Only a tiny guarding quadrotor accompanied Devi Kali on her way through the maze of Ancient Echo’s corridors. She paced ahead, gazing at the colourful mosaics set in the grey-brown floor. Members of her race preferred writing their history in the form of art, so every part of these walls was covered in bas-reliefs or murals. Step by step, she followed the scenes depicted from Deva Khvarrah’s life, who was famous for the defence of their tribe from total extermination by an ancient dictator’s hand.

She halted before the mosaic in a golden frame showing the last scene of the battle of Aeshma’s Kurgan. On the emerald hill stood a silhouette resembling Deva, made up of golden and ruby stones. He held a sword with a rectangular blade in one hand and the head of a horned reptile in the other. Bright violet smudges and spirals spreading over the victorious creature pierced the blue sky. Well-formed, rounded letters of the words spoken by Deva on that day were etched on the frame.

Devi Kali bore her eyes into the red sockets of the creature. The longer she gazed, the heavier her armour seemed to become as if the servomotors supporting the exoskeleton were losing their strength, and coruscium plates were getting thicker, trying to crack the old Kehrian woman’s bones with its weight.

Devi inhaled, filling her lungs with thick air, and closed her eyes.

How were you able to save the entire planet and I couldn’t protect even five thousand civilians? she asked in her mind, thinking about the innocent creatures who’d lost their lives in the firestorm.

“Devi?” spoke a following her person. He folded his hands and bowed his head. “Master Captain Jangalee couldn’t make a connection, he wanted to ask if you intend to participate in the staff meeting.”

“Not now, Nidar,” she replied. She did not need to open her eyes to know who stood behind her. Every Rakshasa moved in a rhythmic pace unique to him and his fighting style. Nidar was still an apprentice; his steps were fast and uneven as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere all the time.

Devi marched on, but the young Kehrian ran close and stood in her way. Symbolising his class, the recently embroidered golden arabesques embellished his simple red robe. Strands of black hair, too short to make dreadlocks of them, flopped on his left eye. His round, sky-blue face still did not bear keepsakes from any of the battles except a purple burn on his cheek that he sustained during his training with plasma weapons.

“Get out of my way,” she said without any emotions, “please. I’ll come when I’m ready.”

Nidar stepped back, regretting the affront he’d committed, but Devi knew his bratty nature and usually tolerated his too honest an opinion. He sensed indifference in her voice and knew that in this state, she would not care about the tone of her favourite apprentice.

“I heard about what happened on our planet too, and I completely understand your sorrow, Devi.” He breathed in sharply as if preparing to jump into the deep waters. “But you can’t let our shared grief outshine all our plans and actions. Time… does not stand still, we need to act.”

“Five thousand, doesn’t matter if they were Rakshasas or common citizens, deserve the same long moment of silence,” muttered Devi. Nidar got out of her way and observed how the Kehrian woman turned to the entrance leading to the lifts.

If you don’t do anything with this, the entire rebellion will end up deserving a moment of silence, he thought in spite of himself.

Only one week remained for the rebel fleet to prepare for action on Irkheor. All units gathered on the uninhabited planet to restock and let the commanders amend the last few details of the plan. Tens of ships drifted around the dead ball of rubble, and the largest of them was the Annihilator. Every ship seemed to be like a fly in front of the eagle when they flew close to it. Even the smooth and sleek Nelphian Echecatl seemed too small in front of it. Thousands of huge cargo ships surrounded the colossus, and the smaller delivery vehicles coursed between them and Annihilator’s hangars. Insane chaos and haste dominated inside the Epifortress, although the crew sought to fulfil their tasks as best as they could.

The commanders of space, suborbital and land forces, strategists and engineers sat around the semi-circular table in the Annihilator’s command centre. They had been carrying a discussion as ferocious as it was pointless for three hours. Each of them wanted his opinion to be the most important, ignoring the arguments of the rest. The majority of rebels were like that. They cared only about themselves and their planets, but their situation forced them to cooperate.

Devi Kali had set a clear condition – all of them would act together under her orders, or they would never become strong enough to liberate their motherlands. Usually, the rebels did not live to see the freedom of their planets because Devi fought only for the rich planets of utmost importance, to begin with, leaving the other systems to fight on their own. She explained that such an action was necessary to wage war, but none of her Commanders, at least not the rational ones, believed in her words. Her forced allies would prefer to undertake the fight by themselves, but their forces were nothing in comparison with the enemy’s modern armament and their numerous fleet. They had no other way but to forget their pride and keep a burning hope that one day they would attend the battle for the freedom of their homeland.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Sitting in the middle, Devi Kali looked at the gathered, trying to listen to and consider all statements but before one person could finish, the another broke in, imposing a whole new solution. They fought for every piece of her attention as loud and as violent as the hyenas tussling for a scrap of meat.

