Krezolgok was wheezing between rattling breaths as he watched his opponent. He was nearing his limits, he knew it and soon he would follow the others of his pack in their eternal hunt.

  He had given his all in this fight against Fast Claw. In the beginning they not only clashed on the clearing but chased each other through the surrounding forest while jumping between trees. Now much of the finesse was gone and the tempo somewhat reduced. They were both spent, but while Krez could barely remain standing, his foe was much better off.

  Before the fight even started Krez knew that the other Zulbano was stronger than him, was better equipped and had more training from his Alpha. And yet he, Krezolgok the fallen Bultaz, at least managed to put up a proper fight for a time. He was proud of that.

  Fast Claw lived up to his name and attacked with a flurry of quick and strong swipes of his enhanced claws, relentlessly forcing Krez to be on the defense and block as much as possible while tanking the rest with his armored suit.

  Now, minutes into the fight - or has it been hours already? - his strength waned and the suit showed serious signs of wear and tear.

  “You may have lost even your status as lowly Bultaz, Krezolgok the nameless, but you are fighting like a true Zulbano, honoring your ancestry and not bringing more shame to the clan.” Fast Claw said, his voice more a guttural growl than anything else.

  “I’m not… done yet…!” Krez wheezed defiantly.

  “Yes, you are.” The other Zulbano said, “Let’s bring this fight to an end. Leave this world knowing that you lived up to the clan’s expectations at the end. Good luck with your eternal hunt, may you find the members of your pack on the other side.”

  Krez growled, trying not to think about the implications of what he had just heard about his pack, and readied himself for their next exchange. He wanted to draw blood at least once. But before Fast Claw could rush at him, another voice suddenly interrupted the tense atmosphere.

  “‘Good luck with your eternal hunt’? Damn, what kind of bullshit punchline is that? Do you want him to fail his defense because of embarrassment or what?”

  Krez’s stance faltered and his eyes went wide when he heard the voice from the female human and he had to concentrate hard to not turn around and look in her direction. Though, he probably would have had the time since his opponent seemed to be as thrown off as he was by her sudden appearance.

  “What are you doing here, human? Where is Fierce Blood?” Fast Claw hissed angrily.

  “Oh, your fellow hunter? Yeah, I guess he is already working on his ‘eternal hunt’. Though, he at least went out with a grin on his face, talking about the honor of a warrior.”

  “Bullshit!” Fast Claw spat, “You’ve teamed up with the other prey to kill him, didn’t you? There is no honor in such a fight!”

  Krez had positioned himself just in time to see the human, Alena, stopping at the edge of the forest. Her face turned cold as she looked at Fast Claw.

  “Careful, dogo!” She hissed, “Do not smear my reputation or blemish the honor of a duel between warriors or I swear to the gods that I’ll ignore my friend’s wishes and kill you myself right now!”

  Krez was taken aback by her words, just like Fast Claw. She sounded genuine and really seemed to take these accusations personally. However, unlike the other Zulbano, Krez knew a little bit about the female and he had seen her fight before. He did respect her somewhat and could even acknowledge her as a fellow warrior, but defeating a Zulbano in a fair duel? No way.

  Before he could think more about this, the human addressed him, her voice still sounding angry.

  “Damn Krez, you look like shit! You even ruined the suit the Captain gifted you. Didn’t you promise me to make this a proper fight? That you wanted to reclaim your honor?”

  Krez was caught off guard by her outburst and found himself nodding stupidly.

  “Then start fighting man, the other dogo still looks as good as new! Kick his ass so we can go back and finally do our job. We still have a ton of armor plates to collect.”

  “I…” Krez momentarily was at a loss for words and looked back and forth between the human and the other Zulbano, “I’m not strong enough for that, but do not interfere. I want to end this fight myself. Please, I need to do this.”

  “Not strong enough? Damn, then use that furry head of yours. What do you want? Dying in an honorable fight or defeating your foe in a proper battle?”

  Before Krez could object, Fast Claw was done listening and interjected, “Are you done yet? She is at least right that we should bring this to an end now.”

  Without another word, the Zulbano charged towards him. During the short distraction Fast Claw had moved away from the human’s position, probably afraid that she would intervene. Krez feared the same, but he decided to trust her and concentrated wholly on the approaching enemy.

  ‘Use your head…’ he cursed in his mind, ‘Easier said then done.’

  Well, he had mostly searched the head-on confrontation with little finesse so far.

  ‘Do I just wanna die? Follow my pack and finally leave this cursed world?’

  His mind raced with distracting thoughts as he backed up into the forest. Images and emotions from the time with his clan flashed in his mind. The pride when his parents wished him good luck before his rite. The exhilaration he felt when facing off the Notobruk. The pain after losing the battle. The shame he felt when he realized that he would survive his failed hunt.

