Telshak Plains
Ghorah Khar II
Kruq’nov peered out across the open plain from his fox hole, checking for any movement. In a way, it reminded him of his army days. In another way, it was totally different. On Ghorah Khar, there was fresh food to be caught, water was plentiful and the air was not laced with toxins. At least it was not at the moment. That could change at any time. If he did not win this little war soon, the Shrekhar might get desperate enough to unleash home-brewed chemical weapons. He did not foresee that to be a major problem as long as he and his army stayed up wind.
Telshak always had a constant breeze flowing over it. At the moment, it blew the millions of blades of grass towards the north, in the general direction of his enemy. After dislodging the Shrekhar from the previous two towns, Kruq’nov expected a counter-attack in force. He was determined not to allow this war to see-saw like the war on Repleetah. He and his three octave warriors would wait until the Shrekhar militia marched south to retake the towns.
Kruq’nov did not capture those two towns by accident. The enemy had no choice but to retake them in order to strike back at M’krah. Thanks to that, Kruq’nov was able to decide where the battle would take place and make best use of the land. Even if the Shrekhar fielded twice as many warriors, the ambush would annihilate them.
“As long as they don’t use tanks,” Nrsah muttered as he joined his brother in observing.
Kruq’nov lowered his field glasses long enough to glare at Nrsah. “Here everyone thought you were the cheerful of the Kings.”
Nrsah shook his head, ruffling his scraggly mane. “We have far more to lose now than when we first stepped foot on this planet.”
“Indeed,” Kruq’nov agreed. “Don’t worry brother; I have taken armored vehicles into account.” Across the plain, in the path he would funnel the Shrekhar, he ordered electromagnetic mines buried. If any machine passed over them, the EM field they generated would set off the explosion. “I trust you did not crawl into my hole to shower me with pessimism.”
“I regret to say no, I have not,” Nrsah pulled a message from a pocket in his armor and handed it to Kruq’nov. “Word from home. The females of our Pride and the Mercher talk of a union.”
Kruq’nov snatched the message and read it. His brows bristled as he read. He did not like the idea of sharing the Pride females with anyone, but if such a union was to hold then the next generations must all be sisters—or at least cousins. Blood ties are different for the females than for warriors. Kruq’nov and Nrsah are brothers because they shed blood together in combat. Keitcha and Shelcha were sisters because the same blood flowed within their veins.
Kruq’nov understood the reasoning behind it, but that did not mean he liked the idea. “What do you think of this?”
Nrsah’s jaw dropped in a smile. “More females, what’s not to like?”
Kruq’nov growled. Nrsah had a point, but his point went both ways. “That’s probably what the Mercher Kings are thinking.”
Nrsah cocked his head for a second. “I know what’s wrong; you just don’t want to share your lair-“
“As far as I know, there are three other males who may have mated with Keitcha, and they are all dead,” Kruq’nov cut him off. “Consider that fact, brother, before finishing your statement.”
Nrsah slammed his mouth shut and held his tongue. He knew that was the problem, or at least part of it. Had his favorite survived the bombing, Nrsah would not share her either. No doubt Knarthi and Revahr had their own favorites. Motion off in the distance removed Nrsah’s mind from thoughts of female politics. Motion did not alarm him as much as its position did. “I hope you foresaw that.”
Kruq’nov turned back towards the plains and scanned the horizon. He hissed when he spotted dots on the horizon growing rapidly in size. Bringing his field glasses to his eyes, Kruq’nov counted two-eight gunships flying over the savanna. Even low flying gunships would remain too high to fall victim to mines. “If I were one of the high-and-mighty officers back on Repleetah, we might be in trouble right now. Fortunately, I foresaw this eventuality as well.” He reached up and tapped his ear piece. “Knarthi, you have incoming.”
“Acknowledged,” came the clipped response.
Nrsah gazed up into the clear sky. “I wonder if they foresaw it.”
Kruq’nov glanced back at the Shrekhar gunships. “We’ll know soon enough.”
Kruq’nov admired the speed at which his Mercher allies took to the air. Their gunships were not the sharp-edged killers that the Shrekhar bought offworld. Instead, they were atmospheric transports fitted with hard points and sensors. They would not stand up against any proper Imperial fighter in combat, but neither would standard gunships. All the Mercher aircraft needed to do was stay aloft long enough to fire their missiles, which they managed to do.
