Star Force: Fracture (Star Force Universe Book 47) Read online

  Tier 3 Hadarak began at 385 miles wide and ranged all the way up to 829, but they rarely pushed out this far. Normally that was the job of the tier 1s and 2s, but since the new V’kit’no’sat Harthur were killing a fair number of them, Mak’to’ran believed this strike was both a response and test to see how dangerous the V’kit’no’sat now were. Unfortunately the Harthur, despite a heavy research and development budget, could not create a capture sphere for Hadarak larger than 260 miles wide. Attempts at anything larger could see the Hadarak’s tentacles or grapple fields able to damage the structure and free itself, meaning that the larger tier 2s were also uncaptureable.

  This tier 3 was far larger than that, meaning the V’kit’no’sat had to fight it in the only way available to them for millions of years…up close and taking massive casualties. Once the minions were removed they had additional options and could damage the Hadarak from range with impunity, but that’s when the Hadarak would invariably head to the nearest star to avoid them, and this time was no different.

  Mak’to’ran knew they weren’t going to be able to kill it, though he’d summoned reinforcements that were taking considerable time in getting here. But what he’d just bought was time to evacuate more of the far side of the planet. The side where the Hadarak had landed, and now vacated, was completely molten and swamping the nearby crust…which had been pushed up, then fallen back down once the Hadarak left. They were searching for survivors there, but other than a few freak circumstances there was nothing left.

  And along with the massive deaths came the destruction of a huge number of foodstuff production facilities that fed the nearby systems. Now there would have to be a massive redirection in cargo transport from much further away or they’d have to downscale those nearby worlds, for they’d deliberately been built with light infrastructure as a lure to the Hadarak. They’d wanted them to be hit rather than others, so they’d been relying on Stageri for the bulk of their production.

  Did the Hadarak know that? Could they understand the V’kit’no’sat technology to a degree, or was this a random thrust further in that happened to land here? Regardless of how it had happened, this was a massive debacle and all Mak’to’ran could do was salvage as many survivors from the planet as possible…and at the cost of many more onboard the destroyed warships.

  Meanwhile rescues of the crews on the damaged vessels were continuing as the bulk of his fleet held position over the star so they could fire on the Hadarak if and when it began to emerge. Given the sizeable hole they’d punched in it, it would vulnerable for months before even a small patch formed that could allow it to run to another star system. If it tried before then, Mak’to’ran would do a lot more damage as it moved, but he still wouldn’t be able to kill it. It was so big it could lose a quarter of its mass and survive, and even if it didn’t have a Yeg’gor shell it would be hard to destroy that much mass with sustained bombardment.

  But they’d done it many times in the past, and right now the Hadarak was probably growing new minions to screen for it when it left. It wasn’t going to be able to stay in this system, not without getting help, and Mak’to’ran’s fleet had already shot down two couriers it had tried to release.

  He was not going to let it call for help or report back in any fashion. It was going to have to go itself and take more damage along the way, but he did want it to report back. If it just disappeared that could cause more problems than it solved, for if the Hadarak thought that the Harthur could kill a tier 3 of this size, they may just start sending tier 4s. Few had ever been fought, but none had ever been killed. The V’kit’no’sat simply couldn’t mass enough firepower to get the job done, and the Hadarak never stayed put long enough to let them try to any worthwhile degree.

  The V’kit’no’sat needed to kill Hadarak, but if they were provoking even larger ones to come out because of those additional kills…or perhaps the mystery of how they were being killed…that could do more harm than good, for according to the Rit’ko’sor reconnaissance reports there were far more Hadarak deeper into the Core, and there was little hope of thinning their numbers to a useful point. The Hadarak population was a bomb waiting to go off, but Mak’to’ran couldn’t just stand down and let them wreck whatever planets they wanted. He had to fight and kill them, but he feared doing so in greater numbers would only make the situation worse.

