-- Another World, 1001 ARR --

I find myself in a foreign landscape. The sky is dyed red, ash rains from above and the ground is littered with smoldering craters.

I reach up to wipe the dust from my eyes, only to scrape against my mask’s hard surface.

My attempt to pry it off in turn gets cut short by my wheezing cough. The air is thick with the pungent smell of burnt flesh and molten metal.

I stand alone, amidst a sea of corpses.

Shadows travel across the landscape as scavengers circle above, scouting for an easy meal. They shy away from me, as I offer them no flesh.

Treading upon the cracked earth of this desolate ground, I ponder what might have caused this and, more importantly, where I am.

The dead around me look unlike any beings I’d seen before. They were clearly humanoid but neither human nor kaleesh. Their grey-skinned bodies were adorned with red, skintight fabric that seemed inappropriate for the battlefield.

I reach down to turn one of them over. They sport a deep, charred cut across their torso; The wound sutured shut by whatever weapon caused it.

“Let go of her!”

I jump back and find myself facing an angry spectre. No matter how much I focus, I cannot make out any more than her eyes. Those icy blue orbs gaze at me with an angry intensity unlike any that had ever been leveled in my direction.

“To think for a moment I believed you had a shred of decency in you,” the shrouded figure growled.

I do not know her, and yet I feel an intimate familiarity.

“Good riddance.” The words involuntarily echo from my mask.

In the back of my mind, I sense my forefathers’ disappointment in me. I try to open my mouth to demand an explanation from this vengeful woman, yet I find I have no mouth.

Before I can question this discovery, the figure reaches for a cylindrical tube of metal at her hip. I know not what I am looking at, and yet I recognize it to be a weapon. One I had seen many times before…

Is that a-

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-- 983 ARR --

“General!”

Startled awake by an anxious cry, I jolted upright and tore a hole through the paper sheet that my tusk raked over.

I must have fallen asleep while working.

“What is it, Kailel?” I asked while massaging my stiff neck.

“Puraeva son Cossar was sighted leaving the camp with a contingent of soldiers. I do not recall any orders going out. Are we meant to advance this night?”

“That impetuous little-” I caught myself and took a steadying breath. “No, we are most certainly not. Tell me where you last saw them!”

I was almost certain I knew where she and her posse were headed. Kailel’s quick recounting served to confirm my theory.

“Gather the remaining Izvoshra!” I ordered, “We must depart at once.”

Puraeva and her followers had left almost 40 minutes ago, and everyone simply assumed they were acting under my orders.

I’d been far too lenient. It should have been obvious she’d act out like this.

I needed to show I would not tolerate someone violating my direct commands, no matter how good of a commander they were otherwise.

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It had been most fortunate that our plans of reverse-engineering the Yam’rii’s vehicles to allow for humanoid drivers were incomplete, as it gave us an opportunity to catch up with the missing troops.

Less fortunately, closing the gap necessitated we cut a path straight through the Kunbal jungle. A harrowing task, as it was filled to the brim with nocturnal predators and we could not afford to waste time with stealth.

Even my elite needed to pay careful attention, lest they were introduced to a swift and painful end. A fact they were sorely reminded of when a Trokrazsk leapt from the forest’s canopy and nearly bit Toteiya’s head off.

My blade’s timely intervention stopped that fate from befalling her.

“Remain vigilant,” I said, pulling the sword from the scaled beast’s corpse, “We are nearly out of this troublesome place.”

Shaking herself free from her stupor, she quickly nodded in affirmation.

Thankfully, we finished our trek without any further mishaps and reached the colonial town before our missing troops.

To ensure the populace did not notice our presence and do something idiotic, we set ourselves up in the plains’ thicket to await our wayward forces.

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By my estimate, it took another quarter hour for Ronderu and her posse to arrive. They had attempted to stay out of sight, but a group of 40 wasn’t exactly difficult to spot if one actively searched for them with a sniper scope.

