First Contact Fallout

to voluntarily rejoin, because they do not have the strength to force it. Not in time…” he said, switching to the coreward map to see where the Hadarak invasion was…and as he expected, some worlds were already being chewed up by their advance.
“Are you saying it’s a bluff?”
“Hatred of the Zak’de’ron would keep every V’kit’no’sat race defiant to the death. They do not have the strength to engage in that fight and win. They had not planned to engage us this early. The Hadarak purge forced them to reveal themselves before they were ready. They would not have attacked us if the Elder Council had not been so stupid to start the war. Now they are committed and know they cannot win and rebuild before the Hadarak sweep up half our territory, if at all. The Oso’lon and J’gar are their lifeline. Have all of them changed allegiance?”
“No. Ours have remained loyal, but those are the primary targets for the traitors, and they’re starting with the weaker ones now that we don’t have the defense fleets to rally to their aid.”
“Conquest or destruction?”
“Conquest, though many are dying when they will not submit. I don’t think they want their races divided anymore.”
“I concur. They could not prevent it previously, and they must rebuild the illusion of unity. While others would die fighting against the Zak’de’ron, they are conditioned to submit to the Oso’lon and J’gar. By reuniting with them, the Zak’de’ron hope to intimidate and delude those they cannot quickly defeat in battle. All in the hopes of squashing our resistance soon enough that they can turn their attention to the Hadarak and hold onto a portion of the empire while the rest is destroyed.”
“Will that work?”
“It is their only option. And I intend to see that it does not work. To do that we must stop them here and hold Holloi, and it is fortuitous that the majority of the planetary defenses are still intact. If what’s left of our defenders stop behaving as hatchlings we can hold the planet. That first battle did save it, Mario’topa. But those that remain seem intent to waste the sacrifices made.”
“If you reveal yourself the Zak’de’ron will come. So will the Oso’lon and J’gar. You are a higher target than even Holloi.”
“I know, but remember where we are, little Zen’zat. Remember where we currently stand and who controls it.”
The epiphany struck Mario’topa a moment later.
“And he’s currently missing, presumed dead but not confirmed?”
“Precisely. Bring me the best coder from the techs.”
Mario’topa smiled broadly. “With pleasure, Garuva.”

10
May 19, 128800
Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)
Holloi
Li’nikka was on foot patrol around the small city of Bejdalli when the orders came in, and at first he didn’t believe them. He’d been solo assigned to give this city an Era’tran combat specialist in order to pull together a civil defense unit for when the enemy finally arrived here. Not enough to actually win a fight, but to bleed them of some of their infantry before the pullout happened.
There were over 800 Era’tran in the city with some 360 Zen’zat serving them, none of which were combat trained. Everyone who had been had long since been called off to fight elsewhere, which Li’nikka wanted to be doing, but instead he was stuck here with a bunch of females and techs, none of which had any fighting skills. And out of all of them there were only 3 that had armor, which had come out of heirlooms and was considerably dated, but far better than nothing.
He had 34 in his cobbled together unit and was trying to school them in enough basic principles that they would be able to work together to help support him when the enemy got here using their psionics and the small-arms weapons that thankfully there was still a supply of. Armor was scarce, but add-ons were still available. Just no shield generators. Why more hadn’t been readily made he didn’t know. Perhaps they had prioritized the weapons given the fact that shields couldn’t kill any of the enemy.
But now he was being called away, and he couldn’t believe by who. The orders were coming in from Garuva, whom everyone had thought dead with the rest of the Elders. The chain of command had become so broken that the planetary commander, at least the last he knew, was a mid level warrior only 400,000 years old. He’d ordered them all into defensive positions with the highest priority given to scaling attrition in their favor, but no longer. Garuva had somehow survived and now taken command, and Li’nikka was being called to fight.
He let out a muted roar of excitement and swung around on the trail outside the city and left the grasslands, ducking inside the nearest gate and heading to one of three ships the city possessed. Two were larger transports, but the third was a short range troop transport designed for Era’tran. Similar to the Zen’zat gunships, the Pill’ew could carry four Era’tran along with a contingent of Zen’zat if needed, but they were able to operate without them.
Li’nikka didn’t have any worthwhile to take with him anyway, so when he ran up to and under the cozy craft he mentally triggered the underside doors to swing open, then one of four harnesses lowered and locked onto his armor, hauling him inside suspended above the opening. The doors closed below his hanging feet as the gravity altered and he was left more or less floating with just enough to keep him oriented as he interfaced his armor with the ship and began to fly it remotely.
The Pill’ew lifted up from the city and headed south towards a rendezvous point. Li’nikka didn’t have any further orders than to go there, but after several hours of flying he noticed another Era’tran craft heading in the same general direction, though it was