  ‘That I failed my rite is my fault alone. A sign of my weakness.’ Krez cursed himself as he blocked one blow after another.

  ‘But the second chance the Alpha gave me… that has never been a real fight. The Cetro were well equipped and numerous while the clan sent me off without even hardening my claws or handing me the hunter’s shields.’ He shook his head in frustration when he admitted to himself that he had been set up for another failure.

  He missed to block a strike and Fast Claw managed to slash across his back, the enhanced claws actually ripping his armored suit apart. Pain burned through his body.

  ‘This also isn’t fair.’ He acknowledged and anger rose in him when he finally realized what he really wanted.

  “I just wanted to have a fair chance.” He coughed and blood dripped out of his muzzle, “This… this is not how I want to die!”

  “Too bad, nameless whelp, because the world isn’t fair. I’ve promised you an honorable fight, not a fair one.” Fast Claw growled and ripped through the armor on his leg, drawing more blood.

  ‘So, honorable doesn’t mean fair, does it? Maybe the human female… Alena is right and it is time to tip the scale.’ Krez thought and quickly checked his pockets. When he found what he was looking for, he focused back on the rapid claw strikes from his opponent.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He blocked a few more attacks before he saw an opening. Not hesitating, he surprised Fast Claw by leaning into the strike instead of dodging. Krez clenched his teeth as pain flared up when the claw directly pierced through his stomach. Still, he didn’t freeze up and instead grabbed the wrist with one hand to hold it in place while he used his other hand to press the button on the small remote control he had snatched from Alena back in the truck.

  Immediately Krezolgok was drowned in a world of pain as the modified suppression shackles sent eclectic charges through his body, threatening to overwhelm him. However, not only he was suffering from their effects and Fast Claw was hit just as hard - the only difference being that Krez knew what would happen and had prepared his mind.

  After the electric assault from the shackles stopped, Krezolgok used the short window while the other Zulbano was still dazed and bit into his throat. Keeping a tight grip with his maw, Krez reached out with both hands and grabbed his foe’s head. Summoning every bit of strength he could muster, he yanked the head around.

  A loud crack echoed through the otherwise silent forest and when Krez finally let go, Fast Claw’s dead body slumped to the ground.

  “I did it…!” Krez muttered and then also fell down, darkness swallowing his mind. Before his consciousness completely faded away, he heard the voice of his human companion next to him.

  “Yes, you did it. Good fight, Nameless Warrior of the Zulbano.”

  ***

  Jorman Fel Durro was tired, so damn tired. He tried to hide it and look strong in front of his people. They needed the unwavering resolve he was famous for, they needed the steadfast commander who would lead his people out of the biggest crises they had ever faced. But every day it became harder and harder for Jorman to put up a front. He had heavy bags under his eyes, his once bright blue hair had turned dark and he lost way too much weight.

  The Drel were under attack.

  That alone was a unique and astounding experience for most as it has been ages since there was any fighting – and that had been an internal strive, not an attack from the outside. How could there be war?

  Who would be so daring as to challenge the race that was known to have specialized in crafting war machines and weapons?

  Who would be so delusional to think they had a chance against one of the oldest and most advanced races of the known universe?

  Who would dare to attack the Drel?

  Well, apparently the damned machines of the Starborn. Or, to be more precise, a damned machine of the Starborn. ‘A’ as in ‘one’, singular.

  Over the course of not even two years, a time that could pass by just for moving troops from one system to another, the Drel had lost dozens of outposts and even a few planets in the outer rim of their territory. The death count was in the millions already, and while the majority of the Drel’s population was still safe and sound within the central systems, they lost so many research facilities and bright heads that the Drel’s technological advancement had been thoroughly stopped and even thrown back for decades to come.

  Now they had come to a crossroad in this war, if Jorman was allowed to call it that and not single-sided beatdown. The Second, the destroyer of the Endless Empire and reason for the Starborn’s hasty escape from the known universe, was on the move. During the last two years he had circled around the Drel’s central systems, heading from one outpost in the outer rim to the next, leaving only a trail of death and destruction in his wake. With his high mobility he was always a step ahead of their troops, and, if Jorman had to be honest, it was questionable if they could have changed anything even if their troops would have been able to catch up. The Second and his ship were just too strong to leave much more than a scratch, even with the Drel’s advanced weapons

  Jorman sighed and shook his head as he remembered the report he got from one of the outpost commanders a few months ago. The man had practically been yelling in excitement when he recorded the message. He had predicted that his outpost was in the path of the Second and adjusted their long-range scanners for early detection. He prepared special ammunition for the Starborn-ship and the moment the ship dropped out of superluminal travel he was ready and hit it with everything they had.

