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  “We…do not…negotiate,” it said, not sure what to do now that it could not terminate itself.

  “Is eradication preferable to negotiation?” Mak’to’ran pressed, with his voice and his foot, putting more pressure on the lumpen and obviously untrained body beneath it. “The hunt will not go on if you are all destroyed. I am told your people travel with you, following the warships. Who will protect them if all your warships are destroyed?”

  “We live to hunt, and we die in the hunt. There is no retreat. No surrender. No negotiation. Kill me or release me. I will not serve you,” it said more defiantly.

  “Sleep fool,” Mak’to’ran said, using the Kich’a’kat in his armor to render the Psodos unconscious.

  Some enemies were not people, he knew. Time, place, and circumstance often offered the greater challenges, and in this one he did not want to be responsible for wiping out this entire race due to their own arrogance and stupidity. The challenge before him was how to conquer them in a way that they still survived afterward…and he did not have the resources in this system to annex them or transport them to a location where others could handle the task.

  But then again, they were cyborgs. So perhaps a software approach would be more effective…

  3

  April 2, 158397

  Zykres Nebula (Shoveini Kingdom)

  Eta Fermi Temple

  Jasmyn-T-34921 entered the cargo portal in the Temple where Plausious had sent word from, exiting her long journey through the Essence realm without issue. It was underground and fully functioning, as were the robotic units moving about through others portals. There was no visible damage, and the atmosphere was normal, but as she peeled back her nanite helmet armor and let her head tails flap behind her freely, she realized there was a lot more activity in the portals around her…and the one she had just came through spat out a cargo sled a few seconds later, which bumped into her and shoved her to the ground as it hovered over her and moved on to an exit shaft that led upwards.

  More were coming out of dozens of portals, with a few seeing lines going out. Most of the units were the version known as ‘puddle jumpers,’ but others were of longer and thinner designs that were not typically seen in the Temples. They were reserved for use on the shadow network, and must have been summoned here due to the lack of units as the network raced to deliver new materials to the Temple in far greater numbers than usual.

  Jasmyn rolled out from under the next puddle jumper coming through and danced around the traffic, intending to head out through the artificial catacombs, but then changed her mind and hopped on the back of one of the passing craft and rode it to the vertical shaft, intending to see where it led.

  Up she went, and fast, as the craft elevated through a shaft that came to a shield after less than a minute. Jasmyn snapped her helmet back on, with the nanite material surging up from her collar and covering her head before she passed through the blue field harmlessly…but as she expected the other side had a toxic atmosphere a third the pressure it should have been.

  When the puddle jumper got to its destination she could see why. It came into a large warehouse, still underground, but with a section of its roof busted in with a cascade of black soot having fallen inside the size of a small mountain. The craft were all moving around it and stacking supplies in the free spaces as she saw a few small units collecting and carrying away the larger pieces of charred material as the hole in the roof remained black beyond the interior lights.

  Jasmyn flew up through it, leaving the busy Caretaker units behind, and passed through more than a mile of melted levels in what she guessed had been a surface access conduit. When hit above it had been breached, with the resulting destruction moving down far below ground into the catacombs.

  When the Maverick eventually reached the surface everything was dark. The sun was gone, and there were no stars…not that there had been before. The shell of the Temple had always blocked them out, but now there was nothing to be seen except a few fireflies of light in the distance.

  Jasymn used her armor’s zoom function and tried to get some visuals on the distant lights, finding they were Caretakers moving about doing what she didn’t know, but there was no point in trying to see in the dark, and her Pefbar only went so far, right now registering dunes everywhere made of the charred material so fine it was closer to silt.

  There was no wind, at least not now, and no thermal signatures to stir it up. Jasmyn summoned up her Essence and her bioplasma, then shot a streak of it up high above her head, capping it a few hundred meters away, and pooling it there as she enhanced the burn and twisted it into more light production than heat, creating a miniature sun of her own that spread an orange/red light out across a barren landscape.

  Everything was black, and everything was dunes. There was no rubble to be seen. No bedrock. No ships or buildings. Everything was char, but at least the air was clear…though the oxygen was mostly gone, combined into the char that was lightly spilling down into the vertical passage behind her as she walked ankle deep through the very sterile destruction, towing her light high above her and occasionally adding some additional plasma to it.

  “So the story is true,” she said to herself, not sensing or detecting any ships above her or around the curvature of the Temple as far as her armor could scan. “They really nuked the whole thing. Including the Vargemma,” she said, realizing that some of the black sand was probably from their bodies.

  “What a waste,” she said, turning on her transponder at maximum gain and sending out a location ping. The message the surviving Star Force personnel had carried back said that Plausious had survived inside one of their strongest warships, and that the giant portals capable of moving it had been destroyed. So it had to be here somewhere, and with everything in the Temple destroyed she had line of sight to every single square inch of it now. And with no energy activity of any type, even a small transmitter like hers would reach to the far side and be able to be detected by the advanced Neofan sensors…assuming they were looking, which they might not be.

