Sen frowned at the memory of the twice-dead corpse of Ritoru Dezain.

As he had pointed out on Josh’s first day aboard the Hegemon-4, reanimated bodies in the service of Necrolon were generally accepted for their usefulness by star-traveling societies. If the undead were collared with neuro-detonators, most spirit beings wouldn’t bat an eye at them. For those with the skills and the nanites to achieve activation, reanimates could serve most of the purposes AI mechanicals did.

It was undeniable that reanimates served vital functions when they were needed. They could work in hostile environs without the need for supplies. They boasted long-term survival in disease-riddled sectors without containment and sterilization equipment. They also provided service with moderate longevity in radiation-flooded compartments. The list of conveniences provided and practicality was lengthy.

Furthermore, given the associated costs, reanimates were always considered a viable alternative to AI mechanicals. Replacing damaged or destroyed reanimates was an order of magnitude less than repairs for mechs.

Ironically, the acceptance of reanimates by most advanced societies was evidence that spirit beings had short-term societal memories. No star-traveling culture even remembered that Necrolon literally meant soul slave of the dead master in its galaxy of origin.

Historical failings aside, it should not have required a logical jump to realize that the points which made reanimates valuable also made them a very inexpensive, simply created, and easily replaceable adversarial force.

To be fair, a handful of military historians and educators still remembered the threat that masses of reanimates posed. A few texts from before most galaxies were reseeded with life accurately told how living spirit beings were pushed to the brink of extinction. How Necrolon swarms had swept life from entire galaxy clusters. And never-ending waves of reanimates under the command of undead Commandants had obliterated all defenses and drowned the iteration in oceans of death.

They had relentlessly pursued life into the void when the spirit beings had fled in massive arks to the space between stars. The undead Commandants again crushed the living under avalanches of plunge-vessels.

It had been over two billion years since the undead Commandants had ruled the skies. But Sen knew about them. He had studied the spiritually risen and reanimated undead extensively across many iterations. After a moment of communication through their Karmic Bond on the run to the bridge, Josh did as well. Sen also gave him basic information on Nock-Liches, mega-amalgams, a few details he still needed to share concerning draugr, and of course, vampires as they kept running.

* * * * *

The space marines vectored from the Brigantine on their expanded X-wing kits and separated according to known abilities and preferences.

“Ishan, Lobo. You two split the battle space between you, sixty-forty. I’m going to look for targets of opportunity with my detonators to achieve our second objective. Break comm silence if you are getting overwhelmed.”

“I truly can’t fathom what you mean, ma’am. There are three fully trained and armed space marines here, clearly—two more than necessary.”

She checked her helmet’s review and saw Lobo and Ishan slamming knuckles at his last words as they split up. Ishan moved toward the high right of the battle space, Lobo to the low left. This was just their starting points, however. As always, their location would be fluid to minimize the effectiveness of large-area detonations.

“Roger that, Senior.” Alysa cut communication and prayed to her ancestors for their lives and performance. They were both far too valuable to lose in a battle against some two-bit undead who fancied himself the resurgence of a genuine Iterational-level threat.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“For the Hegemon!” She called.

“For the Hegemon!” They echoed.

Then she activated AI-enforced radio silence and began following the minimized emission protocols all space marines followed out of strategic necessity.

*****

To say Kyon Shi’s Necrolons had failed him would be an understatement.

23 percent of the reanimates and associated vessels in his fleets had already been destroyed. The vast majority of those losses had been cut down by those two accursed space marines before they had even crossed the void to the Brigantine! Staring out at the growing field of spinning wreckage mixed with the precious payload of their dismembered bodies had the spiritually risen undead mage grinding his teeth in frustration. Realizing his display, Kyon Shi stopped himself and closed his dried-out eyes to seek a calmer focus.

To be fair, this is the first time in a very long time a large undead force has been deployed this way. It’s unreasonable to assume that having a mere conceptual understanding of something as ominous as the Sky Commandant’s bombardment techniques would allow them to complete practical application without some hiccups...

But Kyon Shi was neither fair nor reasonable.

The pile of moldering Necrolon corpses littering the Dreadnought’s command deck was testimony to that.