Seconds too late, the Shrekhar gunships scattered like panicked herd of antelope. Two of them collided in mid-air, saving Kruq’nov the trouble of having them killed later. Both gunships fell to the ground, a jumbled mess of metal and flame. Each explosive impact rocked the ground beneath Kruq’nov feet. Splashed fool quickly ignited, spreading the fires across the plains. Kruq’nov growled in displeasure as he watched the fire spread. There would not be much hunting done here any time soon.
“Did they not even bother to bring missiles?” Nrsah wondered as he watched the Shrekhar gallop away in five different directions.
Kruq’nov was not surprised by the revelation. He only wished he could have saved the surprise for a later date. The next time the Shrekhar strike, they will come properly armed. At least the warriors transported inside would not have a second chance. Three of the gunships exploded on contact with white contrails. Most of the remainder soon followed. One of the gunships managed to escape the frenzy as the FF missile originally intended for it jumped its track and slammed into another gunship, one that was already falling from the sky.
Two Mercher ships pursued the Shrekhar, opening up on it with makeshift weapons. A real chain gun or autocannon would have made short work of the retreating gunship. Like with everything else in this little war, Kruq’nov’s side lacked proper or real weapons. He only held a proper plasma rifle because he took it off a dead Shrekhar. The next time he saw the smuggler, he would have to learn if any heavy Terran weapons were available.
Brekhar
Ghorah Khar II
“Report!” Kruq’nov bellowed as he pushed his way through a knot of warriors congregating near the center of Brekhar. What was once a thriving hub of commerce between the three big cities of the planet now lay a battered and bloodied town. Every building in sight had a chunk blow out of it and off in the distance he could see the once tall spire of a temple broken in half. Kruq’nov wondered which side caused that damage.
A few of the warriors worried over the portent of a damaged temple, but not Kruq’nov. After his time in the trenches, he decided the gods long since abandoned the Kilrathi. Had his race their favor, then the Ape War would have long since ended. It probably would have ended before his birth. In that case, the Pride King had no idea what he would be doing right now. Not fighting a minor war for dominance of a whole planet, that was for certain.
If not for the war, the Kilrah might not even care about the planet. They certainly would not need those cursed crystals. Kruq’nov growled and grumbled every time he thought about those. Not knowing what they were for was like an itch at the back of his mind. Perhaps his next move should be to take the mines, capture the people in charge and extract that knowledge from them. The Kilrah were not in the habit of telling those beneath them any more than they need to know, but perhaps a skilled and knowledgeable engineer was currently on hand.
“Lord Kruq’nov!” Martef turned to face his overall commander; the young warrior’s make-shift uniform looked like it seen a few days in the trenches. He was born in Brekhar and lived here most of his life. Like all of the officers in the M’krah-Mercher militia, he had seen his share of fighting against the Terrans. He was an artillery thrower that claimed to have served on one of the Empire’s continental siege engines. Kruq’nov had to admit a massive vehicle that could hurl shells on sub-orbital trajectories would be quite useful right now.
Kruq’nov eyed Martef. Like most warriors who served in artillery he sported only a handful of battle scars. One gash across his jaw was a new one, earned in the fighting for his home town. “I have good news and bad. The good is that we have the Shrekhar and their lackeys pinned up in those two warehouses.”
Kruq’nov followed where Martef pointed. There were only two warehouses standing in the area with minimal damage. They were large, squat structures suitable only for holding bulk goods. Eights of holes shot into each building provided perfect locations for snipers and auto-cannons. Between the two buildings were structures of lower integrity. A few of the buildings collapsed completely. That left a clear view for covering fire for each of the warehouses.
“And the bad news,” Kruq’nov cut off the officer’s explanation. “Is that any time you try to move to surrounding one warehouse, part of the militia is trapped in a cross fire.”
“Yes, my lord,” Martef admitted. He did not like to admit his own failings. He was the one who organized the attack that split the force. “And if we strike only one side, then the enemy can retreat to the other building, making it more difficult to capture the structure.”
Kruq’nov’s eyes narrowed and ears flattened at the sound of excuses. “What is in those warehouses other than Shrekhar?”
Martef point towards his left. “Textiles, leather and such fabrics readied for export. The other I’m not sure. Foodstuffs if the owner’s manifest is to be believed.”
“Throw all our forces at the food stores,” Kruq’nov ordered. “We need that for the war effort more than fabrics.”