  She decided to give it a try, otherwise she’d have to hack into the Temple systems and try to send a message that way. Jasmyn hadn’t brought many snacks in her armored backpack, and it looked like there were no Caretaker units on the surface waiting to supply her with whatever she required. All of those were undoubtedly destroyed in the blast wave, and it was unlikely the Temple would rebuild those before restarting the artificial star.

  But Jasmyn didn’t have to wait long, for a return ping came only minutes later from an object she couldn’t scan, but one that was transmitting from a fast moving position to her left. When it did get in range she saw it was a giant sphere, and one of their Gjardan warships, which made her wonder if her portal activity hadn’t been automatically rerouted to where Plausious wanted it.

  The Trinx waited until it came to a stop overhead, barely two miles up and moving the dunes with wind as it shoved the thin atmosphere around, then a hatch opened up and she was directed into it, forgoing a craft to pick her up as she elected to just fly there.

  When she entered the well-lit hangar she let go of her glowing orb outside, letting it puff into a fireworks display before going out entirely, then she landed gently on the deck in the thicker air in the ship as several Neofan gathered around her.

  “The Reignor sends his greetings,” one of them said with a slight bow. “But he is not onboard this ship. We are indebted to you, Nuv’ernor.”

  “For what? I haven’t done anything yet,” she scoffed, peeling back her armor into two forearm gauntlets and revealing loose black robes beneath that encased her legs, making them look twice their size, as she wore a tight fitting tank top with a backpack carrying her supplies.

  “House Atriark has no Nuv’ernor. Only the leading House does, and that is Mutavi. Your power is legend, and will give us a significant advantage once you are trained.”

  “I’m already trained.”

  One of the other Neofan shook his head dis
missively. “Star Force knows little about the potential of Nuv’ernor. We have been instructed to share with you all our techniques in exchange for your assistance in the coming battles.”

  “All of them?” she said, raising an eye ridge.

  “Yes. Though there are none here who possess the higher tier ones, for we do not have the power output. But we can show you the more basic ones in person, and you can learn from our databanks the others, given time. It will not be a quick process.”

  “I didn’t expect it would be, given that you’re marooned here. How long before you get a primary portal rebuilt?”

  “One is partially complete now. Do we have permission to relocate to one of your Temples?”

  “Director Davis has granted you that, and in exchange we will be sending a team here to oversee the rebuilding of this one…with a few redesigns. But for the moment I’m here alone. Where is the Reignor?”

  “He is not in his ship. He is somewhere below ground, and moves around without our knowledge. He had done so since the beginning, and is working on things we are not privy to. We were ordered to collect you if and when you arrived.”

  “Alright, consider me collected. Now what?”

  “We will leave a message in the Temple systems for him, informing of your arrival. He will come to you.”

  “And while we wait?”

  “You may do what you wish.”

  “Alright. First thing I want to see is the battle records of what happened here. All of it that you have. I want to see what caused this, and what led up to it.”

  The first Neofan took a step to the side and gestured behind him. “This way, Nuv’ernor.”

  “The name is Jasmyn,” she said, walking up to and beside the much larger biped. “When did you learn our language? You weren’t one of mine.”

  “We have all been instructed to learn it, in our solitude here, in preparation for what is to come.”

  “And what’s to come?”

  “An alliance that gives you possession of all Temples as their caretakers, and within them we will strike back at the false Reignor and his zealots, ridding you of the annoyance.”

  “And after that?”

  “House Mutavi will eventually come. By then we must have consolidated and rebuilt our own House in preparation. The Reignor has foreseen our doom if we do not act swiftly. All Neofan will be purged from the galaxy in one form or another if we do not.”

  “That’s the word on the street,” Jasmyn said as they entered a large hallway, even by Star Force standards. “All kinds of bad guys are going to start showing up to take a poke at us. Just make sure you guys pick the right side.”

  “That decision has already been made. We will fight alongside Star Force, no matter what the outcome. To do anything less will insure our destruction. Only together do we have a hope of survival.”

  “And why didn’t the zealots accept this?”

  “There is a sickness in them that the Reignor is slowly purging from us. A sickness that he too once had, until your Director began the purge in him, and his exile on the Hadarak world completed it. The lightside is hard for us to understand, but we have been shown the way and we will dutifully follow it until we come to that understanding.”

  “Zealots of another breed then.”

  “Loyalists,” the Neofan corrected. “We trust in Plausious.”

  “Who you already noted was previously sick. Was your trust in him then well deserved?”

  “He saved us from the destruction of our home galaxy. Many other Neofan were left behind, but he arranged for us all to be evacuated here. He has said our culture is the sickness, and that he has to craft a new one before we will be free of it, and that will take time. It is something he is also working on now, as we wait.”

  “Is that also why he wanted me here?”

  “He did not say so, but you are a warrior of a lightside empire. And from observation we may come to an understanding of that which we have been grafted.”

