To its credit his ship’s shields were momentarily breached, but the DinoThunder was not designed with heavy shields, and relied more on its armor to fight the Hadarak. The Kafcha were better shielded, having been designed for a more ubiquitous mission profile, but the explosive package barely chipped off 9% of the DinoThunder’s armor plating at the impact point, and that was only a small spot on its hull.
To be fair, that was a massive weapon impact that would have destroy almost any other race’s ship…but the V’kit’no’sat were not any other race, and the Psodos were wholly outmatched if they didn’t have anything better to work with despite their numbers, which were hard to keep contained if they chose to run…but none of them did. They all stood their ground and fought, and died, expecting those that followed them to win.
Perhaps part of the trouble was they kept dying before they could learn, for if they weren’t passing data on to the incoming ships, those arriving would know nothing and keep making the same mistakes.
Mak’to’ran decided to keep one of the larger warships intact, disabling it then boarding it himself after seeing what little threat they posed. He went in with two other Hakja and an army of Zen’zat, eventually isolating the commander and pinning it in place rather than rendering him unconscious.
“Do you wish to die?” Mak’to’ran asked in the Psodos language, using his armor to translate as he kept his food on the cyborg’s chest. “I do not want to kill you, but your people refuse to stop attacking.”
“The hunt must go on,” the Psodos said, triggering his self-destruct programming that immediately sabotaged his heart and killed him.
Mak’to’ran roared down at him angrily, then snaked his armor from his foot down into the Psodos’ body, with the Kich’a’kat tendrils reaching inside and immediately sampling his genetic code, learning from it, and using the designs to make repairs to his biological components. They could do nothing for the technological, but soon his body came back to life and Mak’to’ran kept the tendrils within him to block any further sabotage.
“You will die by my claws or not at all,” he declared. “We have destroyed most of your ships that have arrived in this galaxy, and captured the others. You cannot defeat us. So I ask you, do you wish your entire race to die upon entry to this galaxy? We are offering you a chance to live. Why have none of you responded?”
“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
