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The J’gar were aquatic and wouldn’t be fighting on land, but if the Oso’lon came down then maybe he’d have a chance for some personal revenge, for after all that had happened since the rebellion against the Zak’de’ron so long ago, it was beyond the height of treason for these insufferable long necks to rejoin with them and turn their back on the rest of the V’kit’no’sat. Leaving Mak’to’ran’s forces had been bad enough, but joining the most vile’s ranks and destroying Itaru in order to rebuild that which had been destroyed for a reason was insanity.

Did they actually think the Zak’de’ron wouldn’t betray them again after they rebuild their position in the galaxy? How stupid could the Oso’lon be? Or did it no longer matter, and was any port in the Hadarak storm worth fleeing to? Not to mention the threat from beyond the galaxy. Mario’topa didn’t know what their reasoning was and at this point he didn’t care. Any V’kit’no’sat rejoining the Zak’de’ron deserved to die, and he truly hoped he’d get a personal shot at an Oso’lon before he and the others ultimately fell in this insane war.

At least Mak’to’ran’s rimward experiment still lived, and would far into the future. The Hadarak wouldn’t make it there for thousands of years, and maybe by that point Star Force will have developed the strength to actually defend the galaxy on their own. They were the only hope now, for the V’kit’no’sat empire was done, one way or another. Mario’topa and the others were remnants of a formerly glorious past, and that’s how he and the other Zen’zat intended to die.

For if they could not protect Holloi from Itaru, let alone the galaxy, then they’d do it the service of removing as many traitors as they could in Mak’to’ran’s name. Beyond that the future was Star Force’s. Mario’topa’s end would be here, on Holloi, along with the Era’tran he’d sworn to serve long ago. It wasn’t a good end, but it was far preferable to what most Zen’zat in the galaxy were faced with, for Itaru had decreed that while the V’kit’no’sat races could rejoin them, their Zen’zat could not. All would be killed and replaced with the Zak’de’ron’s superior Bo’ja, and there would be no exceptions.

After all the Zen’zat had done loyally serving the V’kit’no’sat during their history, that was the ultimate betrayal by the Zak’de’ron, Oso’lon, and the J’gar. The original V’kit’no’sat had now fully cast them out, and a part of Mario’topa wished he’d gone rimward when he’d been offered the chance, but that was long ago and unobtainable now. Best not to look backward. There was killing to be done in the coming years and he needed to make the most of the opportunity. And whatever preparations could be made in the coming weeks should not be squandered. For once the enemy was here there would be no respite.

Mario’topa studied the scouting reports a bit more, then summoned the Zen’zat units he commanded and began to make preparations with others for an immediate counterattack against the first breach point in the planetary shields…as well as for the defense of the Zor’do facility to which he had been assigned two centuries ago and silently guarded in his isolation. He wouldn’t wait there for the enemy to come to them, but preparations needed to be made in case the Zak’de’ron and their cohorts landed nearby immediately. If not…and he hoped not…maybe the facility would be overlooked for years to come. It would be his personal last line of defense if he didn’t fall prior to it coming under attack, and if he did he needed to make sure those that held the line here were prepared for that fateful day whenever it came to this jungle valley.

2

February 22, 128799

Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

Holloi

Tu’vac walked out onto the open promenade that sat between the ring of buildings in the Zor’do, looking up at the jungle terrain beyond as his mind was elsewhere. The Era’tran had been wounded in the war, he’d been told, for he had no memory of it. He had woken up here 3 days ago, thrashing around inside a medical center restrained by force fields until he came to his senses…but he hadn’t entirely. There was a chunk of his mind that was missing, and he couldn’t help but search for it, so as he looked at the high ravine walls beyond the Zor’do he was really looking inward, and failing over and over again to find whatever it was he was lacking.

Tu’vac didn’t know where he was, but he knew a Zor’do was a healing facility for those a Kich’a’kat could not repair. Typically that meant Core issues rather than bodily hardware, but in his case it had been explained to him that his injury had left him in a coma that was fortuitous. Had he woken, the damage to his brain would have caused the Kich’a’kat he wore to replace the brain cells that held most of his memories with new blank ones. But because of the coma those cells were not being used and thus, while ‘damaged’ they were not malfunctioning so the Kich’a’kat had left them alone.

The missing part of his mind was intentional now, for the healers had locked it down so it would not suffer further damage. He was not wearing a Kich’a’kat, merely a robe with some monitoring equipment built in, and whatever parts of his suppressed mind were trying to be accessed would be the next cells manually revived and repaired. It seemed this was not the first few days since his coma, and that every so often he would have a treatment that would erase his current memories and he’d wake all over again…but with a few more of his old memories and skills recovered.

He’d been told that if all were unlocked now, the parts that had been permanently lost would create