I lowered my rifle and lifted myself off the ground, dropping any semblance of stealth as I confidently strode to their location.

My 2-meter-tall form stood out like a sore thumb in the flatlands and the troop’s immediately spotted me.

I couldn’t read their reactions at such range, but they were no doubt confused as to why I’d personally made my way over here.

“Show yourself, Puraeva!” I ordered, “I know you are here.”

I could hear sounds of alarm coming from the settlement behind me. Their lackluster sentries must have finally noticed our presence.

“You can not be serious Qymaen!” shouted the self-important miscreant, as she stepped into view from behind a withered tree stump, “To think you’d go so far as to save these creatures; How utterly despicable.”

“I have no need to listen to your prattle,” I snidely replied, turning my attention to the other soldiers, “All of you have been led to believe this ill-conceived plan was my idea. Allow me to clarify it was not. This traitor is acting far above her station.”

“Traitor, you say?” she chuckled, turning to address the crowd, “It is quite obvious who the real traitor is.

The General proclaims Cerebar has been freed, and yet these parasites still reside here unchecked!” she accused while pointing to the distant settlement.

“You are soft; Unfit to lead this war any longer! We have fought for over two years and have nothing more to show for it than a single region with a mere 100 thousand citizens saved!

Were it up to me we’d have long marched across the continent and exterminated the Huk. millions suffer while you are content to sit around and busy yourself with bureaucratic nonsense!” she accused, “I say we finish this here and now. No longer shall these bugs defile our holy land!”

“Holy land?” I question, suppressing my urge to laugh, “You ask me to waste our efforts purging an innocent population. They are products of the society they grew up in. I merely wish to-”

“No, Qymaen!” hissed a most recognizable voice, “You simply lack the will to do what is needed.”

“Ronderu…” I trailed off, stunned to silence by her betrayal.

“I have travelled far and witnessed the way they treat our kind. Camps full of slaves forced to toil day and night,” she explained in a somber tone, “They are using our own people to destroy this world and you are treading far too carefully to stop it in time!”

Yes of course. These defenseless trapped colonists are the ones destroying our world.

Her idiotic remark sufficed to reignite my indignant flames and I again found my voice.

“You are injecting an argument that has nothing to do with this situation,” I interject, “I understand you may have gripes with the way I’ve been conducting this war, but ending the lives of these people is a separate issue.”

Ronderu crossed her arms as Puraeva petulantly lifted her chin, “I said it before and I will say it again. You lack conviction, Qymaen. It is time for a change in leadership.”

My body tensed with barely contained rage. “Conviction. You dare lecture me on conviction? Me, the one whose home was decimated by the invaders’ orbital bombardment. The one who freed you from enslavement,” I announced without a hint of amusement, “Know your place!”

The spectating soldiers twitchily glanced about in anticipation of a physical fight, perhaps pondering who to side with in such an event.

Puraeva scoffed.

"Or what? You'll try and integrate me into our society?" she mockingly challenged.

My wrath enveloped me like an inviting winter cloak. I wanted nothing more than to clobber her over the head at that moment.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Yet I restrained myself, and relaxed my body.

"How amusing,” I respond coolly, “Perhaps you should have chosen an alternate career.”

“I should say the same to you,” she chided, resting her hand on the gun at her side.

I eyed her for a few moments. My body remained still.

“I am known by many names. Some flattering, some… less so,” I pause to chuckle darkly, “None of them paint me as feeble.”

“Mercy is weakness!” she growls before raising her refitted blaster…

Before she could so much as gasp in surprise, I had already closed the distance to knock the weapon from her hand. Suppressing her struggles, Puraeva now served as a shield from any rash action.

“Make no mistake,” I said with my arm locked around her neck, “Mercy is a privilege of the strong. One that, fortunately for you, I choose to partake in.”

Her squirming calmed down - likely due to the discomfort it caused her - and I twisted us both around to face the Yam’rii town.

