Gateways Read online

  Galaxies on the other sides couldn’t reach here. There were far too many stars in between, let alone nebula that would be a quick death sentence if one ran into them at intergalactic speeds. That meant only the Gateways on the edge were accessible, and if a galaxy did not contain any such supermassive black holes, then the only way to get there was to go very, very slow and have very good engines. Something that most races could not achieve, including Star Force and the Hadarak. Mak’to’ran’s new empire still had a lot of growing to do, but amongst the Socani of this galaxy, they were clearly the dominant power, and even the Jedein, who were capable of forging new races of Socani at will, recognized Star Force’s position and had agreed to create none without their consent.

  Likewise the Jedein recognized the Veloqueen’s dominance over the Megaloids, and provided an additional bond between the two natural factions. Mak’to’ran didn’t completely trust them or the Veloqueen, nor did he consider them fully lightside, but both of their observed natures appeared compatible with it, which was why this alliance was holding and growing stronger with time.

  Personally he would have preferred Star Force to single handedly dominate this galaxy, but living here amongst the Monsters he had come to realize the futility of that ignorant desire. Some places Socani simply could not go, and the dark circle in the sky was one of them…yet inside it were many Essence lights when he traveled close enough to look. An entire civilization of Megaloids from numerous races coexisting in that gravitational ‘mud’ so large and restrictive that neighbors would never find one another down there unless they had Essence abilities or a few other exotic means of navigating that bizarre world.

  That was a place Star Force could not conquer, nor did they need to. Some Monsters needed to be out of reach until they showed up on your doorstep, otherwise the guardians would get bored in their dominance.

  But here, at one of the few Gateways in the Milky Way massive enough to allow travel to more than the few satellite galaxies around its immediate perimeter, Mak’to’ran could never become complacent. For he never knew what would be coming through that metaphorical door that he stood guard over along with legions of the most elite V’kit’no’sat ready to battle whatever Monsters showed up looking for trouble.

  And today was going to be one of those days.

  2

  Mak’to’ran was still outside getting some air when the armor band around his head received the alert. New arrivals had come in, of a previously unknown ship design, and had immediately began attacking everything in sight. They were technological, not Megaloids in armor like the Veloqueen, who were already responding to the threat, but their arrival spacing was tight and they were pouring in at random points in sector 8, probably originating from either the Rolo or Sweet Tart galaxies, though there were other options if they came from further away or the closer smaller galaxies that had never seen any activity at this Gateway since the V’kit’no’sat had arrived.

  The Era’tran turned around and immediately started running back along the trails as he called a drop pod to his moving location. It arrived a few minutes later, hovering over the jungle trees with its landing ramp deployed given there was nowhere to set down. Mak’to’ran leapt up to it, using a lot of muscle in the high gravity environment just to move around normally, and having to use a heavy dose of Essence to get the necessary height.

  As soon as he landed on the ramp he felt lighter in the artificial gravity as he walked inside and the spherical ground to orbit transport sealed up and began racing upward through the atmosphere to the large wedge-shaped ship sitting in low orbit along with a fleet of Kafcha, most of whom were already breaking their parking orbits and heading out toward the distant combat. It would take a few hours to get there at maximum speed, but the biggest ship was waiting for Mak’to’ran to board.

  On the trip up he got upgrades on his headpiece, missing the rest of his normal combat armor that he rarely wore on planet. He’d don the full version once onboard, but for now the battlemap interlink in the headpiece was enough to keep him connected with the incoming information, much of which was being transmitted via telepathy given the signal disruptions near the black hole. Telepathic energy was not affected, and technological transmitters helped to skip information across the system near it rather than having to bounce around the perimeter with increasingly annoying time delays.

  Mak’to’ran didn’t have any Xaviers in the V’kit’no’sat yet, though several candidates were in training. If he had, he could get instantaneous updates of limited information across the system from ship to ship, but so far only a handful were actually deployed in the galaxy as the training required was tedious even by Star Force standards. As for the location of the Praxium that was responsible for their development, not even he knew where it was, for the powers of the Saiolum that Star Force was just beginning to delve into were their secret weapon, and no one else in the system even knew they existed.

  The rest of Star Force and the galaxy was the same, with knowledge limited to a handful of individuals, but when the time came for additional recruits Mak’to’ran had been informed to help choose them, as well as being made aware that very advanced individuals could even communicate in real time across galaxies.

  That seemed absurd, for as vast as this system was, the distance between galaxies made it appear insignificant…yet he was already having to deal with large time lags in the data coming in to him through the battle map, with the first brief analysis of weapons data intriguing him.

  The new arrivals were using physical attachments to their targets to transmit an unstable energy conduit that did not destroy the destination node, but did obliterate their targets. The output was larger than a Tar’vem’jic, but only when emitting from what appeared to be their larger control ships. Smaller versions were using similar weapons, and while they may have been effective against the Megaloids they were mercilessly hunting down to clear their arrival point, it wasn’t going to be the same against V’kit’no’sat shields or Veloqueen technology…let alone their Essence.

