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Eraā€™tran, who had once led the new Vā€™kitā€™noā€™sat, succumbed to the power of reborn Itaru, who else could effectively resist them with everyone hoarding what ships they had to defend their worlds or strike at those Zakā€™deā€™ron ones that were vulnerable in order to exact what little revenge they could here and now before the end finally came.

Or perhaps others felt that victory was still possible. Marioā€™topa did not know, but the numbers running back to embrace Itaru were an ongoing insult to all the Eraā€™tran and Makā€™toā€™ran had sought to build. He didnā€™t know what the Eraā€™tran leadership was doing now, for he was out of the loop and stationed on planetary guard duty. It was a worthy task, but one far lower than he once held. If the Eraā€™tran were to survive, Holloi had to stand. Even if the rest of the system fell, Holloi had to remain. Without it, the Eraā€™tran would become outcasts again, and Marioā€™topa would not live to see that happen.

For without the Eraā€™tran, the real Vā€™kitā€™noā€™sat were lost. It would take millennia for Itaru to reconquer and absorb them all, perhaps longer, but it would be inevitable. And if this newborn triumvirate was true to form, they would not allow any former Vā€™kitā€™noā€™sat world to remain independent. All would be reabsorbed or destroyed. Psionics were too powerful to be let loose into the galaxy, and what leniency Makā€™toā€™ran had given to the Rim was now being undone. Itaru didnā€™t stand a chance against Star Force, but anyone else with Vā€™kitā€™noā€™sat legacy was going to be on Itaruā€™s target list, and it seemed they thought they had the strength to start with the biggest and most heavily defended system left in the empire.

One way or another, this was going to be a hell of a fight. But the timing was horrible. The Eraā€™tran needed more time to rebuild, and that was exactly what Itaru was intent on preventing them from having. Marioā€™topaā€™s beneficiary race had become a rival to the Zakā€™deā€™ron, Osoā€™lon, and Jā€™gar, and it seemed they had no intention of sharing their restored power with the Eraā€™tran. They would either retake their place as a subservient race or die free.

The call had already been sent out for all nearby Eraā€™tran and allied ships willing to assist in the defense of Jamtren to rally here, but Marioā€™topa knew there wouldnā€™t be many that could come, for there werenā€™t many left in the galaxy, let alone in the surrounding region. The Vā€™kitā€™noā€™sat were gutted, the Zakā€™deā€™ron and Itaru were gutted. There werenā€™t many warfleets left in the galaxy to fight with other than scraps and the few new ships coming out of the shipyards to be staffed with inferior crews, though those crews were highly sought positions. If one was going to die in this war theyā€™d much prefer to do so in combat rather than survive to be captured and enthralled to Itaru, so the volunteer lines for military service were flush. Available ships were the main problem, though the shipyards here were working overtime to pump out replacements as fast as possible.

That left Jamtren with a small, but comparatively large fleet to supplement the planetary defenses. And if they pulled back inside the planetary shields as Marioā€™topa suspected they would, Itaruā€™s forces would have to bleed themselves dry to get at them. Which left the Zenā€™zat both dreading the coming fight and curious to see what the enemy would bring to the Eraā€™tran. If they had underestimated them, then maybe theyā€™d have a chance of holding and embarrassing Itaru early into their new reignā€¦but Marioā€™topaā€™s gut told him otherwise. They were going to drop the hammerā€¦for they had to. If they were leaving the Urrtren up for the rest of the empire to see, they had to win and win big to intimidate others into submission in order to scare them back into line before the Hadarak killed them all.

Jamtren had run out of time, and in a few weeks the fighting would start. Until then everyone would have a time of peaceful dread to consider their fate and how to face it. Though he could do little as a Zenā€™zat, Marioā€™topa would do his duty and fight to defend Holloi until the end, and try to stretch out that end as far as possible.

If the planetary shield held in most locations, Itaruā€™s forces would be constrained to surface fighting and the multitude of forests on the planet would give him and the other Zenā€™zat better cover than urban fighting. If they could eliminate the enemyā€™s largest weapons, they could make this fight an even affairā€¦and giving the Eraā€™tran and even fight was equivalent to a flag of surrender. They became inspired when victory was palpable, almost as much as the Hjarā€™at, which was why neither race could be allowed to prosper. They would only grow stronger and rally the more timid races to their side, but Holloi was not a place for the timid, and its 2.3g environment would take a toll on the invading forces if the fight could be pushed beyond the fleet and into the personal fighting that everyone on the planet would prefer over orbital bombardment.

He knew that was how it was going to go down, for even if Itaru had scrounged up enough ships to put a hole in the planetary shields they would not waste what they had bombarding the others and exchanging unnecessary fire with the surface batteries. Once they had their breach they would pour Zakā€™deā€™ron servants down onto the planet to die taking ground while their masters watched from afar, for no Zakā€™deā€™ron had been observed in personal combat since the start of the war. However few of them were left were keeping safely anonymous while their loyal troops died en mass to obtain their objectives.

Though he didnā€™t wish a larger fight, he hoped the Osoā€™lon would be sending troops of their own.

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