, and Mak’to’ran blinked his exposed left eye open thrice as his other lay smashed into the bedding.

He hadn’t moved a muscle since arriving, and a quick mental link to the telepathic node in his quarters confirmed the time and the ship’s position.

They were nearing the end of their jump, with an ETA of just under 3 hours.

Mak’to’ran moved…finding it extremely painful without possessing any injuries. He peeled himself out of the cavity within the pads, having to use his tail for leverage to get his hips up, then his giant head came last. He stumbled momentarily, but not from fatigue. Rather the stiffness from such a long, unnatural sleep. Normally he would adjust position every hour or so, and not doing so now had aching consequences.

His Essence was still low, but he wasn’t feeling burnt like before. He walked over to a nearby pedestal that served as a table and telekinetically flew a jeweled bracelet to his right wrist, whereupon contact he infused himself with stored Essence and found it assimilated with ease, gradually restoring his natural levels to full after a few minutes of acclimation.

As that occurred he went to the anterior compartment and relieved himself in the shield river that ran through a narrow chamber up to his knees. His excess biomatter dropped into the river and stuck there, being pulled along to the far side as the staticy river cleaned any skin exposed to it.

The Zen’zat used seats to relieve themselves, but the biology of the V’kit’no’sat was considerably different, and as such they were built to release material from their normal standing position, as were most quadrupeds and angled bipeds. Why the tiny Zen’zat were not had always puzzled him, for few races in the galaxy had such a limitation.

Nevertheless, each race had their own accommodations onboard the DinoThunder, and once Mak’to’ran finished relieving himself he raised the level of the translucent energy field up to his neck, keeping it out of his eyes or it would dry and chaff them. When needed he would close them and dip his neck down into the flow, and only a few times were necessary to remove the light amount of grime he had on him.

Once fully cleaned he left his chambers and went for a short, painful run to loosen himself up before eating and then heading up to the command deck to witness their arrival in the system. He would not be able to operate the primary weapon again this soon without a deleterious effect, so this time he was going to be able to direct the fighting…assuming the PanNari were still alive to be assisted. If not, his fleet would have to leave if facing the kind of enemy numbers he feared were ahead.

“My respect, Hakja,” Junobu said as Mak’to’ran walked onto the command deck and exchanged places with his senior commander. “I did not think you had that kind of strength in you. You did not relinquish the De’shor’nak once during combat?”

“I was not going to until my strength failed me, and I was close to it by the end. What did we lose?”

“No ships were lost, but 21% of our remote craft were destroyed or too damaged to remain in combat. Their salvage was recovered before we jumped, and the recyclers are working to reprocess as much as we can with haste.”

“Essence levels?”

“82% remain. That battle was the fiercest I have ever witnessed, in person or on record.”

“I did not see as much as I would have liked, but I concur. What lies ahead will be worse, I fear.”

“The Hadarak have never hit a single Grand Border system with this might. Have they been holding back?”

“That thought occurred to me during the battle, but I did not have time to analyze.”

“I have been going over the records since we left. Never have we seen this density before.”

“The Grand Border is widespread,” Mak’to’ran commented. “Perhaps they seek to weaken it to destruction more than a single penetration?”

“If the objective is to get through it, that is not the most prudent course.”

“Then what is their objective?”

“A question I do not have the answer for. If I were in their position and intent on destroying all opposition, I would penetrate the border and eliminate the supply lines feeding it. Facing us at our strongest with our reinforcements untouched is the most inefficient method of combat I can imagine.”

“No. There is one more inefficient.”

Junobu frowned, then caught on. “The Grand Border was seen as comical in theory, but is now the very thing that keeps us all alive. Efficient it is not, I agree. But it is effective.”

“Perhaps they are testing how effective.”

“You suggest they play with us for knowledge rather than go for the kill?”

“Is that not what they have done to us the entire existence of the V’kit’no’sat?” Mak’to’ran challenged.

The other Era’tran growled. “You state the obvious that I have forgot. I barely remember our time before Star Force.”

“You did not live as much of it as I did, but I too have grown accustomed to the new order. I like the superiority of it, but I do not forget the past.”

“Then perhaps they have never fought us at full strength…but why pull reinforcements from other galaxies for a partial effort?”

“Not partial, but perhaps targeted in a way we do not yet understand. It is clear that this PanNari