  Mak’to’ran boarded his flagship, the DinoThunder, just as he began receiving data on the Veloqueen rising from the darkness of the black hole to engage the new arrivals. They were each small, only a few miles long, but in addition to their massive Essence wells and skillsets, each was covered with armor of their own invention. Their empire in their home galaxy had been crafted out of technology, with many Socani in their employ and enhanced by that technology. Few Megaloids had the ability to craft such things, but the telekinesis the Veloqueen possessed had allowed them to rework the world around them, and they had developed technological augments that made Mak’to’ran wary of ever engaging them in battle.

  The first few encounters with the new arrivals went as expected, with the Veloqueen tearing through them and their weapon nodes that would fly as independent ships until attaching to their targets. The Veloqueen were actually smaller than the largest of the nodes, and so nimble there was no chance of them latching on, but it was unclear of whether or not they could attach to energy shields, for the Veloqueen were covered in them as well, emitted from their armor.

  Mak’to’ran got the DinoThunder under way as he saw the Veloqueen take down their first big target, ripping through it with ease as the number of the invaders began to increase. Their spacing was very, very close for such a long journey. Abnormally so.

  With the Megaloids in the area scattering to get out of the combat zone, and the Veloqueen covering them more than fighting the invaders, the first V’kit’no’sat ships arrived in sector 8 from one of the other planets in the system, getting there 43 minutes ahead of the fleet that had been stationed around Zatria. Mak’to’ran couldn’t give them orders at this distance…at least none that would arrive in time to matter. He had to trust they knew what they were doing, and for the most part the engagements were clear kills, but eventually a Kafcha got tagged by a node, followed by a massive discharge that blew through their shields in one shot…but only scratch
ed the armor beneath.

  The node itself took some fire from nearby turrets, but Mak’to’ran immediately saw the tactical advantage of such a latching maneuver…for it got within the firing range of most of the ship’s weaponry and allowed it to survive longer than expected. But the V’kit’no’sat typically hunted in packs, and the nearby second Kafcha that diverted to assist burned the node off the ship before a second discharge could be channeled through it.

  Whoever this enemy was, their ships were not well protected. It appeared they were counting on the power of their weapons to dispatch enemies before their weaker shields and armor could be exploited, but the V’kit’no’sat were not so easy to dominate, and soon the first line of ships engaging them were shredded by the myriad of weapons the Kafcha carried, and none were using the limited Essence Materia they carried.

  Because this enemy simply wasn’t strong enough to require them.

  However, there was a great deal of them arriving and no way of knowing how many more were coming, so Mak’to’ran set up a standard ‘welcome’ formation and knocked them down as they came in while ordering a few ships to be captured rather than destroyed, then dragged back near the black hole and around to the far side where they were out of the way of the intergalactic jumplines…

  Iren’tar was an Era’tran Hakja stationed in Gateway #12, otherwise known as the Zechronia Muen System. There weren’t many here, given that their expertise was personal combat and Gateway duties were almost always naval affairs, but when ships needed boarded it was up to the Zen’zat to do so, unless they were large enough to hold an Era’tran, and when they were the Hakja were sent in first.

  These newly arrived enemies were large ones, according to the visuals of shattered ships and the cross sections of their visible interiors. The bodies free floating in space indicated Hjar’at-sized quadrupeds covered in hair and armor, but when Iren’tar pushed through the temporary airlock his drop pod had covered the bore hole it had just made in the captive warship with, he immediately came under fire from three of the hairy individuals.

  His armor’s shields held up well as he charged out ahead of the Zen’zat that would follow behind his tail, head butting one of the opponents as he twisted and rotated his tail around to slap another before firing stun blasts from the gauntlets on his smaller arms as his armor scanned the new opponents automatically and updated him to its findings on the battlemap.

  The Hakja’s mind was Sav-enhanced and able to do more than one thing at once, even in hand to tail combat, and he immediately recognized that these opponents were not wearing armor…they were in fact cyborgs, and he adjusted his weaponry accordingly.

  His stun cannons altered into technological disruptors, and after physically bashing their personal shields down he rendered the three inactive without landing any serious blows. The Era’tran left them to the Zen’zat for containment as he moved off through the ship searching for more targets and gradually working through the entire crew single-handedly, finding them far less capable in personal combat than their warships were in the naval variant.

  Rounding them up into holding pens was the hardest part, for the Zen’zat could not easily move them on their own and his own Lachka had its limits, so he prioritized the Zen’zat to keep them sedated in their current positions as he personally chose one and put his foot on its chest, looking down into its mole-like eyes as he peered inside telepathically…but he found nothing but technological buzz.

  That was also typical of cyborgs, for the biological tended to mirror the technological in rhythm, but Iren’tar stuck with it and eventually began to make sense out of the snippets he could identify.

  They were hunters who roamed the galaxies, traveling Core to Core and harvesting the Megaloids for their own uses. Trophies for some. Biological components for others. But primarily they were interested in drawing out rare minerals from their bodies that their technology was based on. Minerals that could be harvested from stars, but the far quicker route was to kill those who had already accumulated them in their bodies.

