Death Mark Page 3

  “I have access,” one of the Zen’zat said, bringing up navigational control.

  “Ease us off. If the Domjo reacts, run,” he said, getting on his comm and using J’gar frequencies that even rookies were sure to pick up on the intracomm.

  “J’gar crew, your ship is now in Zen’zat possession. We can deal with you in one of two ways. Option One is we take on the lengthy process of killing you one by one, either through poison, exposure, or combat. Out of a sense of efficiency and respect for what your race once was, I am offering Option Two where you head to the hangar bay and cram all of you into the three drop pods there. You can be picked up by the other J’gar ships when we leave. We came for the ship, not to kill you. I suggest you take advantage of my generosity while it lasts. We will leave the pathways to the hangar bay un-iced.”

  Rajamal left it at that. Letting them go made tactical sense, but a small part of him did not like fighting other V’kit’no’sat races, no matter what they had done. It felt like a violation of his oath of service, but what he was doing now was 100% necessary. He hadn’t created this division, yet he was forced to deal with it, as were all Zen’zat. There was no longer a righteous path to follow. The Elder Council had destroyed it after Mak’to’ran’s death when they foolishly started this war.

  Rajamal would never have served the Zak’de’ron, though some Zen’zat had chosen to when the independent J’gar and Oso’lon had absolved them. Rajamal had fought during the original Zak’de’ron war and knew they were not to be trusted, in any sense. Those Zen’zat who had given them their misplaced loyalty were now dead, executed by those that they had faithfully returned to. How the J’gar and Oso’lon could abide by this slaughter he did not understand, but then again they had not been the advocates for creating the Zen’zat. That had been the Era’tran, a mid-level race that had risen to peerdom due to Mak’to’ran’s ascent. And at least they were holding true to that allegiance, though for how long Rajamal did not know.

  Right now he would only trust Zen’zat, and as he saw reports of the J’gar slowly making their way towards the hangar bay he was getting injury reports from the rest of his team.

  12 were dead, 9 of which were recoverable. Meaning this mission had cost him 3 more Zen’zat…all of which were rookies.

  Rajamal couldn’t protect them. He couldn’t protect the Ter’nat worlds that spawned them. He couldn’t even protect himself. The best he could do was make sure he and his brothers and sisters died well, and as their newly captured Ti’mat drifted away from the badly damaged Domjo without so much as a comm inquiry as to why, Rajamal knew this ship…properly repaired…would add to the Zen’zat’s kill power far more than those three Zen’zat would have contributed if they had lived. That meant they had died well.

  The legendary Zen’zat waited until all the J’gar had boarded the three drop pods in the hangar, then made them wait longer until he opened the exterior doors and allowed them to leave. He could have shot them in space and killed them, denying the enemy some more troops, but he would not do so. Their acquiescence may have spared him additional losses, and it most certainly saved him time and additional ship damage. Letting them go was a small price to pay in exchange, though some of his Zen’zat were not happy with it. They wanted vengeance in the short term, while Rajamal was fighting to preserve the Zen’zat, their Ter’nat spawning worlds, and the essence of what it was to be Zen’zat.

  The Zak’de’ron were hated because they had no honor, and as was evident in this exchange, respect for one’s opponent could gain you far more than blind bloodshed. These newer Zen’zat had not been alive back when the V’kit’no’sat lived and breathed honor. They had much to learn, and hopefully they would from his example, but Rajamal was not hopeful. Everything was being destroyed, if not directly then through attrition. Using the ships of the enemy in your own fleet would never have happened in the past, but now it was a necessity. And an embarrassing one at that for those Zen’zat old enough to remember a better time.

  Rajamal was far past embarrassment. He would do what was necessary to fight this war, but he would not stop being Zen’zat. If he did the war was already over and a failure.

