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A long time ago in a galaxy far,
far away....
Revulsion.
Panic.
Fear.
My earliest days upon this world had been filled with those very emotions. Emotions that now doubtlessly flowed through the few surviving creatures who gazed upon my bloodied form.
Unlike the disgusting, wide-eyed and fearfully chittering soldiers that now faced me, however, my newborn feelings were to be expected.
Indeed, any child would be naturally inclined to experience the same when they left the safety and comfort of their mother’s womb.
Not to say that mere discomfort had been what fueled my desperate cries almost twenty years ago.
My anguish had been of a different sort, stemming from a feeling of great loss. Of a life unrightfully snuffed out. I had been sorrowful.
How times have changed...
I felt nothing but vindictive glee as I cleaved the defiant vermin commander’s head from his shoulders, indifferently kicking it at the feet of his cowering forces.
“Pathetic,” I spat, as my disdainful gaze swept across my foes’ abhorrent insectoid forms.
“The suffering my people have endured under your tyrannical rule shall be paid back in full, bugs.”
An especially bold individual charged toward me as a hackneyed attempt at retribution. My slug thrower made short work of him.
“Listen well, insects! Let it be known that your repugnant existence shall be tolerated no longer. We will never bow our heads, and we will never submit to the likes of you.”
I eyed my fellow fighters, inclining my head in affirmation as they readied their weaponry.
“My name is Qymaen jai Sheelal. I pray you remember it, for it is the last thing you will ever hear.”
The rounded up Yam’rii joined their deceased brethren moments later.
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In the past, my family had deemed me a coward.
Weeks after my birth had been filled with nigh continuous wailing. For the longest time, my own underdeveloped brain had been utterly incapable of deciphering the cause of my distress.
Thankfully the disparate thoughts that had been plaguing my mind eventually culminated into a momentous realization.
My family… no, my entire people were not as they should have been. That instinctual connection I should have felt toward them was absent.
My mind screamed in panic every time one of these strange, monstrous creatures stumbled into view.
Digitigrade, bipedal humanoids with hardened red skin, large pointed ears and tusks extending out of their jaws, paired with slitted yellow eyes would terrify any human when they first saw it, and was the reason I’d wailed so much shortly after my birth.
Only, I had was of even my own appearance.
It was not as it once had been. As it should have been.
For my soul hailed from an entirely different world.
I used to be a biomechanical engineer of quite some renown; Not that it was worth much in my current situation, or even back then to be frank.
A military coup by a disgruntled head of state had quickly flipped my peaceful life on its head, turning my accrued knowledge and technical skill into useless pieces of trivia as the infrastructure required to support it crumbled to dust.
All my life experience had been proven utterly inconsequential as I arrived at my untimely demise.
No matter.
Many years had since passed, and my memories and attachments had largely faded as I grew more accustomed to my newfound existence. Still, I would never forget how helpless I felt at my death.
This second life would be different, even if only by virtue of circumstance.
I was born on the planet Kalee, a member of the aptly - and perhaps uncreatively - named Kaleesh species. A warrior people; Prideful and powerful in equal measure. At least when compared to my previous life’s feeble human form.
As the eldest and only son of Koravus sai Sheelal, the Warlord of Cerebar, I was predestined to take up his mantle of leadership when I came of age. A perilous task, even when disregarding that my homeworld was plagued by petty squabbles and territorial disputes.
This world, no, galaxy was far grander than my original one; Rich in history, species and civilizations spread across the stars.
Disappointingly, beyond announcing their existence, the greater galactic community had a fairly strict non-interference policy until a given world’s inhabitants successfully developed their own lightspeed engine.
Since our culture was obnoxiously isolationist and lacked any semblance of enthusiasm toward technological advancement, I feared that any dreams of interstellar adventure would remain just as such.
The cosmos, however, had other plans.
Shortly after my eighth birthday, the Yam’rii, an insectoid race from planet Huk, had developed their own lightspeed engine and proceeded to attack and colonize many of their neighboring worlds.