She tilted her ears back and pushed away from her seat with a screech. She stood up and gave them a scorching glance.

“Shut up!” she roared, gripping the edge of the tabletop.

A prickle of anxiety stung Antares, sitting right next to her. Like the rest, he pursed his lips and turned his head towards her.

“Don’t stoop to the level of those primitives from Xibalba,” she barked, straightening up and crossing her arms.

Faces of the gathered still revealed combative bitterness and anger with everybody and everything, hidden under the mask of momentary embarrassment.

“You heard right. Xibalba,” she spoke again, twisting her wrinkled mouth scornfully, “All that you seem to do is jump down each other’s throats.” Devi Kali snarled under her breath. “We’ll never reach an agreement this way.”

A head taller than Antares, a Celestian with a long, sloppy and almost white braid, sighed and adjusted his sky-blue cloak. “Can I?”

Devi nodded and sat down. “Speak, Jarl Vindold.”

“If, of course, you won’t deem it out of line, I wanted to show that there’s nothing to think about,” he said, crossing his arms which were covered in angular script and twining spirals. “Everything is already decided, and now you’ve suddenly changed your mind, expecting us to adapt our plans overnight.”

“Nothing was decided,” Devi cut through. “There were only a couple of suggestions about who carried out the raid. I’ve chosen General Antares.” In uttering the last few words, another wave of pain and sorrow buffeted her, which she smothered straight away with her wrath.

Soon you’ll pay for your foolishness, she thought, and the tips of her ears shivered.

Antares glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and clenched his fists hidden under the table. He wished that one day, somewhere in the darkness, he could ambush and attack the hated Devi, but her heavy, shining power armour aroused some kind of primal fear in him. He would rather not confront her fists and the golden plasma sword. Rapt in the ritual fury, the creature could crack his spine with one move in the blink of an eye.

“Why him?” asked Vindold and looked at Antares. “His pilots, sorry General, but that’s the truth, don’t handle it well."

“That’s why.” Devi lowered her head to take a moment to reflect, whereupon she carried on, piercing the Celestian with her sight, “This is the war. The Union will stop at nothing. They’re better armed and organised.” She cast a dominant glance on the gathered members, one by one, “We have only forty percent of what they have. Our supplies are very limited. Our advantage is rapid strikes at the weakest points on the peripheral zones, which requires us to usually take ruthless decisions. Many of Antares’s people will die, but due to this, we’ll gain entry to the only database of SynthBreed Project present so far before the enemy transports the data copies to the other systems. If we don’t hurry up, we’ll get one of the many copies, which will be useless. Hence, my decision remains unchanged.” She quietened down, leaning her hands on the table.

“I have to agree with Devi Kali,” spoke an Ifrit, “if we’re about to lose somebody, we should lose the weakest ones.”

He glanced at Antares, who just tightened his lips and turned away. The Ifrit had his own selfish motive in agreeing with Devi. He’d waited for the rebellion to liberate his world for ten years, but according to Devi, that planet was worthless. Only sparse bushes and short trees grew on the wastelands which lacked the valuable supplies. Nonetheless, the Union built factories there, displacing the natives or engaging them in arduous labour.

“However…” began Jarl Vindold.

“Enough, Jarl,” said Devi in a calm but firm tone. “We cannot wonder endlessly.”

“Perkele” the Celestian growled under his breath with a hope that the elderly Kehrian woman would not hear and understand his insult.

Devi pretended not to notice this and asked, “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

"An idiotic question," whispered Vindold to himself, propping his chin up, "you don’t care about who has what to say anyway."

The Commanders refrained from answering her. They looked at each other, plotting and planning about whom to establish an alliance with and whom to recognise as an enemy.

Antares had considered asking for the support of Jarl Vindold for a few years. He’d noticed that the representative of Talvi did not like Devi’s ideas too. Together they had a better chance to impose any action on the Kehrian sovereign. But the hardest decision remained—whose world should be liberated first; however, neither Antares nor Vindold were going to concede. They were ready to rival each other.

Devi stood up first and marched along the corridor, leading to the command centre. Only then the rest left their seats and headed towards the exit. Amongst the creatures of all four races, Antares spotted the tall Celestian in a blue cloak. They looked at each other, but Vindold did not stop. His face remained cold and uncongenial as if he wanted to say, we don’t like the same person, but don’t expect us to join hands and forge a great friendship.

Most of the rebel alliances ended in a similar manner. In the beginning, everyone was eager and open for a collaboration, but when it came to taking a decision about the target for the future attack, their friendship vaporised like a drop of water on a warm stone. If they weren’t dependent on Devi Kali and her money, individual and scattered rebel cells would have been wiped out by the Union forces a long time ago.

"Enemies of my enemies aren’t my friends at all," thought Antares, sizing up the Celestian with a far-reaching knowledgeable sight.