It’s not even an actual punishment. Undeath is what they had all desired.

True, they had all served him in the hopes of being converted to spiritually risen undead to allow continued spiritual growth with the concurrent benefits of undeath. Not to have their existence narrowed to that of a mindless beasts subject to the whims of Kyon Shi and his intermediaries with no hope of advancement... But after today’s abysmal performance?

There is no way they would ever qualify for that honor.

After he had fed on their Essence, it was off to the reanimate pens for the lot of them. Hopefully, there they would accomplish more than their predecessors had.

The bodies began to stir. Rising at the direction of the newly promoted Necrolon leaders.

Orlen Biri, Kyon Shi’s chamberlain and a triply-Attuned spiritually risen servant, stood by, nodding to Kyon Shi’s latest orders. He adopted a praying pose with his four skeletal arms as a forked gray tongue flicked incessantly out between his bony mandibles tasting the freshly dead on the air.

“Yes, Great One. It will be done. I am as much to blame for the earlier failure as the others.” He knelt and exposed the back of his cervical spine to Kyon Shi.

Kyon Shi leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “As am I. But we are too valuable to punish, are we not?”

Kyon Shi’s critique was sharper than he had intended, and it proved just how frustrated he was with the failure of the Sky Commandant’s bombardment tactic so far. The ancient tales Xsias had encouraged him with were so vivid in their success. It surprised him how much he had expected immediate victory. Perhaps his successes had been coming too easily of late.

Have I been choosing goals and targets that are too easily achieved?

The thought was troubling. True growth in Cultivation would never be achieved without complete commitment and the taking risks that could amount to absolute failure. Kyon Shi’s second death. His thousands of standard galactic rotations had taught him that if nothing else. Only by reaching for goals that were beyond your grasp could Kyon Shi hope to walk in the steps of the Sky Commandant. Only with such risks would Kyon Shi receive a worthy and maximal reward from Balance for his earned Karma.

Advancement also required focus. The desiccated energy drainer took a moment to balance his mental equilibrium, and then continued. “Orlen, crushing these feeble wastlings is not about actual culpability. It is about continued fear in the ranks of our servants. Even I—” Kyon Shi rolled his hand in the air to indicate there was no higher authority—“had no idea how effective the plunge bombardment would be. Think of our actions so far as simply testing the instigation threshold for the effective propagation of the Sky Commandant’s bombardment tactic.” He leaned in and the dead muscles of his tight face bunched up in anger. “But I do grow weary of waiting for results. I am also eager to harvest my new playthings.”

The usual evil gleam in his opaque eyes returned at the thought of destroying the spirit of that arrogant human that had cost him Dezain’s dead carcass and all the undead fire Kyon Shi had invested in it. Doubly attuned bodies are not easy to come by after all!

“Once I have adequately broken them in, these two human Cultivators will significantly expand my capabilities. Their wills are strong, Orlen! The strongest escaped my mental-feeding skill in seconds with a novel formation of his mental shield.” Kyon Shi spoke as if a proud father watching a favored child compete in a sporting event.

The chamberlain looked up in surprise. It had taken Orlen a thousand years to form his mental shield and he still could not form one to resist his master’s skills.

Kyon Shi nodded. “Oh yes! Adding them to my service will make this entire fiasco worth the costs paid out but, to properly break them, I need to capture and shatter their playthings. When I was in their minds, I noted their strange bond with the female space marine Dezain originally captured. Almost a dependence... bring me that space marine, alive! Once we have her I will give you details on how we will capture them using her as bait. From there we will get back on track and crush the Kaizuko. Completely eliminating the loose ends from the Hegemon-4 attack that can lead the Clone to us.”

Having ordered it, Kyon Shi sat back on his throne as if it had already been done and flexed his mindscape to its maximum twenty-five-thousand-kilometer range as was his habit when contemplative... and there she was!

He raised his hand to get Orlen’s attention. “Just crush the Kaizuko. I will take care of the first order.”

Orlen Biri bowed so low the thick black cloak and cowl hooding his head touched the ground in front of him. “I will make it so.”