My old memories paired with what rumors I could glean held enough information on colonialism to recognize it was only a matter of time before the Yam’rii would expand their efforts and target Kaleesh. If I wanted this life to last any longer than my last, there was no choice but to learn some decent self defense. I immediately sought out my father to hasten my introduction warrior's training.
With my mother having died in childbirth and the other wives busy with their own children, nobody stopped him from wholeheartedly supporting my enthusiam. I was thrust into a torturous regimen of daily physical and mental exercises that only rose in intensity as time went on.
Father had clearly been intent on expanding his territory, forging me into a weapon to spearhead his ambitions once I became of age.
While my remaining human sensibilities considered his actions disagreeable, and perhaps downright abusive, my kaleeshian drive merely relished in the opportunity. In fact, I seemed to have a natural knack for the art of war, even without my metaphysical advantages.
Noting this aptitude, my father decided to hasten his plans for domination and sent me on my first errand at the ripe age of 14. A battle which - surprising even myself - I won in without issue. Many more followed the first and our territory grew day by day.
I eventually came to be hailed as a prodigy and, if whispered rumors were to be believed, a man capable of perhaps finally uniting our disparate populace under a single rule.
If only those insectoid pests had kept their hunger for resources in check just a decade more.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
The Yam’rii staged a second wave of invasions a mere 10 years after their first, and Kalee was their prime target.
Even all my preparation and attempted unification had not been enough to protect us. The technological gap was simply too large to breach, and the planet’s territories fell one by one. The lucky inhabitants were enslaved. The less fortunate - like my family - bombed into smithereens.
I had been fortunate enough to be touring the countryside when the initial wave hit. With such a paltry number of forces, however, I was forced to accept the bonds of slavery… for a time.
The loss of my family had ignited a flame deep within me that would not cease until I successfully drove that scum from my homeworld, no matter how long it took.
And it just so happened that our invaders had imported a great deal of advanced weapon technology.
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-- 981 ARR --
Be one with your surroundings. Embrace serenity. Find peace.
Those words echoed in my mind over and over again.
I had taken up meditation at the dawn of my warring career before the Yam’rii invasion. A life filled with so much bloodshed warranted I purge my mind of negative emotions every now and then, lest I end up a raving lunatic consumed by his anger.
Besides the obvious benefits of relaxing my mind, meditative rituals had also been said to aid our greatest warriors in forging connections to the spirits of our ancestors. Though I had not succeeded thus far, I could not discount the possibility of success.
Reincarnation tended to alter one’s views on religion.
“Be with me…”
My ear twitched as I heard someone rustle past my abode’s entrance.
“General, a warrior has requested to speak with you. They are without escort and do not bear any tribal markings I recognize,” rasped Kailel, one of my trusted guards.
I huffed in annoyance at having my ritual interrupted, but restrained any further show of emotion.
“Let them in.”
Kailel stepped to the side and the stranger entered. They were covered in battle-worn armor and I noted two well-maintained lig swords at their side. Though she wore a customary mask, her sex was clear.
“A female? How peculiar.”
Not that women could not be warriors - an 5:1 gender ratio prevented such exclusion - but it was rare for one to be travelling alone.
“I should say the same to you. To show your face to an outsider without a hint of shame is quite odd.”
“I vastly prefer speaking face to face,” I smirkingly said. “Now please, tell me whatever it is you wish to impart.”
The woman derisively shook her head, but voiced no complaint as she took a seat on the cushion across from me.
“You were not there,” she simply stated.
“Pardon?”
“The dream,” she continued, as if it explained anything, “I saw you. In the Kunbal Jungle.”
“And?”
She took off her mask, revealing a surprisingly youthful face.
“You were not there.”
“How astute,” I chided, “As you may know, dreams do not always reflect reality.”
She unsheathed one of her blades and threateningly raised it to my neck. My hand instinctively clenched around her wrist. A sharp twist later her blade was mine.
“You wear his face, but you are not the true Qymaen,” she audaciously declared, ignorant of her position.