  By the time the J’gar realized the drop pods had their comms disabled and something was amiss, the Ti’mat was already halfway to its jump point. Rajamal could not help the captured Brat’mar ships, but he could deliver this one to those who could make proper use of it. When they finally made the jump out of the system he did so with a cringe.

  The Zen’zat never liked leaving allies behind, and every time it was necessary it was another cut into his psyche. How far the empire had fallen, and not to the Hadarak or other foreign enemy. This fall was due entirely to internal fractures.

  What the future held Rajamal did not know, but he and the Zen’zat would fight to the end. That, at least, was under their control. Nothing else truly was.

  3

  August 5, 128812

  Numana Yentre System (Midzan Region)

  Dobmu Trenga (Ter’nat colony)

  Ikan-Dovora-522296 jumped to the right just in time to keep from brushing up against one of the wheeled grain transports coming into the city from the grasslands to the north. They made regular convoy runs every three days, slowly spreading out the latest harvest to the numerous food processing facilities here and everywhere else around the half continent of fields, but today the driver was coming a little closer to the walkways than was typical.

  Ikan heard sounds behind him as others were startled as well, but no one was hurt as the long, 5-car snake-like transport rolled on. He thumped the side of the fourth car in disgust, immediately bruising his left hand, but it was worth it. He hoped the driver heard, but that was unlikely with all the noise from the hydrogen combustion engines that powered the transports. If this guy wasn’t more careful then another Ter’nat was going to get smashed like last week.

  But that wasn’t going to be him…at least not this time. He kept walking slowly, taking small steps on his thin frame. At a glance he looked like a Human, but on closer inspection one saw his bones were thinner, and there was no visible muscle on him anywhere. His clothes hung from his limbs obscuring any shape to be found, with only the nursing females having any body distinction. All Ter’nat looked alike, but they didn’t smell alike, and it was their scent that gave away who was male or female, for they had powerful pheromones that were rumored to be removed or dialed back when one was ascended into a Zen’zat.

  It was a matter of speculation whether or not the Humans had them. Ever since word had reached the Ter’nat colonies of the Rimward expansion of the V’kit’no’sat empire led by reproducing Zen’zat people had wondered, for they were not of Zen’zat size. What else had transferred to them, or not transferred was unknown, but they did obviously still maintain some Zen’zat muscle, for they didn’t look like the flat chested and thin framed skeletons that the Ter’nat did unless they were malnourished near death.

  Ikan was nowhere near death, but his 62 pound frame would have suggested as much to a Human. He was 5 foot 8 inches tall and slightly shorter than average for his race, with genetically green hair, silver eyes, and splotchy tan skin. The weather modification shields protected the farming field to the north against fluctuations in stellar radiation, but the crops liked more energy than his skin did, so it tanned up to a brown during the summer along with a lot of freckles, most of which he’d lose during the winter, but some always seemed to persist.

  He didn’t know much about other worlds, for the information allowed to the Ter’nat was limited primarily to this world and whatever basic news there was on the Empire. When there was a major war they’d know about it. When Mak’to’ran came to power that was also explained to them, as was his death and immediate avengement. Some had been told to them of the Humans, but most of what they knew from beyond was of the Zen’zat. Ikan would never reach those ranks. He knew that now. But others would and he didn’t resent them for it. To serve the V’kit’no’sat directly was t
he most highly revered honor for a Ter’nat, but Ikan’s responsibilities lay here, in this colony, where he served the Empire by helping advance Ter’nat skills and resources.

  That had become even more important lately, for he and a few other had been told that assistance from beyond was unlikely, and if pirates, raiders, or other trouble came their way there would be few ships available to help them. The war with the Zak’de’ron was sucking up all available ships and resources, and even this colony was producing excess minerals and metals to be shipped offworld to assist with the war effort.

  But Ikan knew something the other Ter’nat did not, for a Zen’zat had told him personally when they began to arrive here in large numbers. The Zak’de’ron were specifically targeting Ter’nat worlds in order to deny the V’kit’no’sat future Zen’zat, which meant Dobmu Trenga could come under direct attack and they were going to have to do their best to defend themselves if that came to pass.

