Beyond the Crescent Horizon...


"Vlad't'p't'i?" the voice behind Varro Kai asked and the Task Master of the Steps, the space known as Across, turned to the Most Holy Lohr and hid his irritation at yet another attempt at some false reconciliation.

"Vlad't'p't'i" he responded with a smirk that remained off his voice but was evident in his eyes. Even as the words spilled from his mouth he felt their distaste. The Cree Ar within the galaxy were remaking it one planet at a time according to their image, the chosen of Borleas and as a result his people had forsaken the functional dialect that he had come to prefer in favor of the old tongue. A return to the tongue of the old paradise.

Entaro, Kai!

Still, it had taken an entire night with the vastly incomplete maps provided by the High Judicator, Grand Judicator, Master Judicator or God Judicator (depending on whom one spoke too) Kal Shora to come to an appropriate out of the way location to serve as his refuge.

The Crescent Horizon, Vlad't'p't'i (meaning "secret" in the old tongue) would serve. It was not a common designation but one he simpy made up and given to the Most Holy.

It would be useful.

As the Task Master of the Steps, he had expected to take his place in the Council of Judicators but found his expected promotion blocked by none other than Lohr of the Religious Caste. The old fool seemed like a boil that would not shrivel up and die.

When Varro Kai had confronted the wiley old Cree Ar he had taken the pious route and claimed the Bringers of Fire served the will of Borleas as interpreted by those highly placed by the Religious Caste. Upon his arrival in this infidel galaxy, Varro Kai found himself among both treacherous and envious ranks of the Bringers of Fire and the Warrior Caste and Religious Caste at odds. The Most Holy Lohr came to the galaxy only to find his Most Holy Varex Tarien in disfavor with the Grand Judicator Kal Shora. And as Kal Shora's star rose, Tarien disappeared under it's shadow.

The Most Holy Lohr made a gamble attaching the Task Master Kai to his purpose in those arenas that politics battled and Kal Shora withheld rank to Varro Kai reluctant to raise anyone who commanded the ear of the Priests. But the Grand Judicator, shrewd as always, allowed the Task Master to retain his force which kept the priests suspicious and so the Most Holy Lohr began to attach to Varro Kai's fleet vessels piloted by Skey'g'aar. And if that was not bad enough, Skey'g'aar loyal to Lohr.



And so here he found himself.

Vlad't'p't'i

His aging craft and loyal crew who would rise or fall on the decisions he would make while treading the minefield set by the warriors and priests.

To the right of his force of three Arbiters and a fighting force of ten of his trusty old Ja'Mha Rerodon-class Light Cruisers, an older shield ship and a sprinkling of the Clawcraft traveled the Priest Caste-sponsored warships, twenty Attack Cruisers with their brainwashed Nexus utilities bringing up the rear with the newer Incisor fighters. To the left, not to be outdone, the High Judicator had sent five of the fancy Ardor Cruisers, which the Judicator, in a calculated slight as he technically outranked Varro Kai, that Kal Shora selected to accompany the Task Master chose to use as his flagship.

Surrounded by those of his people that would sooner see him as a victim in their political maneuverings than as a potential ally earned them his contempt. And yet, as long as he held the Arbiters he was in control of this fleet, such as it was.

His flagship was not noticeably different than his other cruisers and so friend and foe alike would always be off guard as to which vessel Varro Kai used to lead the pack from. A necessary deception for what he planned next.

His only regret was that the Most Holy Lohr had seen fit not to accompany his own ships but remain close to the Task Master.

He probably fears me going over to Kal Shora just as Kal Shora fears me going over to the Priests.

He checked the time units and knew the moment approached.

Nipeten Chan'zih'mar stood happily on the crest of a Junction hill. Nipeten was not a Cree'Ar known for being happy. Some Cree'Ar under his command wonder about this. Was he abused as a nestling? Was he given a harder time than most during his training? No one on Jha'ma cruiser, the Zic'tah really knows. Regardless, Nipeten was happy today.

Conquest is sweet.

Below the hill was valley. In the valley, was the last city on Junction containing unassimilated vat'a'leg'a. An army of newly converted soldiers. You could tell they green easily. Most of them were practically naked. Others were wearing the same clothes that they had been originally captured. The soldiers didn't realize this though. They were controled by the Nexus now. By the time Junction (soon to be renamed) was secured, this new crop of soldiers will have earned their veterancy.

Nipeten watched as a one of them ripped a loose piece of plasteel off of a still smoldering Junction combat vehicle. He used some loose rope to tie to his chest as a makeshift cuirass. He did not seem to notice that the metal was still hot and burning his hands. A true product of the Nexus he was. In time, the fanactical soldier's entire body would become a collage of armor plating and scar tissue.

Nipeten turned to the east. An ugly yellow sun was rising above the horizon.

Ugly ball of light.

The yellow sun played tricks with his eyes. It was not the familiar color spectrum simulated on ships of the Cree'Ar. The entire planet seemed to have an ugly yellow tint.

How I long for a red sun to warm my skin...

The hill that he stood seperated two valleys. In the other valley, stood another city. Cree'Ar intelligence had told them the two cities had been great production rivals.

He could already see the Nexus at work there. Buildings, vehicles, and corpses all being brought back to there basic elemental forms.

Suddenly Nipeten was severed from his chain of thought.

"Adjutant Chan’zih’mar, survivors of our assault are attempting to make a run for the wilderness."

"Send one of the crack Parrow Lin battalions after them to make rin’t’aar.

Nipeten adjusted his rank belt, moved his command cloak out of his way, and then left the hill.

His conquest neared completion.

Nipeten stood in the valley that had only belonged to his enemies hours before, watching.

Two lines branched off from one large line. One line went into one building, and the other line into another building. The large line marched onward into a large ship. The left branch contained the gruesomely wounded. The other branch was different. It was of the strong. These aliens had killed ten Parrow Lin for everyone of their dead. These two lines had one more difference. The strong would fight again, under a different banner of course, but the wounded… The wounded would not leave that building recognizable.

Two Parrow Lin carried one of the dead to a large pile. Even though they had fought together with their dead comrade for many months, they cared not for this crude end. There was a good chance that the two soldiers would later subsidize on their fallen squad mate’s basic building blocks. Nipeten watched as one of the new “conscripts” walk towards building. How he was still functioning Nipeten was not sure. Part of his arm was missing, and blood leaked from the stub.

The line entering the second building was different in almost every way. The soldiers and citizens of Junction marched proudly to what they were sure would be their execution. They left almost the same way. Except for two things. There eyes, they seemed to radiate blankness. Also, the way they walked, the new, unknowing fanatics walked almost slumped over.

One of the Parrow Lin stepped out of the line and walked over to Nipeten.

Saluting, he said, “Adjutant Chan’zih’mar, you me to your presence?”

“Yes commander, I did. Your warriors performed well today except for the causality ratio.”

The adjutant really did not care about the commander’s soldiers. They were only Parrow Lin after all, tools given to him by the Nexus to perform his duties. This kill ratio was just rare, and someone would have to answer for it.

“The gentiles holding the mountain pass fought knowing they would not see the next rotation of their planet around their ugly yellow sun.

Nipeten pondered this behavior.

The must fight harder when they know it is the end.

The Parrow Lin went on, “especially the humans. They are not the strongest, but they are clever, hitting us at our weak flanks.”

“Very well commander. Return to your battalion.”



Later on board the Zic'tah

Adjutant Chan'zih'mar's fleet moved towards the wormhole that would exit them out of the Junction system.

A small portion of Nipeten’s fleet would stay behind at Junction. The rest would continue on.