It was in utter upheaval as the inhabitants did not know how to respond to our presence.

“Look at them, Puraeva. They act like scared children. Butchering them in a blind act of vengeance benefits no one,” I reasoned, “We cannot enslave ourselves to emotion, for it will lead us down a dark path.”

“Shut up!” she rasped, redoubling her previous efforts.

“Why are you so afraid? If these people posed any threat, we would have lo-”

I was cut off by streaks of light flashing across the sky and smashing into the landscape ahead. The ensuing shockwave knocked me backwards as all hell broke loose around us.

Orbital bombardment.

And we were stuck out in the open, beyond the reach of our reconquered city’s orbital defenses.

I scrambled back to my feet and reached down to help Puraeva up from the ground. She took my hand without hesitation and we rushed back towards the relative safety of the forest.

At least she recognizes this is no longer the time to squabble.

The two of us had been fortunate to remain mostly unscathed. My Ivozshra, that had been lying in wait in case the dispute escalated further, did their best to aid those that were caught by superheated slag.

I quickly surveyed the are to find Ronderu had of course dodged out of the way of any debris and was well on her way toward the safety of the forest canopy.

“Find cover! Follow Ronderu!” I shouted with all my might, desperate to be heard over the blasts tearing across the terrain.

The previously disobedient soldiers wasted no time questioning my commands as we collectively scrambled to safety.

Those who could still run that is.

Many had gotten injured by the shrapnel caused by the initial volley, and the laser barrage only increased in intensity as time went on. The Yam’rii did not want to take any chances.

We were most fortunate they had chosen to focus their efforts on the colony itself. The Yam’rii fleet must have been under the mistaken impression we had invaded the town.

They seem to lack any sufficiently powerful imaging technology to confirm this hypothesis.

Still, I could not afford to relax. My legs ached from abuse as I pushed myself harder than I had in many months. The other soldiers gradually fell behind as I closed the gap between Ronderu and myself.

We had almost reached the canopy, but the Yam’rii finally wised up and adjusted their attack to track our positions more accurately.

Only 100 more meters to go.

One step. Two, Three…

My legs ached. My lung burned. And my body screamed for pause.

Yet I felt at peace. As if I was somehow one with the world.

40 meters left.

There was nothing but me and the forest. If I fell here now, my whole life - new life – would be for naught.

Though sprinting for such a period should have long emptied my reserves, newfound strength surged through my veins from where I did not know.

I barely noted when I finally made it past the tree line and slightly slowed my pace. The trees were still sparse this far in, so I quickly surveyed my surroundings to search for Ronderu.

I was not quick enough.

Plasma impacted a short distance away and a wave of hot air swept me off the ground, propelling me upwards into the air. I barely managed to flail my arms in front of my face before slamming against a tree and momentarily lost consciousness.

I returned to awareness lying in a heap on the forest ground. Pain lanced through my shoulder and the acrid taste of ash and soot marred my throat.

I coughed up and spat out a tarlike globule of gunk in an attempt at clearing my airways; A motion that only served to further agitate my lungs in addition to sending jolts of pain throughout the rest of my torso.

The forest was dense with smoke and I could hear the crack of giant trees splintering from the still ongoing orbital laser battery.

“Qymaen!” I heard a familiar voice shout in the distance, “Get up, you lazy lug!”

Tall words from someone whose shoulder isn’t dislocated.

I bit back my snarky remark tried to find where Ronderu was speaking from. The smoke was too thick to see through, but her voice could serve as my guide.

“R-eugh,” I wheezed out more coughs. Shouting for her was not an option.

I fought through the pain and clambered to my feet, blearily limping towards her estimated location. My swimming vision and dizziness pointed to a concussion or worse, smoke poisoning.

Wonderful.

“Dammit Qymaen! Come quickly or I leave without you!” she barked. How did she even have the lung capacity for that?