“Bold of you to call me an imposter, girl,” I growled, rising up to my full height and dragging her up with me. “Speak your piece! You are testing my patience.”
Following my statement, I tossed her to the ground. After quickly dusting herself off, she rose right back to my level to angrily glare into my eyes.
If she had not been nearly a head smaller than me, I might even have felt threatened.
“I am Ronderu lij Kummar, descendant of our ancient gods. My visions foretold of our meeting in the jungle, yet you failed to make an appearance. I, too, do not take lightly to getting my time wasted. Your failure to arrive at our predestined meeting was most dissatisfactory.”
To call it an outrageous claim would be an understatement. My mask of neutrality cracked as unbridled laughter burst forth from my chest.
“Of all attempts to court me in the past, this is certainly the strangest.”
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“I am not here to court you! I am here to test you.”
“Test me?” I questioned, still chuckling.
Her hand rested on the hilt of her second blade.
“I am here to test whether you deserve my fealty. So far, I am doubtful.”
“Ah, so it is a duel you want,” I concluded, “Tell me, why should I entertain the whims of such an ill-mannered brat?”
“Because you would regret your dismissal for the rest of your life!” she bit back without hesitation.
It was hard to believe, but her confidence made me laugh even harder than before.
“Shall I escort this delinquent out of the camp?” Kailel questioned from outside my tent flap.
“No need. I will deal with this insolent slime myself:”
Ten minutes later, Ronderu and I found ourselves in the middle of the camp’s sparring ring. A swath of onlookers surrounded us, eager to see how the self-proclaimed demi-goddess would fare against their general.
The ring itself was nothing special; Merely a circle drawn around a patch of sandy ground. Still, it suited our needs well enough.
Noting that the influx of people had slowed, I lifted her confiscated sword to the sky to grab everyone’s attention. The crowd went silent.
“We shall fight until one side is either no longer able to continue, or surrenders,” I announced for both her and the audience, “I will not be holding back on account of your safety, so do try and survive.”
She chuckled darkly, “You are entirely too confident for someone who wishes to duel me using a.. no my own sword.”
“Hmph, I merely wished to even the playing field, goddess. It would not be much fun otherwise.”
She growled in annoyance, but I’d been privy far more intimidating sights. Without further ado, I flicked my sword to the side as the signal to commence.
Without a second’s hesitation, Runderu rushed straight toward me. Her incoming strike looked deceptively clumsy, but her expert footwork quickly gave away her ploy.
I casually stepped to the side and dodged both the overhead swing and the kick at my legs, slicing my own blade down at her midriff.
Not missing a beat, she slid along the sandy ground, leaning backwards to keep her torso out of my sword’s reach.
I expected no less from someone who dared challenge me. Unlucky for her, I was just getting started.
Giving her no time to recover, I advanced with a rapid flurry of slashes, all of which she flawlessly parried.
She's certainly capable. Perhaps her prideful proclamations were of some merit.
Nevertheless, there was a clear gap in our abilities. Every single day of the past 11 years had been spent honing my fighting prowess.
I was both stronger and faster and it clearly took her all just to keep up with me, much less mount an offensive of her own.
It was only a matter of time before…
There!
A slip, the sandy ground not allowing for as much traction as anticipated.
I capitalized and swung for her neck. She barely brought up her blade to defend in time.
Her muscles trembled as we locked our blades. Her arm was forced too close to her chest to use her full strength, and my blade moved ever closer. I could practically taste her defeat.
She had underestimated my skills and that would be her downfall.
Then I sensed something change.
Her eyes shifted.
Her body, previously so close to crumbling beneath me, suddenly stood firm.
The sword I’d been forcing back was now rigid. No, she was pushing me.
Impossible!
Ronderu was no lightweight, but my own mass far exceeded hers. She should have been caught in an unwinnable situation.
She did not care.
I was shoved off balance and forced on the defensive. This second round of exchanges went far differently than the first.
My strength was matched. My speed surpassed. Feints and trickery were immediately seen through.
No matter what I did, she was one step ahead.
The tide had shifted against me, and, in a few moments more, the fight was over.