  His best hope would be to severely wound this one and have it get away, reporting back to the others that the V’kit’no’sat had no new weapon…or perhaps not whatever it was they were searching for. He didn’t know what that ‘whatever’ was, but they were definitely looking for, or at least patrolling against, something in the galaxy. Something far more important to the Hadarak than the V’kit’no’sat. And if he was accidentally giving them the impression that that something was out here killing some Hadarak, then he needed them to discover otherwise before more heavy assaults like this began to take place.

  So he needed this one to live and get away, which was fortunate, for he knew he couldn’t kill it.

  While his fleet waited and the rescue and evacuation efforts continued at a frantic pace, a courier of their own arrived since the Urrtren relay had been attacked and destroyed by the Hadarak minions. That, he knew, was no accident, for they’d targeted them before. It was speculated that the energies involved somehow registered to them telepathically, but he wasn’t convinced of that. He suspected they knew they were important to the V’kit’no’sat and took them out for at least that reason, if not perhaps knowing even more than they gave them credit for. Regardless, communications with this system were down, so a ship had to be sent to inform Mak’to’ran of addition bad news…which he did not take well.

  Several pieces of equipment on the command deck got destroyed by his short lived temper tantrum, at the end of which he saw similar anger in the eyes of his Era’tran crew…and frightened, cowering looks from the Zen’zat who did not fully understand what was going on.

  “The Oso’lon have been played for fools!” he yelled, but letting his glowing claws burn out while several destroyed consoles continued to seep smoke. “They assured us the empire would be safe while they pursued the conquest of Star Force, but they once again underestimated them. This is no coincidence. These races assaulting our border are not seeing an opportunity to strike and taking it. This is coordinated. The timing is too precise to be otherwise. Star Force has allies we did not know about and they are hitting us where we are weak while the Oso’lon lead a fools quest to conquer an enemy that does not need to be an enemy! Now their arrogance and stupidity are seeing our worlds fall in their absence!”

  “We are fighting our true enemy here,” he continued, rage clear in his voice and telepathy, which he was simulcasting so others nearby in the ship could hear him as well, “while they leave us vulnerable to lesser threats. We cannot leave to cover their folly. You all have a broken planet before you as proof as to why. The Oso’lon gave their word the empire would be safe, now we are engaged in the largest war since the Zak’de’ron purge…all the while the Hadarak are on the move. Am I the only sane V’kit’no’sat left? Can no one else see how we are heading towards self-destruction?”

  “The Era’tran are with you, Mak’to’ran,” another of the crew stated firmly. “You are not alone.”

  “We are not enough,” he told him, while offering a telepathic ping of thanks. “We need the full might of the empire to fight as one, but we are fractured. More than that, we need Star Force’s assistance with the Hadarak. I care not for their heresy when they can be turned into an asset, but the Oso’lon are destroying what leverage we have with them. The long-necked buffoons are obsessed with control and will not relinquish their war, even in the face of this new invasion. Now I have to leave. I have to travel to Itaru and rally whatever loyal V’kit’no’sat remain away from the Oso’lon…all the while the Hadarak are doing this…” he said, bringing up a live view of the formerly round planet that now had a crater in it so large that half of the ring that h
ad not collapsed was still higher than the atmosphere.

  “You will remain here. I will not take a Kafcha away from the true war now. I will go on my own to Itaru, but you must stay here and hold to the purpose of our empire while I try to save it. This will not be resolved quickly, and more sacrifices will need to be made. Our worlds may need to be let fall, for you cannot leave the front. No matter what occurs, you are to stay here, hold the line, do your duty. It is the others that must abandon their war against Star Force and do their duty. If they do not agree with this sentiment, there will be blood split, but you must not get involved. You must stay here until I order otherwise. Do you understand?”

  “You need not take time lecturing us. We will do our duty. Go and do what must be done,” Har’jer said, with the planetary defense commanding Voro’nam having been one of the few lucky ones to be plucked from the dead vessels and brought onboard the Era’tran Kafcha.