A charred branch of wood crashed to the floor beside me. Right, it was not the time to ponder such things. At least her shout served to better guide me.

Though my entire body trembled, and the trance-like state of runner’s high from earlier had been interrupted, I persevered.

My limp running speed would not be breaking any records. However, it sufficed to get clear of the worst of the smoke and finally stumble into view of my longtime dueling partner.

“You look like shit,” she said with a mirthless grin.

I glared at her, but that was difficult to keep up when she immediately rushed forwards to embrace me. I didn’t have the strength to resist her crushing hug, though the pain she caused made me let loose some rather pitiful sounds.

“I-“ she quickly let go, “Ahem. My apologies, General. We need to take care of your injuries.”

I shot her down and rasped out a response, “Not now. They have not yet let up their attack and the fire is spreading.” The telltale snap of a nearby falling tree emphasized my words, “We must return to camp as soon as possible. How-“ another cough, “how many survivors?”

Looking around the meagre group of Ivozshra, I feared the worst.

“Most have already retreated farther. These are the ones who demanded to keep lookout with me,” she explained, “Many are still missing, however. I doubt half our group survived.”

I huffed out in frustration, which led to yet another a coughing fit.

I hope that isn’t a permanent addition.

“I loathe to admit it, but I don’t think others will be coming,” Ronderu eventually said, “You were in there for at least ten minutes.”

Had I truly been unconscious so long? It’s a miracle I was still alive at all.

“What do you suggest?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“We cut our losses,” she mumbles, clearly enjoying the decision as little as I did. “If not for you… I’d have long left,” she added even more quietly.

“Very well.”

And so we fled through the forest, Ronderu half-carrying me the entire way back to our underground city.

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Our military installation was in utter disarray by the time Ronderu and I arrived.

Puraeva, who had… fortunately survived our encounter, had been spreading the news of my death at the hand of the Huk fleet. She was immediately detained and imprisoned for attempted mutiny while I was carted off to our medical wing.

The doctors determined that not only was my shoulder dislocated, but the tendon was also torn. Paired with the removal of both shrapnel and a few bone fragments — which honestly may have been in my body long before the day’s escapades — my medical recovery was estimated to take at least two months.

And that was not the worst part.

My excessive smoke inhalation caused scarring and would leave me with a persistent light cough for the rest of my life.

On the bright side, my injuries meant I had a lot of free time to continue work on restructuring our governing body, though exclusively using my left hand stifled progress. Perhaps I should switch over to digital like the rest of our administrative staff? I was only 23 years out of practice…

“Pardon the intrusion, General, may I come in?” asked my assistant, Kailel, after a polite knock.

“Of course,” I replied, thankful for a distraction from my cramping hand.

“Preliminary reports have come back,” he explained after entering, “No survivors have been sighted so far, including from the village itself.”

Then it was as I feared, whichever halfwit was in control of the Huk fleet had commanded his ships to open fire upon their own people in order to secure our deaths.

“That is unfortunate,” I genuinely responded, “We must appropriately compensate the soldier’s families.”

“But sir, did they not attempt treason?”

“They were misguided, not evil,” I replied, “To discredit them would be to spit upon their past valor.”

“As is your will, General,” he said with a deferent bow, “May your recovery be swift and your rule unquestioned.”

Don’t say that… I am literally working on a democratic elective system right now.

Then again, perhaps giving up my dictatorship should wait until after we won the war, especially if species annihilation was the people’s will.

Though the Yam’rii’s last action made one thing very clear. They did not care for their people just as they cared not for ours. Bringing their rule to a swift end would be in everyone’s best interest.

We needed to expand our efforts.

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Weeks passed and I was soon released from my torturous boredom. Sparring with my right arm was out of the question, but Ronderu was willing to indulge my pathetic attempts at fighting with my left.

In other news, our engineers had made great strides in recreating Huk technology – specifically portable shield generators – which in turn meant our planetary liberation efforts could soon resume.