I stared down the length of her blade, mouth agape behind my mask.
My surrounding warriors were just as dumbfounded as I. None of the ones present had ever managed to beat me. In fact, no one had bested me in single combat at any point since the war began years.
“What can I say? It is a god-given gift,” she said smugly.
Her conceited attitude grated at my nerves. However, I could not deny her achievement, no matter how infeasible it seemed.
“Your boasts truly were not unfounded,” I declared, returning her sword to its rightful owner.
“As if my competence was ever in question,” she said teasingly, before continuing in a more serious tone, “I too must admit that you did not disappoint, either.”
I questioningly raised my eyebrow - not that she would see it below my mask - and asked, “What will you be doing now, my dear great warrior?”
She placed her hand over her heart, “You may have lost the bout, but you have more than impressed me. My allegiance is yours, General.”
She had proclaimed it as though my acceptance of her offer was already given.
Considering the woman did not seem the type to follow orders and would doubtlessly cause me more than a few headaches, I had my reservations. After a moment’s consideration I figured she would be worth keeping around as a sparring partner, if nothing else.
“Ronderu lij Kummar, welcome to the resistance,” I eventually announced, returning her earlier gesture. “Now why don’t we try another round?”
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I would not dare disguise the truth in saying overthrowing the insects was easy. Yet, one had to admit stealing their weapons for our own use largely simplified our efforts. Especially after successfully commandeering a few of their generators. It made recharging these plasma rifles far simpler than continuously manufacturing additional munitions for our unsophisticated slugthrowers.
Even so, the war was far from won. The threat of orbital bombardment was ever present, kept in check only by the Yam’rii’s greed. Why risk damaging your bottom line if you can simply retake the territory with ground troops and cause far less infrastructural damage?
It had been imperative for me to mask our true military capabilities to ensure they remained so callous. We stuck to the shadows; Infiltrating camps, freeing slaves, and sabotaging supply lines. Only once they were sufficiently weakened, could we sweep in to crush them beneath our heels like the bugs they were.
Any time open confrontation was unavoidable, I made sure to engage with no more warriors than were strictly necessary for a decisive victory.
Due to this limitation, I had formed a carefully curated group of elites - my Izvoshra - for these strikes. Ronderu having joined our ranks turned out to be hugely beneficial in this regard, not to mention she was quite the boon for improving my own combat capabilities.
I had advanced to the point that very few people managed to push my skills, and therefore they had started to plateau.
Swordsmanship in particular had been difficult to practice without a challenging sparring partner, much more so than sharpshooting. And while Ronderu was hard-pressed to match me in tactical aspects of warfare, her personal power on the battlefield was unmatched.
While I preferred staying at range and picking my targets out from afar, Ronderu would simply unsheathe her blades and single-handedly tear a path of devastation through entire squadrons of enemies like a whirlwind of cuts.
Surviving such an outwardly idiotic battle-tactic would require a great deal of luck for even myself, and yet she emerged mostly, if not completely, unscathed on many occasions.
No biological creature of such size could react to attacks at the speed that Ronderu did. I had studied biomechanical interfacing for years, and the fastest of our recorded reaction speeds even back then had been only around 0.1 seconds.
Of course, Kaleesh could simply have better reflexes than humans but considering I had spent 22 years as one, I severely doubted it. Transferring the signal from one’s brain to one’s body was simply too slow for what Ronderu regularly succeeded in.
All of these facts in conjunction with my many spars against her eventually led me to believe something supernatural must have been at work. A theory I openly postulated to her one day after losing another of our spars…
“Something isn’t right,” I started, grabbing her hand to get pulled up from my position on the floor.
“You fight more adeptly than is feasible. Not only that, you never fall for any feints or trickery. You dodge away from strikes that come from outside your view, even ranged weaponry… It simply should not be possible.”
She was likely grinning madly underneath her mask as she replied, “How could you disregard something’s plausibility when you see it with your own eyes? Perhaps your intelligence is overrated…”
“I was getting to that,” I huffed in annoyance, taking off my stuffy mask. “Your capabilities are beyond comprehension, unless one considers something metaphysical to be at work.”