“Begging your pardon, Lord Kruq’nov, but that would only force the Shrekhar to retreat to the other building.” The young officer repeated
“I have ears,” Kruq’nov snapped. He tapped on the communication unit at his ear. “Nrsah?”
After a few seconds and crackle of static, Nrsah replied. “What is it, brother?”
“Find Knarthi. Tell him I’m going to need a large building flattened soon.” Kruq’nov glanced over at Martef, who appeared ready to venture a protest. A glare as cold as space silenced the young warrior. He could appreciate Martef’s aversion to large-scale property damage in his home town, but it could always be rebuilt, unlike themselves if they lose this war.
Servar Hills
Ghorah Khar II
Kruq’nov peered across the valley at the distant mountains. From his vantage point on the other side of the horizon those mountains did not look overly impressive. A casual observer might not think much of it. Even without the intelligence report in his hand, he knew those mountains to be the most heavily fortified position on the planet. They were not Shrekhar holdings. Those mountains were under the direct control of the Kilrah Pride. For not the first time, Kruq’nov cursed those crystals sitting beneath the mountain.
If there was any possibility of kicking the Empire off his planet, he would have to tackle those mountains. The city of Shrekhar was of secondary importance at the moment. The rival Pride was nowhere near as heavily armed as an Imperial Legion, even one at a fraction of full combat strength. He turned his view up into the cloudy sky. Word of the war must have reached Kilrah by now.
“Waiting for the other hunter to pounce?” Nrsah asked as he turned his view into the sky.
Kruq’nov barely heard his brother approach, so wrapped up in his thoughts. He scolded himself for such a lapse. If an enemy assassin wanted him dead, he might have managed with that sort of lapse. Kruq’nov growled in disapproval, causing Nrsah to take a step back. “It is not you that angers me, brother,” he said, noticing Nrsah reaction. “Yes, I am waiting for the other hunter. Our recent advances have been too smoothly for my tastes.”
Since taking Brekhar, the M’krah and Mercher militia advanced across the land at an astonishing pace. The Shrekhar limped back to their stronghold and surrounding countryside, licking their wounds. Kruq’nov did not believe for a second they were defeated. The enemy was waiting, biding their time while reinforcements came from the stars. He could not help but wonder where the reinforcements would come from and what front would suffer. Maybe he would get lucky and the rebellion would draw enough forces from the front so the Apes and the Eight could wipe each other out. The rest of Kilrathi civilization would be far better off without either.
“This struggle is far from over,” Kruq’nov wondered how he could move across the valley without detection. The short answer was that he probably could not. Would the Kilrah defending the mines meet him in battle in the open or wait until the militia starting marching uphill to attack?
“This one is, but another is concluded,” Nrsah declared, catching Kruq’nov’s interest.
“The Apes have fallen?” he asked, knowing it was not true.
Nrsah laughed. “One could wish. They are like vermin; you kill some here only to have more appear over there. No, this is a message from the home front.” Nrsah handed a sheet of smart paper to Kruq’nov.
Kruq’nov started to read the message, only to stop once his eyes ran across who sent it. “This is a joke?”
“A joke?” Nrsah cocked his head. “I don’t think the Matriarch has much of sense of humor.”
“Matriarch indeed. ‘To Lord Kruq’nov, from Gherelith nar M’krah-Mercher.’ You realize what this means.” Kruq’nov found it hard to believe that a merger between Prides could happen so smoothly, quickly and bloodlessly.
“We have more females to service?” Nrsah asked with a smile.
Kruq’nov snorted, reminding Nrsah that the Mercher junior King might be saying the same thing. “It means our Pride is now the most powerful on the planet. The only thing between our Pride and the name of Ghorah Khar Pride are the Shrekhar.” In all his days, Kruq’nov would never imagine himself as a King of an entire planet. Why should he? He was born to a low ranking Pride, and solo. Unlike most of his race, Kruq’nov was born alone. He wondered what caused it at times. It could not be genetic; all of his offspring were born in pairs.
“We sure have come a long way from the Trenches,” Nrsah said with a less than enthusiastic tone.
Kruq’nov understood what was not said. They could and would defeat the Shrekhar and take the planet. However, it was one thing to take a world and quite another to hold it. Maybe it would all end in fire and his Pride would be wiped out by the Kilrah. They would strike back eventually, even if the planet was not rich in crystals that could not easily be synthetically produced. Kruq’nov turned his attention again towards the horizon, a habit that dated back to his army days. Those mountains would fall and he would finally learn why those stones were so important.
