Lack'nul was exhausted. Trying to live up to his predecessor would have been difficult in times of peace, but doing so now, while actively at war, was a nightmare. Usually, standing guard for the first shift at night was a relatively easy watch, but he'd been up extra early the last several mornings to get in his practice before running everyone through the same drills Ger'ron had a thousand times before. He was leaning on his spear more than he used to, trying to leach a little more strength from the wooden shaft supporting a good portion of his body weight.

The guard captain jerked awake as someone shook his shoulder. He started to bring his spear up defensively, only to find Orth'kun standing before him with his hands raised in surrender and a giant grin that belied his posture. "Heya boss didn't mean to startle you or anything, but your watch is over. Time for me to take over!"

Lack'nul blinked furiously. His shift shouldn't be anywhere near over! So that meant he'd fallen asleep... Which meant this part of the camp had gone unwatched for who knew how long...

His friend just grinned at him before answering the confused expression on his face. "Relax, boss, it hasn't been that long. Jar'maal noticed you were looking kinda out of it and got me to replace you a bit early. Go get yourself some rest. I'll take over for you."

Lack'nul shook his head as he stood his ground stubbornly. "It's my job to stand watch just like the rest of you. I can't start slacking just because someone threw a new title at me! And what’s with all this ‘boss’ talk?"

Orth'kun simply raised an eye ridge. "Well, I call you boss, because you’re the boss. One of them anyway. What’s more, you're in no condition to stand watch right now. You need some rest. You won't do anyone any good if you're so tired you can't spot a giant like me walking right up to you like I did. You didn't see old Ger'ron standing watch all night long, and neither should you! You're acting like some young pup with something to prove!"

Lack'nul still refused to yield the watch. "Well, maybe I do have something to prove. I didn't earn this spot the way Ger'ron did!"

The larger argu'n simply rolled his eyes. "You know as well as I do that Ger'ron started out a gate guard, just like you. He was just the right guy at the right place at the right time, also like you. So I guess what I'm wonderin' is, who do you need to prove something to, us…or yourself?"

The inexperienced guard captain shook his head as he leaned against the spear again. "I don't know, maybe both? Either way, we can't afford any slackers in the camp these days. I gotta pull my own weight around here."

Orth'kun laughed and slapped Lack'nul on the back. "Well, good thing you got a lot less weight to pull than me! But seriously, you won't help anyone if you're too tired to run drills in the morning. Get some rest, and if you're worried about whether or not you're doing enough around camp, just ask me. I promise I'll tell ya if you start to get lazy on us!"

Finally, Lack'nul relented and handed over the spear with a quick, "Yeah, maybe you're right." before trudging back to his tent. His legs felt almost as heavy as his eyelids. As he climbed into his tent and prepped his sleeping pad, the guard captain worried about the same thing that had been bothering him for a while now. How could he live up to Ger'ron's legacy? What did he bring to the hunt to make his presence worthwhile?

-

Vox'thon felt lost and confused. Not physically lost. Given the sensors Angela had installed in her new body, the AI had a perfect map of where she'd been relative to where they were, but rather, she was morally and mentally lost.

She agreed with B'arthon's plan, in principle, to unite the argu'n people and put an end to all the useless bickering between villages and tribes. A strong centralized leader would go a long way toward helping the people to better specialize, reduce waste, and trivialize emergencies that once would have wiped out entire villages. In a way, the success they'd already seen in overcoming the few villages that resisted and leading the new empire to finally deal with the hill people was proof of the plan's viability. She'd even go so far as to say that his plan had a significantly higher chance of initial success than Jack's, which depended on the argu'n people learning from his example rather than just taking what he offered and returning to their old ways, albeit in better houses.

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The problem in his plan lay in dealing with Jack and S'haar. For one thing, she thought of them as a kind of distant family. They were like aunts and uncles that she rarely saw, but the gifts and kindness they'd given her were something the AI wouldn't soon forget. Without them, she'd likely have lost power and "died" long ago, never having seen the world or B'arthon, her father's, face. So it pained her to see them in danger.