  Their entire civilization was based around this hunting, as they were nomadic and never possessed planets. Their primary ships were not here yet. Only the skirmishers. The other ones…

  “Mak’to’ran,” Iren’tar said, sending a message out through the battlemap but knowing it wouldn’t arrive quickly enough to get a live response. “These are only the first wave. Larger ships carrying their population will arrive later, after heavier warships arrive to clean up whatever the skirmishers can’t handle. They do not possess Essence, but have suicide vessels to take down superior opponents with neutron rendering cascades. I advise you adjust shielding accordingly…”

  Mak’to’ran stayed in the danger zone with his fleet for days, intercepting the incoming ships and destroying them with such regularity that he was hoping they would respond to the transmissions being sent on their own frequencies in their own language, but none responded or relented. Not a single Kafcha had been destroyed, and since they were not using drones they did not have an attrition rate issue…only one of power and ammunition, with convoys coming out from Zatria carrying replacement fuels and canisters of exotic particles that were mixed with some of the energy weapons.

  That meant Mak’to’ran could stay here almost indefinitely as long as his supply planets kept producing and shipping out what they needed, and in truth he was more worried about being rammed by one of the Megaloids still coming in on this sector, for they often came very close to the black hole before fully braking. Three near misses had already occurred with his fleet, but he couldn’t abandon this position without leaving the arriving Megaloids to be killed by the new arrivals who went by the name Psodos…though they wouldn’t respond to it.

  Mak’to’ran kept waiting for their more advanced warships to show up, but they didn’t arrive for 3 more weeks only to find that their entire fleet that had come through up until that point was destroyed save for a few ships Mak’to’ran had preserved. He immediately sent out transmissions to the new warships, which were not only larger but far more elongated, looking like sharks with a tapered nose, but the only response he got was a very long range energy beam that slammed into the DinoThunder’s shields.

  And it hit hard…far harder than it should have at that extreme range, drawing the first inkling of respect from Mak’to’ran, for up until this point the Psodos had been unimpressive. The V’kit’no’sat leader responded with a standard Tar’vem’jic of his own, hitting the lead warship in the nose and holding there for a few seconds before burning through and eviscerating half the ship.

  “All offense, no defense,” Mak’to’ran growled, annoyed at the audacity of this race. It was typical of many hunters who never expected to become the hunted. But coming from an empire who was designed to hunt and kill Hadarak Wardens at great cost of blood and metal, building weak ships was not an option, and he found these ‘hunters’ did not deserve the title. They were butchers and carnivores, with no nobility to their designs or tactics. The Psodos expected to win, and did not know how to adjust to an enemy that was superior to them other than to ram them with explosives.

  The aforementioned suicide ships came from behind the heavy warships, racing towards the nearest Kafcha and got burnt down before they could reach any of them…but Mak’to’ran deliberately let one get through to the DinoThunder to let his flagship take the hit and see what they could do, sensing the 13 mile long weapons package was manned by a fairly large crew that instantly died when it rammed the shields of his ship and detonated forward in a cone, directing most of the blast into the V’kit’no’sat ship.

  To its credit his ship’s shields were momentarily breached, but the DinoThunder was not designed with heavy shields, and relied more on its armor to fight the Hadarak. The Kafcha were better shielded, having been designed for a more ubiquitous mission profile, but the explosive package barely chipped off 9% of the DinoThunder’s armor plating at the impact point, and that was only a small spot on its hull.
<
br />   To be fair, that was a massive weapon impact that would have destroy almost any other race’s ship…but the V’kit’no’sat were not any other race, and the Psodos were wholly outmatched if they didn’t have anything better to work with despite their numbers, which were hard to keep contained if they chose to run…but none of them did. They all stood their ground and fought, and died, expecting those that followed them to win.

  Perhaps part of the trouble was they kept dying before they could learn, for if they weren’t passing data on to the incoming ships, those arriving would know nothing and keep making the same mistakes.

  Mak’to’ran decided to keep one of the larger warships intact, disabling it then boarding it himself after seeing what little threat they posed. He went in with two other Hakja and an army of Zen’zat, eventually isolating the commander and pinning it in place rather than rendering him unconscious.

  “Do you wish to die?” Mak’to’ran asked in the Psodos language, using his armor to translate as he kept his food on the cyborg’s chest. “I do not want to kill you, but your people refuse to stop attacking.”

  “The hunt must go on,” the Psodos said, triggering his self-destruct programming that immediately sabotaged his heart and killed him.

  Mak’to’ran roared down at him angrily, then snaked his armor from his foot down into the Psodos’ body, with the Kich’a’kat tendrils reaching inside and immediately sampling his genetic code, learning from it, and using the designs to make repairs to his biological components. They could do nothing for the technological, but soon his body came back to life and Mak’to’ran kept the tendrils within him to block any further sabotage.

  “You will die by my claws or not at all,” he declared. “We have destroyed most of your ships that have arrived in this galaxy, and captured the others. You cannot defeat us. So I ask you, do you wish your entire race to die upon entry to this galaxy? We are offering you a chance to live. Why have none of you responded?”