Maty Aer-ki Jyr (best novel books to read .txt) 📖

increase his abilities. And the same was true of the rest of the Hakja, which he had reformed and personally crafted into the Era’tran’s Essence-equipped specialists.

The other V’kit’no’sat races had their own versions, but the Era’tran’s was the most advanced and largest…yet still dwarfed by the Varkemma. The armies of Essence-trained troops that Reclaimer Cal-com was sending to the Grand Border to assist with the on-planet combat were massive and terrifying in their power, and Mak’to’ran knew they could eviscerate the Era’tran easily if they wished.

Star Force’s power in the Rim had far surpassed the V’kit’no’sat, and in the past that would have burdened Mak’to’ran greatly, but now it did not. The V’kit’no’sat had their designated role to play and Mak’to’ran was proud to bear the weight of the Hadarak surge on their shoulders while the rest of the galaxy used the peace they provided to grow and build. The Rim would be the end of the Hadarak, while the V’kit’no’sat would be moving in behind them and securing strategic locations to make sure ground taken would not be lost again.

And through it all the V’kit’no’sat had their own independent path to follow. A path to greatness if attained, far more than they had currently managed. Essence was such a powerful tool, and the V’kit’no’sat were so new to it that sometimes Mak’to’ran felt like they were children playing in the shadow of the Temple gods, but Greg-073 had let him in on a secret. One that he could not record in any fashion, and it had to do with the trailblazers themselves, most of whom had finally chosen to increase their size to proper Zen’zat standards.

He never understood why they limited the growth of their psionic tissues while refusing to increase their body size, for Zen’zat were designed to be larger than Ter’nat. The errant Human races spawned by the illicit reproduction did not retain the enhanced size, but did retain the psionics. That error had been carried by the Archons through their history until recently, but Mak’to’ran now knew it had come about not through their choosing.

Greg had explained the advancement they had undergone, by what methods they did not know, but there was rumor and myth of it happening elsewhere throughout history. The fact that they were now similar to the Zak’de’ron in some biological respects was immensely curious, as was the assumption that the Neofan knew how to force it using some Essence technique before it would happen naturally, thus speeding up their adaption and advancement to dizzying levels.

That should have made Mak’to’ran feel even more inferior, but Greg explained that the greatest superiority came in the form of the individual of merit, and that everything else was merely equipment, whether it be technological or biological. Star Force was going to exceed the Neofan, if they hadn’t already, and not by forcing upgrades to their race through some mysterious Essence technique. They were better because the people inside their bodies, their Cores, were better. And the better individuals would find a way to win if given a chance.

And that’s what the V’kit’no’sat’s mandate truly was. To give Star Force the time and chance to grow stronger. And in doing so the V’kit’no’sat had the opportunity to grow from the pressure and challenges before them, in Essence and other fashions, but Mak’to’ran could see now more than before how far they had to go. And it was not going to be an easy journey to get there. Yet unlike the past, they had allies and brothers stronger than them that could shield them in their weakness until they had time to catch up, just as the V’kit’no’sat were doing now by holding the Grand Border for them.

Teamwork rather than dominance and suppression of rivals. The V’kit’no’sat had already upgraded greatly from their absorption into the Star Force empire, and Mak’to’ran was a living example of irony, for it was his failure to destroy them in their early years that had opened up this future for his people. And that fact he still found humorous to this day.

The universe did not behave as predicted, and in his recent years he’d drawn a great deal of comfort from that fact. His current situation was better than anything he’d ever dreamed of in Itaru’s days, and when he returned there he would be saying goodbye and good riddance all at once.

Mak’to’ran continued to run, bypassing another pair of Era’tran going the opposite way on the trail who moved to single file to allow him to pass, for the path wasn’t as wide as a Satu, and if you did not time your steps appropriately you would be hit by the tail swing of the other passing you and be knocked into the lake.

But that was a challenge for hatchlings, not experienced Era’tran, and the passby occurred without incident, after which Mak’to’ran felt the need to speed up as he was nearing the halfway point in his circuit around the lake.

He held the increased effort for the better part of half an hour until a flying barge came across the lake in his direction and he received a telepathic contact…for he was wearing no armor or comm gear while he ran, intentionally, to give his mind a chance to disconnect and free think as he did his running.

Mak’to’ran slid to a stop, peeling up several of the small cobblestones with his heels as he sensed the urgency in the other Era’tran. They were not to disturb him unless it was immediately important, and the mental state of the female they had sent to fetch him…one he did not personally know…indicated as such.

The barge slid in a hover near the lake shore but did not cross onto it as the female telekinetically passed a small item to him, then she took the barge back across the lake without another word or thought.

Mak’to’ran held the small box aloft