  “Grafted?”

  “It is one form of learning for Neofan. The Reignor has given us a piece of himself, overwritten onto us. We can see what he saw, though we do not fully understand it.”

  “Interesting. I wasn’t aware you could do a mind meld. How many other abilities have you hidden from us?”

  “I cannot answer without knowing that which you already know.”

  “Fair point,” she said, letting it slide. “I hope you have material replication the same as the Temple?”

  “We do.”

  “Good. Because I need some foodstuffs copied,” she said, pointing to her backpack, “before I eat them all. Mavericks have a high metabolism and have to eat regularly.”

  “How often is regularly?”

  “Every few hours,” she said, seeing his surprise. “How often do you eat?”

  “Every few days. We will make available what you need on your schedule. Our food synthesis mechanisms are fully operable.”

  “What isn’t fully operable?”

  “Part of our offensive capability was destroyed, and our Essence reserves are nearly depleted. With no Vargemma here to refill them, we cannot enter combat again. And until our repairs are completed in another Temple, we will not engage the false Reignor’s ships. We have one chance to strike, and we must not fail. They do not know what has happened here, and when we inform them, we must rally all those still faintly loyal to our fight. If we show weakness, those wavering will not join us. To do so futilely would mean their execution.”

  “They have to have someone to turn to that can protect them,” Jasmyn summarized.

  “Indeed. Otherwise they will be identified and purged. That was not in our previous culture. Where this new sickness comes from we do not know, but it was spreading everywhere, and the false Reignor does nothing to stop it. And the Diem supports it.”

  “When a civilization is built on lies, it will inevitably fall. It is just a matter of time. The power of the lightside is also the power of the truth, and those other civilizations that exist on lies must destroy the truth, else it will destroy them. That is one reason why the darkside is drawn to the light. Our mere presence destabilizes it.”

  “Is that why they turned on Plausious?”

  “I do not know the inner workings of your House, nor do I want to, but it seems pretty obvious that once he learned of the lightside he had to be removed. Sounds like some of your bedrock lies were in jeopardy of being disintegrated, intentionally or unintentionally.”

  “What happens when a civilization built on lies falls?”

  “The truth shows itself in one form or another. Insanity is not stable, and inevitably destroys itself…and those around it. You witnessed that here first hand. The silence that remains speaks no lies.”

  “It is reset through annihilation,” the Neofan said in a moment of understanding.

  “Indeed. What is your name?”

  “Bmu.”

  “Well then, Bmu, learn from what happened here and do the same within your own mind. Take down everything, assume nothing, and start over with what small pieces of truth you can find, and lean on those to sustain you. Follow Plausious if he is truthful, but not if he lies. Let your loyalty be to the truth rather than to him. If your faith in him is legitimate, then there will be no conflict. But do not blindly follow anyone. That, in a way, is a type of lie.”

  “I do not know how to function without my loyalty.”

  “Make your loyalty to the truth. Shift it rather than destroying it. Make your civilization earn your support, rather than expecting it of you. Only a firm foundation will see you through what is coming. Loyalty without that foundation will fail, eventually. When immense pressure is placed upon you, even a small crack will see you fall. You must be perfect, and then, and only then, can you weather the storm. Search for cracks and eliminate them within yourself. That is how you first strengthen your civilization. You are a pillar within it, and you must become flawless in order to support the weight thrust upon you.”<
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  “Wise words from one so young,” Bmu said appreciatively. “I will heed them.”

  “Good. Now what do you guys have around here in way of training equipment…”

  4

  December 12, 158399

  Toyland System (Vinshen Kingdom)

  Terapye

  Darren Greoni rode in a dropship alone, confined to the cargo hold and unable to speak to the pilots. He wore nothing but a basic uniform with survival jacket, plus a backpack with supplies as he watched the snowy surface pass by underneath on a datapad as they traveled across a mountain range. There was some rock showing, and a lot of green trees popping up through the snow, but he could see nothing of the ground itself, and that worried him.

  His clothing wasn’t made for this environment, except for the jacket, and that wouldn’t do anything for his legs and thin casual shoes. His socks would get soaked trudging through the snow, and the cold was not going to relent if the ground was solid white. That meant it rarely got above freezing here, and soon he was going to be dropped off into this environment on his own.

  It was the first time, actually, that he had been alone. At least beyond some short training exercises. He’d always had his family with him before…the other 99 offspring of Greg-073 and Oni-081 that Darren had spent the last 31 years with in a special maturia, though to be honest he didn’t know what a normal one was. He knew a lot about the rest of Star Force, but had never been able to see it. Not in person, anyway. He’d been told that in other maturias, when you graduated you got to choose your path and people would stop telling you what to do, but not him. He was a Furyan, and the offspring of the military leaders of Star Force. He’d met his parents only twice during his life, for a few weeks at a time, but now they were off fighting the Hadarak War, though where he didn’t know. There was a lot he wasn’t allowed to know, and when he asked why he always got the same answer.