“Oh?” she questioned with a deliberately over-the-top inflection, “And what may those metaphysical abilities be?”
With her having all but confirmed my suspicions, I felt confident in my guess.
“I have concluded that you are precognisant. Either that, or you have some method of temporarily amplifying your body’s speed and strength. Perhaps even both.”
Ronderu chuckled, “It certainly took you long enough to recognise, General jai, tactical genius, Sheelal.”
Her mockery received an unamused glare, but I did not fall for her bait.
“I would appreciate it if you could share your esoteric techniques with me.”
She burst into laughter, “Ever the pragmatist, aren’t you?”
“My greatest feature,” I stated, which only made her shake her head.
“Sadly, what I have cannot be taught. Not unless one is a demigod like myself,” she said with conviction, before jokingly adding, “Then again, based on what our soldiers have been calling you…”
“Pah,” I spat, “Do not remind me. I strongly disapprove of this deification. You would do well not to encourage them.”
“Why Qymaen, I have no idea what you mean?” she innocently said, “I don’t encourage them. Actions simply speak louder than words, and I doubt holding myself back is in our best interest.”
She took off her mask, smirkingly peering at my stony face with her golden eyes.
“If the soldiers witness my acts and choose to venerate me? Well, I won’t dismiss their conclusions. They are based in truth, after all.”
I clenched my fists. “Ridiculous. Don’t tell me you truly hold yourself in such high regard.”
“Envious, my dear?” she snorted, “Do not worry, I approve of your presence in my future pantheon, even if you are a false god.”
My shoulders tensed. “Gods are untouchable, nay unfathomable beings. You, on the other hand, are not. Had I the means to study your body, I am certain one could unravel its mysteries. Even without understanding their underlying cause, it shall only be a matter of time before I devise adequate countermeasures to your tricks.”
“Unravel my body’s mysteries you say? My my, are you coming on to me, Qymaen?”
“No,” I immediately shot back, “Back to the topic at hand; What is the origin of your abilities? Born talent or not, there must be a way to train their use.”
Ronderu chuckled darkly, “You’re looking at it, General. Honing the skill through combat is the only method I know. If it hasn’t come to you yet, then you simply do not possess the gift.”
Perhaps I shall simply kill her and dissect the body… No, we do not have the medical technology to get any worthwhile information.
Discarding that thought I instead pondered how to counteract her abilities in case I ever find myself facing off against another one of her kind. As there was no time like the present…
“Another bout?” I queried.
“Certainly.”
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I eventually concluded that the best method of defeating Ronderu would use attacks too quick, numerous or widespread for her to escape. One had to force her into an unwinnable situation.
If my goal were truly to kill her, the best course of action would be luring Ronderu into a trap and blasting her with overwhelming firepower. To win a spar while fighting ‘fair’ necessitated drastic changes in my fighting style.
There was no way for me to ‘outthink’ her in a fight. One cannot rely on deceit against one who sees the future. My only options were either outperforming her ability, learning how to empower myself in a similar fashion, or disrupting her concentration to the degree that she cannot enter ‘the zone’.
This meant surprise attacks - not possible in duels - , taunting, and unconventional tricks like producing loud noises to distract, all while relentlessly harrying her with constant aggression. The attacks themselves were tailored to maximize force and speed, no matter how telegraphed, since attempting to outmaneuver was a fool’s errand.
Utilizing this adapted strategy, I eventually attained my first victory. Though it was short-lived as I had been too exhausted to win any of her demanded followup fights.
While I was steadily improving my combative capabilities, the war effort had continued in full force.
The bugs had grown far too complacent in their years of colonial rule and did not realise they’d bitten off more than they could chew when it came to maintaining their grip. While perhaps one in every ten of the Huk colonists had received military training, every single Kaleesh native had been born and raised into a warrior culture.
And with each camp we freed, our army grew larger.