Ghorah Khar II
Kruq’nov peered out across the open plain from his fox hole, checking for any movement. In a way, it reminded him of his army days. In another way, it was totally different. On Ghorah Khar, there was fresh food to be caught, water was plentiful and the air was not laced with toxins. At least it was not at the moment. That could change at any time. If he did not win this little war soon, the Shrekhar might get desperate enough to unleash home-brewed chemical weapons. He did not foresee that to be a major problem as long as he and his army stayed up wind.
Telshak always had a constant breeze flowing over it. At the moment, it blew the millions of blades of grass towards the north, in the general direction of his enemy. After dislodging the Shrekhar from the previous two towns, Kruq’nov expected a counter-attack in force. He was determined not to allow this war to see-saw like the war on Repleetah. He and his three octave warriors would wait until the Shrekhar militia marched south to retake the towns.
Kruq’nov did not capture those two towns by accident. The enemy had no choice but to retake them in order to strike back at M’krah. Thanks to that, Kruq’nov was able to decide where the battle would take place and make best use of the land. Even if the Shrekhar fielded twice as many warriors, the ambush would annihilate them.
“As long as they don’t use tanks,” Nrsah muttered as he joined his brother in observing.
Kruq’nov lowered his field glasses long enough to glare at Nrsah. “Here everyone thought you were the cheerful of the Kings.”
Nrsah shook his head, ruffling his scraggly mane. “We have far more to lose now than when we first stepped foot on this planet.”
“Indeed,” Kruq’nov agreed. “Don’t worry brother; I have taken armored vehicles into account.” Across the plain, in the path he would funnel the Shrekhar, he ordered electromagnetic mines buried. If any machine passed over them, the EM field they generated would set off the explosion. “I trust you did not crawl into my hole to shower me with pessimism.”
“I regret to say no, I have not,” Nrsah pulled a message from a pocket in his armor and handed it to Kruq’nov. “Word from home. The females of our Pride and the Mercher talk of a union.”
Kruq’nov snatched the message and read it. His brows bristled as he read. He did not like the idea of sharing the Pride females with anyone, but if such a union was to hold then the next generations must all be sisters—or at least cousins. Blood ties are different for the females than for warriors. Kruq’nov and Nrsah are brothers because they shed blood together in combat. Keitcha and Shelcha were sisters because the same blood flowed within their veins.
Kruq’nov understood the reasoning behind it, but that did not mean he liked the idea. “What do you think of this?”
Nrsah’s jaw dropped in a smile. “More females, what’s not to like?”
Kruq’nov growled. Nrsah had a point, but his point went both ways. “That’s probably what the Mercher Kings are thinking.”
Nrsah cocked his head for a second. “I know what’s wrong; you just don’t want to share your lair-“
“As far as I know, there are three other males who may have mated with Keitcha, and they are all dead,” Kruq’nov cut him off. “Consider that fact, brother, before finishing your statement.”
Nrsah slammed his mouth shut and held his tongue. He knew that was the problem, or at least part of it. Had his favorite survived the bombing, Nrsah would not share her either. No doubt Knarthi and Revahr had their own favorites. Motion off in the distance removed Nrsah’s mind from thoughts of female politics. Motion did not alarm him as much as its position did. “I hope you foresaw that.”
Kruq’nov turned back towards the plains and scanned the horizon. He hissed when he spotted dots on the horizon growing rapidly in size. Bringing his field glasses to his eyes, Kruq’nov counted two-eight gunships flying over the savanna. Even low flying gunships would remain too high to fall victim to mines. “If I were one of the high-and-mighty officers back on Repleetah, we might be in trouble right now. Fortunately, I foresaw this eventuality as well.” He reached up and tapped his ear piece. “Knarthi, you have incoming.”
“Acknowledged,” came the clipped response.
Nrsah gazed up into the clear sky. “I wonder if they foresaw it.”
Kruq’nov glanced back at the Shrekhar gunships. “We’ll know soon enough.”
Kruq’nov admired the speed at which his Mercher allies took to the air. Their gunships were not the sharp-edged killers that the Shrekhar bought offworld. Instead, they were atmospheric transports fitted with hard points and sensors. They would not stand up against any proper Imperial fighter in combat, but neither would standard gunships. All the Mercher aircraft needed to do was stay aloft long enough to fire their missiles, which they managed to do.