  In his hastily recorded aftermath-report he showed visuals of the enemy’s ship after the attack and highlighted three areas where they had managed to leave marks on the hull. It wasn’t much more than scratches but the officer was celebrating it as a big achievement.

  He died minutes after sending his report, together with everyone else in the outpost.

  Shaking his head, Jorman looked at his fellow Drel sitting around the big table and watching him expectantly.

  Right, the war approached a crossroad and it was on them to decide what to do next. After circling their central systems, the Second now entered a dead region without any colonized systems for months to come. The Drel’s strategy team assumed that there were only two reasonable routes the Second could follow.

  One would take him away from Drel territory and the other would lead him deep into the heart of their home.

  It was on Jorman and his trusted aides to decide what they would do. Hope that the damn robot was done with the Drel and began his hunt for the First or was it time to evacuate the central systems?

  ‘It’s just a matter of pride, isn’t it?’ He thought. If they initiated the evacuation they would acknowledge that this ‘war’ was more than they could chew and that it was slowly swallowing his people, killing them city after city, planet after planet. But it could buy them enough time to develop new weapons to face the Starborn’s ship, at least enough data had already been collected.

  If it turned out that the Second instead started to hunt down his progenitor, all that they would have lost was pride.

  However, if they didn’t prepare and the robot continued to attack them, they would lose precious time that was needed to find means to fight back. Time they would pay with blood.

  “I hate politics…” Jorman muttered, loud enough for the others in the room to hear. Some of them chuckled.

  “There is only one proper way to react.” he said after finally making up his mind, “Our job is to ensure the survival of our race. We need to do anything possible to buy us more time to even have a chance to defend some day in the future. I don’t care about the political implications or the feelings of the higher ups. I’m not willing to pay for pride with the blood of our people.”

  He saw many relieved faces at the table, apparently his aides had the same mindset. Nodding in appreciation, Jorman opened a starmap of their territory. There were dozens of planets and systems, eight of which were now highlighted.

  “Give out orders to the planetary leaders of these eight planets. Begin to evacuate the civilian population and direct all military capabilities to prepare for the arrival of–”

  He was interrupted as the door to the meeting room suddenly flew open with a bang. A young woman in a military uniform stormed in, heavily panting. After catching her breath for a brief moment, she looked around into the twenty faces that stared at her in confusion and amusement.

  “I…” she stammered after realizing where she was, “I honestly thought there was one more corridor before this room. I’m so sorry!”

  “It has to be rather important if you are in such a hurry, so please begin your report Cadet.” Jorman said, not disturbed by her abrupt entry at all.

  “Ah, yes, Sir!” she nodded, “We got word from the long-range observation team that is stationed in The Void. They found traces of the Second close to the station. Though, the space station itself hasn’t been attacked or destroyed.”

  “Impossible!” someone shouted in disbelief while the others whispered among each other.

  “I don’t know,” Jorman said, stroking his beard absentmindedly, “They were one of the first teams to get the upgraded scanners and should be able to pierce any stealth modules from the Starborn.”

  “But it has been only weeks since the last contact with the Second in the border systems. How could he arrive at The Void so fast?”

  “Do not underestimate the technological achievements of the Starborn.” Jorman shook his head and let out a long, relieving breath, “More importantly, with this update we can more or less confirm that the Second has returned to his hunt of the First. I think we should be off the hook for now.”

  The people around the table perked up at that and quickly broke out in cheers after the realization settled in.

  “Cadet,” Jorman addressed the stressed woman, “This meeting is over and we will reestablish communication in this room. Please make sure to get me the scout-leader on the line. I want to have a talk with him, we need more confirmation of the Second’s movements.”

  “Yes, Sir!” She said and turned to leave.

  “Ah, and also send a message to our team in the Mereus Cluster, time is running out. They shall hurry up!”

  “Yes, Sir. Will be done!” She said and hurried out of the room.

  While his colleagues were still celebrating, Jorman let his mind wander.

  The Void was an empty region between galaxies. It was far outside of the Drel’s territory, not even half way towards the next cluster of galaxies which was known as Civilized Territories, the home of the young races of the United Alliance of Stars.

  What made this place so special was the small space station the Drel had anchored there. It was the closest place with direct access to the UAS Network.

  ‘If the Second has infiltrated the station and even bothered to hide his presence, it can only mean that he finally starts to hunt the First for real.’ Jorman mused as he sat down in his chair, ‘I can only hope that the young races are better prepared for his fury than we have been.’