  “The ship is yours. Command of the fleet falls to Sar’von,” he said calmly, but the anger was still there as he all but stomped off the command deck en route to a hangar bay to transfer over to the courier ship and have it take him all the way to Itaru.

  Mark-084 was relieved to be freed up from the I’rar’et jamb he’d been in, and was grateful for the minion factories that Morgan and Squiddy had left behind. Right now they were just getting established on the planet with ant-like workers being grown and sent into the field immediately to begin harvesting resources to grow more. In time they’d add fighting units, additional structures, and grow so fast that they made the Paladin expansion rate look slow. Morgan had left a Uriti Wrangler behind to control the minions, as well as a bracelet for Mark as well, though he didn’t intend to stay in Renscor too much longer.

  He couldn’t leave yet, especially if the V’kit’no’sat decided to invade again, but his people also needed a rest and he needed replacement aerial craft and mechs. The I’rar’et had hurt his Clan badly, but most of his people had been recovered. The same wasn’t true for the H’kar and Kiritak, who’d taken far more losses, but the planet and system were still in Star Force possession for the moment, and with the Kiritak on the planet he had no doubt repair work would be occurring at a furious pace.

  Mark wanted to go out and hit another invasion, but logistically he just couldn’t right now. He’d faced this sort of thing before, but with resources having to be spread out everywhere, even as a trailblazer he didn’t get priority over all of it. This might be where he had to dig in a while, and if Morgan had thought it necessary to leave minions behind then that was a bad sign. She was one of the most aggressive of the trailblazers, and using minions was a fallback option for them.

  The minions had their uses, but they were essentially biological machines…and machines couldn’t think. They could only do what they were programmed to do, and if that was a good option then all mechs and aerial crafts would have been built without pilots. Even naval drones needed operators nearby to give them specialized orders, and the few times when communications disruptions occurred their fighting ability dropped precipitously despite the many years of programming refinements that Paul and Roger had made.

  The drones were ‘good robots’ when it came to fighting, but they couldn’t hold a candle to a person who could mentally merge with the computer systems, gaining all their advantages, but being able to think outside the box and adjust to new things that presented themselves. Throw something new at a machine and they were often easy to beat, for they couldn’t adapt to something not in their programming.

  The minions were the same way, for the Chixzon had not wanted them to be able to think on their own like the Hadarak minions could. So they’d created the Uriti to spawn biological machines, not produce people, and those machines are something that Star Force could waste if needed…and when things got sloppy, having disposable units around was almost a necessity.

  But put those units in a populated area and you could see your own people getting killed by friendly fire, because a machine was stupid when it came to such things or was overly hesitant. And if they were hesitant the enemy could use that against them as well.

  But with an Archon Wrangler guiding them most of that would disappear. But still, using them was a sign of desperation, but totally warranted right now on this planet. They needed an army and defensive structures ASAP, for right now they were ripe for another invasion. Morgan and her fleet were gone, so it was just a matter of what the V’kit’no’sat felt was the best next target for them…and the more defenses Mark could get up in a hurry the more those calculations altered to deter another small scale assault.

  But minions or no, even a medium sized attack would overrun Hasvor and deliver the Renscor System into V’kit’no’sat possession.

  4

  August 23, 4914

  Itaru System (V’kit’no’sat capitol)

  Stellar Orbit

  In the past, Mak’to’ran had been greatly honored every time he had cause to visit the V’kit’no’sat capitol system, let alone land on Wendigama, the planetary capitol of the entire empire. It was large, with a gravity of 3.4 that required most of the cities on the surface to have artificial augments, and a surface area 5 times that of Earth with about a fourth of that being 3 oceans. It was the largest planet in the system, at least as far as surface viability was concerned. There were four gas giants far larger, but the V’kit’no’sat did not inhabit them beyond floating mining operations in their thick atmospheres.