Seconds too late, the Shrekhar gunships scattered like panicked herd of antelope. Two of them collided in mid-air, saving Kruq’nov the trouble of having them killed later. Both gunships fell to the ground, a jumbled mess of metal and flame. Each explosive impact rocked the ground beneath Kruq’nov feet. Splashed fool quickly ignited, spreading the fires across the plains. Kruq’nov growled in displeasure as he watched the fire spread. There would not be much hunting done here any time soon.
“Did they not even bother to bring missiles?” Nrsah wondered as he watched the Shrekhar gallop away in five different directions.
Kruq’nov was not surprised by the revelation. He only wished he could have saved the surprise for a later date. The next time the Shrekhar strike, they will come properly armed. At least the warriors transported inside would not have a second chance. Three of the gunships exploded on contact with white contrails. Most of the remainder soon followed. One of the gunships managed to escape the frenzy as the FF missile originally intended for it jumped its track and slammed into another gunship, one that was already falling from the sky.
Two Mercher ships pursued the Shrekhar, opening up on it with makeshift weapons. A real chain gun or autocannon would have made short work of the retreating gunship. Like with everything else in this little war, Kruq’nov’s side lacked proper or real weapons. He only held a proper plasma rifle because he took it off a dead Shrekhar. The next time he saw the smuggler, he would have to learn if any heavy Terran weapons were available.
Brekhar
Ghorah Khar II
“Report!” Kruq’nov bellowed as he pushed his way through a knot of warriors congregating near the center of Brekhar. What was once a thriving hub of commerce between the three big cities of the planet now lay a battered and bloodied town. Every building in sight had a chunk blow out of it and off in the distance he could see the once tall spire of a temple broken in half. Kruq’nov wondered which side caused that damage.
A few of the warriors worried over the portent of a damaged temple, but not Kruq’nov. After his time in the trenches, he decided the gods long since abandoned the Kilrathi. Had his race their favor, then the Ape War would have long since ended. It probably would have ended before his birth. In that case, the Pride King had no idea what he would be doing right now. Not fighting a minor war for dominance of a whole planet, that was for certain.
If not for the war, the Kilrah might not even care about the planet. They certainly would not need those cursed crystals. Kruq’nov growled and grumbled every time he thought about those. Not knowing what they were for was like an itch at the back of his mind. Perhaps his next move should be to take the mines, capture the people in charge and extract that knowledge from them. The Kilrah were not in the habit of telling those beneath them any more than they need to know, but perhaps a skilled and knowledgeable engineer was currently on hand.
“Lord Kruq’nov!” Martef turned to face his overall commander; the young warrior’s make-shift uniform looked like it seen a few days in the trenches. He was born in Brekhar and lived here most of his life. Like all of the officers in the M’krah-Mercher militia, he had seen his share of fighting against the Terrans. He was an artillery thrower that claimed to have served on one of the Empire’s continental siege engines. Kruq’nov had to admit a massive vehicle that could hurl shells on sub-orbital trajectories would be quite useful right now.
Kruq’nov eyed Martef. Like most warriors who served in artillery he sported only a handful of battle scars. One gash across his jaw was a new one, earned in the fighting for his home town. “I have good news and bad. The good is that we have the Shrekhar and their lackeys pinned up in those two warehouses.”
Kruq’nov followed where Martef pointed. There were only two warehouses standing in the area with minimal damage. They were large, squat structures suitable only for holding bulk goods. Eights of holes shot into each building provided perfect locations for snipers and auto-cannons. Between the two buildings were structures of lower integrity. A few of the buildings collapsed completely. That left a clear view for covering fire for each of the warehouses.
“And the bad news,” Kruq’nov cut off the officer’s explanation. “Is that any time you try to move to surrounding one warehouse, part of the militia is trapped in a cross fire.”
“Yes, my lord,” Martef admitted. He did not like to admit his own failings. He was the one who organized the attack that split the force. “And if we strike only one side, then the enemy can retreat to the other building, making it more difficult to capture the structure.”
Kruq’nov’s eyes narrowed and ears flattened at the sound of excuses. “What is in those warehouses other than Shrekhar?”
Martef point towards his left. “Textiles, leather and such fabrics readied for export. The other I’m not sure. Foodstuffs if the owner’s manifest is to be believed.”
“Throw all our forces at the food stores,” Kruq’nov ordered. “We need that for the war effort more than fabrics.”