However, without access to one of their spaceships, building anything to contest their fleet would take many years. And as long as they kept aerial superiority there was nothing to stop them from using the other regions’ civilian population as hostages.

It was for this very reason that I had accepted a dangerous proposition. A supposed Huk officer had contacted our base through a backdoor in the communications array that none of us had even been aware existed to set up a private meeting.

The Yam’rii, identifying itself as majordomo H’ritek, expressed its master’s wishes to extend a helping claw, which is why my Ivozshra and I currently found ourselves sitting across a nervously clicking officer.

They had originally demanded we meet on board one of their ships, but it would be a cold day in hell before I bowed to such an insanely risky demand. We had eventually agreed to the inverse conditions, allowing an envoy safe passage into the depths of our mountain city.

Said envoy was the one who had been nervously glancing at our masked faces for the past two minutes, unable to muster up the courage to speak. They were far smaller than usual for their race; barely reaching up to my chest even when accounting for their atypically large antennae.

Perhaps their diminutive size compared to ours was causing them discomfort.

I supposed it was up to me to get things started.

“You have come so very far,” I announced suddenly, “If we wished you harm, you’d have long been dealt with.”

My words did not exactly have the calming effect I hoped for. A byproduct of Kalee’s blunt culture no doubt.

Suppressing a sigh, I took off my mask and tried my best to give a reassuring smile.

“As you no doubt already know, I am Qymaen jai Sheelal,” I start, “May I know your name?”

The little vespid’s feelers twitched back and forth a bit before he opened his mandibles.

“This one’s name is H’lojap,” the envoy chittered, “I am here on behalf of queen Hixnea.”

“Oh?” I respond without thought, “I thought you spoke on behalf of H’ritek?”

“This one speaks on behalf of H’ritek, majordomo to Hixnea. Therefore this one is an extension of Hixnea.”

It seemed the antennae weren’t mere aesthetic additions. H’lojap acted more like a drone than an individual.

“Very well, then let us commence the discussion,” I said, steepling my fingers, “Your message spoke of a military coalition?”

“Yes. Hixnea does not approve of our current leadership. Your passivity regarding the civilians has been noted. Sacrifice of noncombatants for military gain was unacceptable.”

“And I am meant to believe that alone sufficed to betray your people?” I postulated.

Their antennae once again twitched, “No. High queen Wrax has been using the casualties to garner support for the war. She is insinuating your people are responsible. The collective is getting swayed through lies and deceit.”

The drone’s feelers sped up and almost vibrated.

“Hixnea sees through this trickery. Kaleesh were supposedly mindless savages. That sentiment is now in doubt. Hixnea wishes to aid the kaleesh.”

“And in return we are meant to help overthrow this High queen,” I finished for them.

“Yes,” the envoy answered without missing a beat. “The queen has concluded there is more to gain from aiding you than removing you.”

“And for what reason should I trust your words?” I questioned, “This may very well be a ploy to lure us into danger.”

“None,” it responded, “But we wish nothing of you, yet. We wish only to inform you that…” it paused to conspiratorially lean forwards, “There is a good chance technical malfunctions will force a certain vessel into an emergency landing soon.”

They clearly wished to enhance our military research. However…

“I do not see how commandeering this vessel is without risk.”

“Not without risk,” the vespid responded, “Much to gain, however. Strategic assets and military technology will be found upon the ship. Most combatants will have fled the vessel.”

“Most?”

“Not all. Would seem suspicious.”

“I am quite certain it would seem suspicious either way,” I explain.

“Indeed. Yet Wrax cannot act upon it. She still implies your people are not intelligent enough to space travel.”

Which means information on us repurposing their technology has been suppressed.

“Our successful reproduction of space-worthy vessels would weaken her political position,” I concluded.

The envoy raised its mandibles in an approximation of a grin.

“Precisely.”