By the time our enemies realized the problem had spiralled completely out of their control, it was already too late. With their orbital defenses seized and our most important encampments nestled too deep for them to root out from orbit, our might could no longer be matched.
They were pushed to the very outskirts of the region, and, caught between enemies on one side and the harsh desert on the other, the Yam’rii had no choice but to depart to one of the planet’s more fortified positions.
Cerebar had been freed.
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-- 983 ARR --
Though many soldiers had started seeing myself and Ronderu as beyond mortals, not all of them were satisfied with the war effort. I had been ruthless with my attacks against military installations, but mostly disregarded the Yam’rii settlers that chose to evacuate their stolen properties.
Something that Puraeva, one of my army’s lieutenants, had nagged me about on many occasions.
Today’s discussion was in a similar vein.
“Come now, you cannot seriously be considering this!” she argued, “They are a blight to our world and must be removed. I’ll even handle the mission myself if you cannot stomach it.”
“No,” I replied, sternly glowering at her before focusing my attention back to the paperwork in front of me.
I’d been trying to come up with a method of shifting our form of political leadership away from ‘might makes right’ in the hopes that it would not be required for me to govern in the future.
Getting ignored didn’t sit well with Puraeva and she hissed out in anger.
“Why not!?”
I sighed.
“We have now looped back to the start of this conversation. No matter what you say and how much of my time you choose to waste, I will not send you, or anyone else, to purge the remaining colonists from my territory.”
“You…” her entire body trembled, “You would let these vile things tread upon our hallowed ground as if it were their right!?”
“It is not anyone’s right to lay claim to the land. We do not need it, and the colonists have remained peaceful.” I reasoned, “They are not at fault for getting abandoned by their military and presently have no choice but to stay.”
Both my scouts and intercepted transmissions had confirmed that there were no functioning long-range vehicles in their camp, and their distress calls had fallen on deaf ears.
“There is always a choice! They can walk across the desert on foot for all I care. How about we give them a few days' warning?”
That suggestion was so terrible, I got up from my chair to look down at her.
“I will not permit such an act. They are civilians.”
“Did the Huk care about civilians?” she derisively questioned.
“Do you wish me to stoop to their level?” I mockingly shot back, “If we do not hold ourselves to higher ideals, we are no different than our rapacious invaders.”
“You are simply a coward, Qymaen,” she growled, “Nothing like the one I heard tales of!”
Pah, how am I at fault for other people’s aggrandization?
“How terrible,” I deadpanned, “Get out of my office you impudent brat!”
Puraeva struggled with words for a moment before spinning around and leaving the room, muttering a string of insults along the way.
I closed the door behind her and let loose a drawn out sigh.
She had a point. I was indeed acting… soft. And not for any such noble reason as ‘holding ourselves to higher ideals. Even now I felt my vengeful desires heat my core like embers in a furnace. I only held back thanks to my Terran origins.
A planet that for all I knew did not even exist in this universe. And if it did, humanity likely destroyed itself long ago.
Terra went up in flames because people discarded their ideals.
Vengeance would not solve things. Yes, we needed to drive the invaders from our world. They abused and overworked our populace and plundered our planet’s resources.
However, slaughtering defenseless people simply did not sit right with me. People rarely act with malicious intent. At first I had been thoroughly convinced the Yam’rii were beyond redemption; Vile creatures that saw themselves as above all others.
However, as time went by and our victories mounted, it had become more and more obvious that the common Yam’rii populace had fallen victim to propaganda. The sheer look of surprise whenever I fluently spoke their language; As if we savages had no capacity to learn.
Even I had to learn that our species' lack of scientific progression simply stemmed from disinterest. People had the foresight to know developing even larger sticks would rapidly increase losses on all sides.
Why would one wish for wars to become more destructive?
Kaleeshian society at large was simply content with the way things were, or at least they had been until militaristic advancement became a necessity due to outside influence.
Given time and… less hostile circumstances I believed that the Yam’rii settlers could discard their destructive beliefs, and perhaps so too could even their other colonies be saved.
Satisfied with my internal conclusion for the moment, I got back to piecing together a workable form of governance.