  Most of the V’kit’no’sat warships on standard patrol here had already left. Only two remained, and both were new arrivals from the Era’tran. Two small ships for their body size, both Ti’mat, and they probably outgunned the entire Ter’nat fleet in the system. Some 1094 warships ranging from half a mile wide to 6 miles. They were manned entirely by Ter’nat and were more than enough to defend the civilian ships and orbital infrastructure against anyone who passed into this system from beyond the Empire…but against V’kit’no’sat ships or the Zak’de’ron equivalent, they didn’t stand a chance.

  The technology allowed to the Ter’nat was better than most people had in the galaxy, and Ikan had never had reason to complain about it, but from what the Zen’zat had told him there wasn’t much they could do to help in a fight against what would most likely be J’gar warships unless they made some upgrades…forbidden upgrades previously, but no longer. The V’kit’no’sat overlords here had sanctioned them, though there were few of them left. Most of the others had left with the patrol ships, but those that had stayed behind were unlocking a lot of previously forbidden information in the hopes of preserving this colony if…or more likely when…it came under attack.

  Ikan didn’t know what that would be like, but he knew his job and that was maintaining the food supply. In the past all Ter’nat colonies could get assistance from the empire if they needed it, but now they were on their own and if he and the other Constublars mismanaged what they had then they’d have to go on rations…or worse. He didn’t want to think about that, but the Overlords had released information on other planets…not V’kit’no’sat ones…and what had happened to them when they were short on food. Ikan could not forget what he had seen, and it scared him more than an invasion.

  In almost every occasion the other races had gone various forms of crazy when there wasn’t enough food for everyone. That insanity made the situation far worse, and people who had been friends and kin began killing each other for the food or other reasons. It was like the lack of food inhibited their ability to think or reason, and they just lashed out at everything they could.

  But a few races did not. They worked together to preserve as many as possible, even as vast chunks of their population died of starvation. If this was to come to pass here, then they had to make the best of it…but it was the Constublars’ responsibility to make sure that was avoided, and there weren’t enough Overlords left to make sure the Ter’nat didn’t screw up. That put a lot of pressure on him and the others, and he wasn’t sure if he was up to the task of handling it.

  More and more people were arriving here, some were Ter’nat from other worlds, but they were being kept elsewhere and not allowed to intermix much. The Overlords probably didn’t want them telling this planet what had happened elsewhere, but it wasn’t just Ter’nat arriving that had to be fed. It was also Zen’zat.

  A lot of Zen’zat.

  They were keeping away as well, for the most part, but some were moving about in sight and attracting the kind of attention they always did. They were giants to the Ter’nat, both in height, weight, and legend. If there was an attack here they’d have to do all the fighting. Ter’nat were no good at it. They rarely even fought each other due to the frailty of their bodies. Ikan’s people didn’t die too easy, but they got beat up quite a bit, even when they didn’t mean to. The bruise on his hand had been deliberate, but often times he picked them up accidentally.

  He couldn’t fight physically, and even with weapons they weren’t going to be a match for the Zak’de’ron troops. That didn’t stop the Ter’nat from having their own, for Zen’zat needed to be groomed from those with experience in the disciplines they would be chosen for, but they wouldn’t be enough to protect the planet. The Overlords had already said as much. Which was why Zen’zat were arriving to give them as much of a chance as possible, with whatever equipment they could salvage from the war zones.

  Already there was a new shield generator covering a piece of the capitol. It had been taken out of a broken enemy warship and repurposed here. Other bits and pieces had been flowing in, most of which Ikan did not know about, but he had just finished a long three day work session with his staff on the plans sent to him for a growth facility. Field growing wasn’t going to be enough production, he was told, to weather the incoming populations and potential damage. They had to start growing crops indoors in special facilities that had multiple levels and closely controlled environments.