“Begging your pardon, Lord Kruq’nov, but that would only force the Shrekhar to retreat to the other building.” The young officer repeated
“I have ears,” Kruq’nov snapped. He tapped on the communication unit at his ear. “Nrsah?”
After a few seconds and crackle of static, Nrsah replied. “What is it, brother?”
“Find Knarthi. Tell him I’m going to need a large building flattened soon.” Kruq’nov glanced over at Martef, who appeared ready to venture a protest. A glare as cold as space silenced the young warrior. He could appreciate Martef’s aversion to large-scale property damage in his home town, but it could always be rebuilt, unlike themselves if they lose this war.
Servar Hills
Ghorah Khar II
Kruq’nov peered across the valley at the distant mountains. From his vantage point on the other side of the horizon those mountains did not look overly impressive. A casual observer might not think much of it. Even without the intelligence report in his hand, he knew those mountains to be the most heavily fortified position on the planet. They were not Shrekhar holdings. Those mountains were under the direct control of the Kilrah Pride. For not the first time, Kruq’nov cursed those crystals sitting beneath the mountain.
If there was any possibility of kicking the Empire off his planet, he would have to tackle those mountains. The city of Shrekhar was of secondary importance at the moment. The rival Pride was nowhere near as heavily armed as an Imperial Legion, even one at a fraction of full combat strength. He turned his view up into the cloudy sky. Word of the war must have reached Kilrah by now.
“Waiting for the other hunter to pounce?” Nrsah asked as he turned his view into the sky.
Kruq’nov barely heard his brother approach, so wrapped up in his thoughts. He scolded himself for such a lapse. If an enemy assassin wanted him dead, he might have managed with that sort of lapse. Kruq’nov growled in disapproval, causing Nrsah to take a step back. “It is not you that angers me, brother,” he said, noticing Nrsah reaction. “Yes, I am waiting for the other hunter. Our recent advances have been too smoothly for my tastes.”
Since taking Brekhar, the M’krah and Mercher militia advanced across the land at an astonishing pace. The Shrekhar limped back to their stronghold and surrounding countryside, licking their wounds. Kruq’nov did not believe for a second they were defeated. The enemy was waiting, biding their time while reinforcements came from the stars. He could not help but wonder where the reinforcements would come from and what front would suffer. Maybe he would get lucky and the rebellion would draw enough forces from the front so the Apes and the Eight could wipe each other out. The rest of Kilrathi civilization would be far better off without either.
“This struggle is far from over,” Kruq’nov wondered how he could move across the valley without detection. The short answer was that he probably could not. Would the Kilrah defending the mines meet him in battle in the open or wait until the militia starting marching uphill to attack?
“This one is, but another is concluded,” Nrsah declared, catching Kruq’nov’s interest.
“The Apes have fallen?” he asked, knowing it was not true.
Nrsah laughed. “One could wish. They are like vermin; you kill some here only to have more appear over there. No, this is a message from the home front.” Nrsah handed a sheet of smart paper to Kruq’nov.
Kruq’nov started to read the message, only to stop once his eyes ran across who sent it. “This is a joke?”
“A joke?” Nrsah cocked his head. “I don’t think the Matriarch has much of sense of humor.”
“Matriarch indeed. ‘To Lord Kruq’nov, from Gherelith nar M’krah-Mercher.’ You realize what this means.” Kruq’nov found it hard to believe that a merger between Prides could happen so smoothly, quickly and bloodlessly.
“We have more females to service?” Nrsah asked with a smile.
Kruq’nov snorted, reminding Nrsah that the Mercher junior King might be saying the same thing. “It means our Pride is now the most powerful on the planet. The only thing between our Pride and the name of Ghorah Khar Pride are the Shrekhar.” In all his days, Kruq’nov would never imagine himself as a King of an entire planet. Why should he? He was born to a low ranking Pride, and solo. Unlike most of his race, Kruq’nov was born alone. He wondered what caused it at times. It could not be genetic; all of his offspring were born in pairs.
“We sure have come a long way from the Trenches,” Nrsah said with a less than enthusiastic tone.
Kruq’nov understood what was not said. They could and would defeat the Shrekhar and take the planet. However, it was one thing to take a world and quite another to hold it. Maybe it would all end in fire and his Pride would be wiped out by the Kilrah. They would strike back eventually, even if the planet was not rich in crystals that could not easily be synthetically produced. Kruq’nov turned his attention again towards the horizon, a habit that dated back to his army days. Those mountains would fall and he would finally learn why those stones were so important.