Gateways by Aer-ki Jyr (i like reading TXT) 📗

to fight their way through to get access to various regions and pacify them.

The Spice Lords could become giant factories if they so chose, but finding the right material for food was not so easy. The black hole was not all the same stuff, and most of the Spice Lords’ bodies had to be built inside them through fusion and fission, which was a slow process. Ample energy was there to do it, but getting the right precursors often meant traveling up to the shallows where there were still intact atoms and some basic molecules to harvest.

Regardless of what happened, the Veloqueen would keep this black hole occupied with several thousand of their people at the minimum to act as a peacekeeping operation. Paul though that was extremely small considering how much territory there was down there, but as long as they kept enemies from rising up and fighting the V’kit’no’sat defenders, their job was accomplished. They didn’t have to actually own all of the black hole, just make sure the neighborhood inside it was moderately stable.

And by the same token, the V’kit’no’sat had to secure the neighborhood above and around the black hole, though they would never fully own it. It was like a giant public park that people were coming into and out of constantly, and Mak’to’ran’s job was to make sure none of the picnickers got assassinated and kept any roaming biker gangs from passing through.

But dominion of the space around the black hole was now theirs, as were what was left of the planets and stars orbiting it. There was going to be some rebuilding done here down the line, but for right now Paul and his warfleet was taking a long needed breath before moving on. And as for The Admiral, while he could have kept going indefinitely, he was finding he was more tired than he had allowed himself to notice, but still too close to battle mode to fully rest, so he sat and watched the waves in the black hole as his fleet took turns poaching the jumppoints of incoming Hadarak reinforcements.

This was one more door closed to the extra-galactic Hadarak, and the reinforcements that would keep coming here from beyond would not make it out to assist the others in this galaxy. In the past, with each gateway taken, there was a noticeable effect on the less important systems in Hadarak territory, and it made Clan Kai’sa’s job a little bit easier sweeping up those systems, but the big ones in the Deep Core were still full of them and their growths, and taking them down was going to be a long, hard grind that Paul didn’t look forward to, but was ready and able to throw himself at it as needed, and the same was true with the other trailblazers.

Paul sat for several hours, not wanting to do anything other than let his brain breathe, but his seething solitude was interrupted by a faint ping in the back of his mind. He almost didn’t notice it, and wondered if he had completely missed it in the past during battle, for it was Azoro trying to make contact with him.

The Sha’kier was not here, and hadn’t been at all these 4 years. He was hopping between the now open minds of the cadets at the Praxium as he taught them the ways of the Saiolum while searching Star Force territory for more. Paul had grown powerful enough that a permanent bond was formed between them that stretched the gap of half the galaxy’s width without breaking. Paul didn’t know how much further they could go until it snapped, but it wasn’t Azoro’s strength that was the limiting factor. It was Paul’s, and he knew Azoro could keep a connection with others across galaxies if he wanted, and had done so in the distant past before his race was annihilated.

Paul had to focus to bring that tiny piece of himself to the forefront of his mind, amplify it, and try to think in the simplest words and thoughts possible, for not much information could travel at this distance as the link between them was stretched so thin.

I am here, he answered. This gateway is now taken. I will be leaving soon for other work. Have you tried to contact me before that I was unaware of?

Twice now, but I assumed you were distracted. I am still surprised you can communicate at this range. The cadets do not have your aptitude for learning.

Trouble?

Difficulties, but nothing that is unanticipated. Progress is being made and we grow our numbers gradually. A synthesis is forming amongst them, and it is easing the transition period for new converts. I do not like using this primitive technology, for it is leaving them raw, but I see no other way.

Have you found any more naturals?

Two more. A mere pittance than what there should be in a civilization of this size.

But a luxury nonetheless, Paul reminded him.

Indeed, but still frustrating. I wanted to speak with you about the Nightcrawler’s revelations.

Paul split his attention and linked in to the ship’s database and brought up the appropriate files that he’d only briefly glanced at upon their delivery 5 years ago.

I have not reviewed them thoroughly.

I believe I now know how the Saiolum can be used to kill.

Paul frowned. Explain.

It is what links us to our bodies in a harmony that is natural. I had not believed there was an alternate version, no matter what the Gahana and the Neofan say, and I was not completely wrong. What there is, I have discovered, is a distortion that creates a destructive resonance. I have never tried to create such a thing, and I refuse to do so, but I have found it is occurring naturally everywhere in small amounts. Not enough to overcome the harmony, but it does reduce