  That would allow them to grow year round as well, not having to worry about seasons, wind conditions, insects, or other variables. But to build those growth facilities took time and a lot of resources, and he now had to make it happen in his assigned region. One facility, capable of growing a list of crops that weren’t even present on this world. The Zen’zat needed more nutrients than the Ter’nat did, and to supply them they had to have different plants to produce them.

  But not just that. They had to have factories to use the raw materials to synthesize others. He wasn’t assigned to that project, but this growth facility assignment was more than he could handle at the moment. The technology involved was beyond him, and both he and his team were working round the clock most days to learn what they had to in order to begin building one from local materials.

  Sometimes he wondered whether or not this was some grand test for him to complete before being elevated to a Zen’zat…but the changes happening on the planet testified otherwise, and he knew in his brain that this was not an elevation test. But a test of survival for him and the rest of the Ter’nat here…as well as across the galaxy.

  He could have stayed awake another day or so, but needed a clear head so he’d sent everyone home for at least a 6 hour sleep. Ter’nat usually slept 4 each day, or 6 every two days. Zen’zat required much more due to their heightened metabolism, and being able to work slow, long hours was the one tiny advantage they had over the Zen’zat, if you could call it that. They could stay awake and tend to small tasks, keep watch, and do other monitoring duties, but any heavy work had to be done by machines, and the Ter’nat had armies of them in various forms. But no combat models. They’d never been needed here before.

  Ikan was tired, but not from the walking. His head hurt from too much thinking and staring at plans and statistics and growth profiles, all of which were new to him. He felt like a juvenile all over again, but without the optimism. He wasn’t working to ascend to become a Zen’zat. He was working to avoid losing what this planet already had.

  The Dovora compound was a decent distance off, about a 39 minute walk at his speed, but the effort helped to unknot his head. By the time he arrived at the complex that held his breeding line he felt like the moment he reached his bed he could fall asleep immediately, so he adjusted his comm bracelet to wake him at the desired time before he entered the steepled skyscraper, intent to get back to his assignment no later than the others.

  There was a lot of foot traffic outside, some of which was boarding vehicles to travel to other parts of the city, and Ikan had to wait for the entrance to clear enough
to allow his line in. He hadn’t noticed what time it was, and he’d caught a shift change, for normally there wasn’t this much traffic when he moved to and from the agro command complex.

  As he waited a shadow passed overhead briefly, prompting many of the Ter’nat to look up. When Ikan did he saw an egg-shaped ship momentarily obscuring the sun, but it wasn’t in orbit, rather passing by several miles overhead in atmosphere. The spike of fear at this being the start of the invasion dissipated after a few quick heartbeats, but his initial reaction hadn’t been wrong about it being a J’gar ship.

  He turned his head and approximated its tract, confirming it was headed for the surface yard on the northwest side of the city, and his fear was replaced with a surge of pride. The Zen’zat had stolen another vessel from the enemy, and soon it would be landing in a Ter’nat yard like many others across the planet where a mix of personnel would be repairing it and making it fit for Zen’zat use. When it was finished it would head back out into space and across the stars, continuing the fight far from here. Rescuing other Zen’zat and, when the time came, returning here to help try and save this world.

  Or at the very least evacuate as many Ter’nat out of the system as possible in whatever ships they had that were jump capable before the planet’s surface was incinerated like so many others.

  The Zen’zat were here and coming in ever increasing numbers. But against the J’gar, Oso’lon, and Zak’de’ron, what chance did they really have?

  4

  Four years later…

  Ikan sat on his heels, huddled together with other members of his bloodline in the lowest levels of the Dovora compound as they felt the repetitive thundering of orbital bombardment. Buildings were being destroyed all around them in the city, and the only way they could tell how close was by the strength of the vibrations getting down to them, but it was only a matter of time before theirs was hit and everyone knew it.