  In addition to Wendigama, there were 16 other planets and 183 moons, all of which were heavily inhabited. The system was the crowning jewel of the V’kit’no’sat empire and the damage done during the most recent civil war had all been repaired, leaving it a sight to behold. The traffic alone was staggering, with the moving ships looking like swarms of insects despite the fact each of those ships was miles long.

  Then there was the local traffic that was much smaller, ferrying people and material from planet to planet across the system. Add in orbital infrastructure and free standing stations in their own stellar orbits, and the Itaru System was easily the most advanced and densely populated system in the galaxy with over 128 trillion inhabitants. There were some other systems outside V’kit’no’sat territory that might boast a higher population, but that was only because their races were diminutive in size, so they really didn’t count.

  Mak’to’ran had always viewed it as a symbol of power and stability. Of the dominance of the V’kit’no’sat empire. But ever since he’d taken leadership of it his trips here had been less auspicious, and today he did not want to be here. The fact that they’d forced his return was still angering him after months of travel, and when he landed on Wendigama they were not going to like his arrival.

  He overrode the traffic control requirements, allowing his tiny Kaeper to head across the system and down into Wendigama’s atmosphere without delay as many other ships were sitting in parking orbits waiting for their chance to unload cargo or passengers. Mak’to’ran’s ship, at his order, did not go to a landing field. Instead it went into restricted space above the Elder Conclave but not the main chamber. It hovered over the adjacent facilities that housed the workspace for the members, and Mak’to’ran stepped out of an airlock on the ship and floated down to the rooftop via the emergency anti-gravity in his armor. It wasn’t enough to fly, but it allowed him to avoid damaging falls and in this case dropped him near a roof access port with only a small thud as his two large feet smashed down on the building amidst a sea of Conclave guardians.

  “Step aside,” Mak’to’ran growled as he headed for the entrance, with the mix of races including some Era’tran silently making way for his unorthodox arrival. They followed him inside as he headed for the Oso’lon annex, then they stopped him when he tried to go through the private doors.

  Mak’to’ran glared at them, flashing his claws aglow as a warning, then when the pair of Oso’lon stationed at the doors refused to move aside he lashed out at them with his Jumat, knocking them askew e
nough to slide between them and kick into the front leg of the one on his right, buckling it before he physically rammed the larger quadruped in the side and knocked it to the ground further out into the hall.

  The other Oso’lon fired back with its own Jumat, but Mak’to’ran blocked it with his Nakane and rammed the surprised Oso’lon as well, knocking it to the ground then cut through the door latch with his claws before plowing through it so fast the others had little chance to react…though the rest of the Conclave guardians had no intention of interfering. They were merely observing, for technically Mak’to’ran was the leader of the entire empire, though the Oso’lon had never actually conceded that point.

  “Trebrel!” Mak’to’ran yelled, with his telepathic shout being far louder. “Get your incompetent tail out here now!”

  One of the guards reached out with its Lachka from behind, trying to stop Mak’to’ran from going further, but after a moment of being in the Oso’lon’s vice grip it melted away as Mak’to’ran condescendingly activated his Rentar and didn’t look back.

  The Era’tran marched through the wide open architecture of the Oso’lon ‘embassy’, for lack of a better word, as many Zen’zat and other Oso’lon got out of his way…though the larger race did not go far, with many of them sending evil looks his way as he invaded their private space. They did not seek to bar his path as the Conclave guardians had, both of whom were now trailing behind him at a respectful distance with their long necks rising high above the shorter guards from the other races that had also followed Mak’to’ran into the off-limits sanctuary.

  The Era’tran pounded his way through the Oso’lon compound until the lead Elder representing the Oso’lon on the Council finally appeared before him. He wasn’t the Primearch, nor the handful of other powerful Oso’lon that made up the Teelriem, but he was their mouthpiece to the empire and one in particular who had promised that V’kit’no’sat territory would be safe with the bulk of the fleet sent elsewhere.