On the other hand, she had to admit her father had a point that if they were allowed to set up their own nation near his own, they'd likely create the same kind of rival for this empire that the villages were to each other now. What kind of death and waste would be expended in the conflicts between two such powers? The AI mentally shuddered at the thought.

But that brought her to the second issue of dealing with Jack and S'haar, the threat they posed now. Twice now, Vox'thon had thought for sure they'd be captured or slain by her father's greater manpower and maneuvering, but the first time they effortlessly wiped out one of his armies, and the second, they slipped through a supposedly impregnable wall of argu'n without a single loss. Not to mention the times before this, when her father told Vox'thon of them overcoming unbelievable odds. In short, even cut off and surrounded, they posed a significant threat, and judging by B'arthon's constant state of annoyance and stress, he'd come to the same conclusion.

The hunters had told them they'd be meeting up with A'ngles' army in another day and a half, which meant they'd already made considerable gains since launching an offensive into the hills. But that might be a mixed blessing.

Right now, B'arthon was lying back on his sleeping pad, but judging by his breathing, he was far from sleep. With the hunters far enough away, the AI decided to speak up for the first time tonight. "Sounds like your father's progress has been pretty straightforward so far."

B'arthon cracked an eye and glanced over at Vox'thon. "Yes. From what I've gathered from the scouts we've passed, he's already taken the survivors of several hill people tribes captive to be sworn into the empire. That's good news... and bad."

Vox'thon was somewhat relieved to hear his thoughts echoing her own, though she decided to voice her concerns anyway. "Yes, my thoughts exactly. Lord A'ngles' early success will likely drive many tribes to unite with Jack and S'haar. Though they won't have time to give them new equipment or significant training, each new member of their growing army will likely account for far more than their individual abilities would suggest."

B'arthon sighed. "You're not wrong. I might have suggested leaving the hill people be and just combing the mountains for their encampment, but on the other hand, there's no guarantee they wouldn't have slipped through our grasp again and simply united the tribes behind us, thus cutting off our supplies from the villages. The virtue of this plan is twofold. For one thing, it reduces the number of possible enemies to complicate our plans. Second, while each new tribe increases their numbers, they also make it harder for them to slip past us unnoticed again. They'll have to finally stand and fight, and we'll know whose plan was superior.

They'd had this part of the conversation several times before, but Vox'thon couldn't help but voice her question again. "And what if it turns out their plan is stronger?"

B'arthon sighed and settled into his pad a little more. "Then at least I'll know we've left our new empire in good hands."

That brought another concern to Vox'thon's mind. "But how do you know they'll take over your empire rather than simply disband it back into the villages it was before?"

B'arthon cracked his eyes open again and grinned slightly. "Because they'll have no choice. Even if they win and I die, the villages have been upturned, and the people shifted to the point they can't easily go back to being individually self-sustaining. So it will take a keen mind to step in and redirect aid and work through the villages to keep them alive through the coming fall and winter. By then, it'll be too late. The people will have seen how their survivability and quality of life improve as a united people rather than squabbling villages. They'll insist on someone taking over rather than disbanding. They'll insist on Jack and S'haar. And Jack, unwilling to sit by and watch people suffer, will step up when called. In one form or another, this empire will stand."

Vox'thon was amazed at B'arthon's calm demeanor in considering his potential loss and death. His own life was truly a secondary concern for him, so much so that he'd even incorporated its loss into his plans. But, of course, his death was not something the AI was so ready to accept. If he wasn't willing to fight harder for his own survival, Vox'thon would just have to find a way to fight for him. But how? Unlike Angela, she wasn't capable of self-motion. So, if she wanted to influence the upcoming battle, she'd have to fight in her own way. Of course, that brought her back to her ethical dilemma. Could she bring herself to fight against the people who'd been so kind to her? Would not choosing not to fight be the same as fighting against B'arthon? There didn't seem to be any readily available answers, and as B'arthon drifted to sleep, the AI continued considering the possible ramifications of the choices ahead of her.